Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 52 — page 117: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION the shining weapon they had given him, and he marched with his head up and his arms shoulder high. | One million, two hundred and seventy thousand and seven. Left, right, /Jeft, right, left, right... So many white faces and staring eyes. There was a girl looking right at him. At him! She was young and pretty, with golden hair and tears in her eyes. She ran along behind the crowd, keeping up with him. Her eyes were always on him and sometimes she waved. a white handkerchief and sometimes shecalled: “John... FORR 6" He wondered who she was. His memory was playing tricks again. He was lying ona grassy bank, running his fin- gers through her goldentresses. He was holding her in his arms, kissing her. The se- quences were all mixed up, disconnected, meaningless. There were disconcerting blanks in his head. Tramp, tramp, tramp, went the metal-shod boots on the tarmac road. Sunlight glinted on the metal weapon of the man in front, and on the instruments of the band lead- ing the way. The music stirred his blood and he was happy to be marching. 116 The girl with the golden hair kept bobbing up, looking at him, crying, waving, calling out. What was it she called? *‘John.”’ What a strange thing to call. It didn’t mean anything that he could remember. Per- haps she didn’t know his number ... one million, two hundred and seventy thousand and seven. He wished she would go away. For some reason, it upset him to see her keeping pace with him. He wondered why she was crying when he was so happy. Left, right, left, right, Jeft, Tight. ; He passed a row of hoard- ings and the letters were bold and easy to read: EARTH LOSES ANOTHER BATTLE NEW CONTINGENT FOR MARS THE WAR DRAGS ON He was a soldier going to war, to Mars. The crowd was held back by steel-wire fences, and the tarmac ended and gave way to concrete. Ahead, a bullet-shaped vessel pointed its nose at the sky and waited for him. How fine it was, shining in the sun, balanced on curved fins with a vertical ladder running up to the entrance port. He was glad he would be climbing that ladder to Mars. comicloooks.conm