Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 52 — page 122: what you’re looking at

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

JOHN BROWN’S BODY hunted, looking for sanctuary. He had been a fool to visit Mary, but he was young and she was lovely; he could not stay away from her. He ran faster when the searchlight caught him. The generals did not want the old and lame. They wanted the young men, strong and firm of body. Soldiers for Mars. The cream of Earth’s young men must be sacrificed to the gods of war. Beautiful bodies make fine soldiers ... He saw, too late, the barrier ahead of him. Men closed in on all sides. Trapped! He turned at bay, knowing there was no escape, a terrible frustration. “Oh, God,” he said. “‘This isn’t how life should be... Oh, Mary . .!” They held him fast while the doctor rolled up his sleeve and primed the hypodermic. He felt the prick and then he felt no more. They carried his unconscious body to the meat wagon and shipped it to the hospital. Scalpels opened up his chest. Gloved hands withdrew the limitations imposed by God. They gave him plastic lungs capable of breathing the Martian atmosphere. They removed glands that were unnecessary in the mon- 121 ster they were creating. They changed his metabolism so that he could exist on one concentrated food tablet every twenty-four hours. They peeled back the flesh to get at the brain encased in the skull. Knives probed and cut the delicate tissue, severed nerve fibres. They worked to a blue-print, isolating those parts of the brain concerned with the higher functions. When they finished, what had been a man was robot. It moved, it breathed, it obeyed orders—and it could exist on Mars. Above all, it could kill... They crossed through a name and wrote down a number. Provided a shining cylinder designed for mass murder with instructions for using it. They provided targets called Martians. And a uni- form—how can you have a soldier without a uniform? The band played. Left, right, left, right, Jeft, right. There, beyond the silent crowd and the crying girl, was therocketship. Heclimbed the ladder to Mars. “Fine,” approved the gen- erals. “This lot will last a long time—really, you doctors are wonderful. It’s a miracle you’ve performed, a miracle..” comiclbooks.conm