Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 51 — page 32: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

f THE ENVIED “I shall be in the Training Wing.” ‘“T'll call for you there.” He felt that he ought to take her hand—her cold, artificial hand with its in- human flexible fingers and its inhuman strength—and _ tell her to take care of herself, or something sentimental and human like that; but it was silly, and so he said nothing. When he turned back for a second at the door of the ward, she—it—was not even looking in his direction. Saturday was a bright day. Weather Control had been able to stabilise a depression, and the tentative promises of a sunny day were to be ful- filled. When Warren met Deborah near the uptown monorail terminus, she was wearing a fresh, sparkling summer dress that lay with crisp attractiveness against the sun-warmed smoothness of her skin. _ He caught his breath. She was far too attractive. She was the sort of young woman 31 who took your mind off social and political problems: and such women are dangerous. Deborah smiled at him, her eyes puckering enticingly. “ Something wrong?” "Not at all,” he said. Oddly enough, he was con- scious of a lightening of his spirits. This, after all, was Saturday, and he could be excused for taking time off from his problems. There was nothing to be done until he had seen Judith again to- morrow. He said: “ Where shall we go?” “Anywhere you like.” He said what he had never meant to say: “Stellar Park?” She laughed. “I’d be glad to. I think we need some- where frivolous.” On the train he was acutely aware of her shoulder against his. He wondered guiltily whether he was being disloyal to Judith. But this had nothing to do with that psychic entente between him- self and Judith. This was a day’s forgetfulness, a way of comicloooks.conm