Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 54 — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

THE LESSER BREED control panel, across which the blaster bolt had torn a gash of fused metal. He looked round quickly—the Granellas had not moved. “Poor shooting; major,” jeered Mayo. “Perhaps you’d like to have a try, Mark? Don’t worry about the an- droids; they’re conditioned to respect human’ beings— don’t ask me why.”’ Admans struggled to his feet and offered a helping hand to Tutin. “You fool, Admans. What are you trying to do? Ill have you broken for this!” “‘Perhaps,’”’ Admans said. He offered the blaster to Tutin, butt foremost. “‘Here— take back your brains—sol- dier. But before you do any- thing else stupid, think on this for a minute. The androids are conditioned to obey Mayo —we don’t know for certain whether we could handle them without him. If you killed him, you would automatically forfeit all control of the ship.” Tutin took the weapon and held it loosely by his side. ““You may be right,” he said, 25 grudgingly. ““What do you suggest ?”’ ““We should take Mayo back into the inner shell,’’ Admans said. “‘He can do no further damage if he is placed under close arrest.”’ Mayo walked towards them. Tutin began to raise the blaster, but the movement held less direct menace. “Point one to cool logic, Mark,” said Mayo. “Maybe I’ll‘stick around for a while, after all. It will be interesting to see how the master mind here runs the show.” “All right, Mayo,” said Tutin. ““You’ve got your re- prieve, but only for so long as you're useful to the project, remember that.”’ The three armoured men walked out of the engine room. The androids turned back to their tasks, already repairing the damaged control panel. Mayo lay quietly on a bunk in the locked cabin. His mouth was dry and the small aches of his body underlined the need of his system for its accustomed alcohol. As always, when he was comiclooks.conn