Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 54 — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

MAN IN A MAZE but it was clear now that it was. The careful experimenter took over for a moment. He dialed the number again. “Hello, who’s that?’’ par- roted his own voice. He pushed the rest down, thought a moment, then dialed Parkside 2195. “Is that Mr. Sweet’s agent?” his own voice asked of him. He almost ran out of the house. He went to a bar and had a couple of double Scotches, neat. Then he used the bar ’phone to fix the appointment with Bleiker for four o’clock that afternoon. He walked the streets for hours until four. “Well, Mr. Tyler,’ said Bleiker, on his entry to the consulting room, “what seems to be the trouble with you? Please sit down.”’ “Could be a brain tumour,” said Tyler, sitting. “What makes you think so?” “Auditory and visual illusions.” “Let’s start with the audi- tory illusions. What form do they take?’ “ft sometimes hear rumb- > 58 lings like a distant thunder- storm, when there is no storm. I have heard—a voice.’” Bleiker stroked his nose thoughtfully. “‘The rumbling noises area common delusion with brain tumours,” he said. “The voice—not so common. What about the visual side of it?” Tyler told him, in detail. Bleiker had narrow grey eyes, but long before Tyler had finished they were as round as hoops. “Amazing!” he exclaimed. ““Never heard anything like it in my life, outside of delirium tremens cases. But I can see you're not an alcoholic. » Auditory, visual, and tactile illusions. Smacks of opium.” ““T assure you-———”’ began Tyler. “Okay, Mr. Tyler, that’s not my business. I’m _ con- cerned only with the physical condition of your brain. Do you have bad headaches?” “Occasionally.” “Lately ?” **No.”’ “Any physical sickness— retching ?”’ “A couple of times, recently.” comiclooks.conrn