Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 54 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION drunk. He looked over his shoulder at the other oc- cupants of the wardroom. “Take it easy, Charley—you know how touchy some of these boys can be!” he said, urgently. The android rose from his chair. His broad, six foot form towered over the table. He looked at the liaison officer. “With your permission—I shall go now, Mayo Officer.” The deep voice issued from between rigid lips. “Stick around, Jimmy,” Mayo said. “‘Admans here won't bite you.” ~ He laughed—too loudly. “Let him go, Mayo!”’ said Admans, softly. “Can’t you see he knows that he shouldn’t be in here?” The android still hesitated, awaiting instructions. “O.K., Jimmy —do what the doctor says,” Mayo said. The Granella turned to leave, and for a moment his pale, pink albino eyes met those of the medic. Admans searched in vain for some interpretation of their ex- pression. The two men watched the 10 android leave the room in silence. The aura of tension that hung over the group of drinkers round the bar seemed to lift slightly. Admans turned to his com- panion. “‘What are you trying to prove, Charley?” One corner of Mayo’s thin mouth dropped. “Don’t talk to me that way, Mark. I love you like a brother, but just tone it down. I’m not trying to prove a thing... 1 know.” He waved his arm in the direction of the bar. “But these . . . passengers. Where do they get this master race complex from, anyway? Do they ever stop to consider what would happen if the androids suddenly decided that they were the master race?” ““And does it ever occur to you that maybe they lie awake at nights, scaring them- selves stupid over just that possibility? Forget it, Charley.’ Admans sipped his drink slowly. ““You’ve got a chip on your shoulder about this thing—you always did have, and it’s getting bigger. Can’t you see it’s no use comiclbooks.conn