Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 54 — page 121: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FIGTION ean think at all. Does it know what has happened to it? Can it feel? Can it understand what is going on around it? Tell me, Carter, how far can conditioning go?” “Pretty far. Surgery has divorced its emotions and personality, and we can only guess at the techniques of the enemy. Perhaps they left it aware so that they could enjoy its mental suffering. Or perhaps, not knowing emo- tion themselves, they just didn’t think to eradicate it.” He sighed. “‘A pity that it’s insane. I should have liked to question it.” *““Couldn’t we restore its sanity?” “How? The shock and mental conflict must have been so great that the mind es- caped from what it was into madness. If we could bring it back—and that is assuming _that the brain is relatively -undamaged—then, as soon as it realised what had happened to it, it would go insane again. A vicious circle.” The operative word was vicious. The water was tepid, the sponge an oozing mass, the soap slimy with long immer- sion. As Longstrom had feared, Harding had put him in full 128 charge of the computing equipment, and that meant checking the L-C pump, the nutrient solutions, the tem- perature, ion charge, connec- tions and feed-in circuits. It also.meant washing the thing’s face. He didn’t like doing it, but it had to be done. He hated running the sponge over the naked scalp, rubbing it in the ears, gently around the flicker- ing eyes, wiping the drooling spittle from the working lips and cleaning up the mess . from beneath the slobbering mouth. Drying the thing was even worse, and each time he did it, the nausea and revul- sion grew worse. Revulsion which began to crystalise into a desperate hatred of the man who made him do it. And there could be no escape. They had replenished their stores from a transport, con- tacting at a rendezvous in space, and the ship was loaded to capacity with tor- pedoes and fuel, power and supplies. Now they were on the hunt, driving deep into enemy controlled space, wait- ing and watching for the tell- tales to flash and the Head to take over and blast his late captors to dust—they hoped. Longstrom wasn’t so sure. conmicloooks.comn