Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 52 — page 59: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION didn’t answer the contact ship.” “7 think it does.’ The doc- tor gestured towards the fruit- laden bushes and the nut- heavy trees. “Look at it. Food for the mere effort of reaching out for it. A climate which makes the wearing of clothes a ludicrous anachronism. No hostile animals. No harsh seasons. No necessity even to build houses. What would you call it?” ‘‘Paradise.”’ “Yes. Here men can walk without fear. Here, for the first time in their lives, they could experience freedom, true freedom, not the conditionary meanings usually given to the word. They would have an entire planet to wander in and there could be no wars, no enemies, no dislikes. If a man offended you, then you could walk away from him. There would be no need ever to see another human face unless you so wished. Freedom, Gerald. Pure, perfect freedom, and once experienced do you think that anyone would ever 58 relinquish it of his own free will?” “Anarchism,” said the ecologist, slowly. “Decadence. A returning to the primitive and a falling into savagery.” “What makes you think that ?”’ “What else could it be? We're civilised only because we work at it. Men are basically animals, Hermitage, you know that. Take away their barriers and down they go.” “Down?” The doctor shrugged. “Or up? Is it bad to wander the fields and feel the warm sun and the soft air against your naked skin? Is it bad to feast in convivial company, get drunk, even, sing songs and rid yourself of the pressing urgency to be up and doing? And doing what? Making money? Why, when you could have everything for the effort of taking it? For all a man really needs is food and shelter; supply those and then he can give full rein to his creative instincts. No, Gerald, they wouldn’t have comiclooks.cormn