Pulp Fiction, 1954 · page 89 of 146
Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 51 — page 89: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1954. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION ferently. The medical men to whom he had been sent had put it in other ways. But, underneath their words, and reassurances, and encourage- ments, he had sensed, perhaps unjustly, a feeling of scientific curiosity, and he had shrunk from this. If they, being what they were, had permitted him to feel that, what would the man in the street do to him? The newspapers, certainly, would never hesitate to crucify him. It was inevitable that the idea of suicide should occur. Live with himself, as he was, even where he was, that he could do. If this went no further. But the specialists were adamant that this which had begun in him would increase. It did not require much imagination to visualise his neighbours’, faces when this condition became ob- vious. There was only one thing to do. He had to get away. He began to gather his financial resources, and found them lean, as was to be expec- ted at his age. Against that, he was healthy. For the moment, at any rate. He must not lose 88 this moment. He must act now. The problem lay in knowing how to act. An announcement set him thinking. WAR DISPOSAL BOARD OFFER Fifty superseded Mark 8 Propulsions. Can be converted for haulage. Was this the answer, space? Eventually he had come to believe that it was, and had gambled on this belief. “Made a hole in your account,” the bank manager had commented. “But it could be a good risk, Mr. Leslie. Those ships are worth more in scrap than you paid. It’s our policy to encourage sound enterprise. Don’t hesitate to see me if you find that things are a little tight.” “‘Thank you,” he answered gratefully. The kindness of the manager warmed him, although it was misplaced. He was not going hauling, although he must act as though he were. How much had he left? Enough, he found, for his purpose. Enough to convert comicloooks.com