ComicBooks.com Register / Loginit's free!

Pulp Fiction, 1955 · page 8 of 146

Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 56 — page 8: what you’re looking at

📖 Open the full issue in the page-flip reader →
Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 56 — page 8: Pulp Fiction, 1955

A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1955. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.

📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)

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

STRANGE SUICIDE here, since I thought you might not be in and I didn’t want to drag it about if...” The doctor didn’t wait for him to finish but crossed to his desk visor, saying as he did so: ““You can give them instructions to have it sent here immediately, express service.’ Lorens nodded and fol- lowed the doctor to the visor. AndrUz cut off all inter-office contacts and dialled the multi- servis. When the screen cleared. to show the robot operator, Lorens spoke. “J booked a travelling grip in with you. a few hours ago: I’d like it sent express service to Dr. MIkL AndrUz, at 437B, 7th Lane, Upper Level, NU Sols- bry. Carriage paid this end.” “One moment, please.” Lorens eased the collar of . ; throbbing his coveralls. was starting again. The throb- bing and thé questions and the sense of dreaming ane unreality. The visor screen blurred, then cleared to show a picture of a travelling grip. “Is this the article you require?” “lt 1s.*: “Identification, please.” Lorens picked his tags from the table and held them in front of the screen. A minute later the robot’s voice an- nounced that the grip would be sent off immediately. -AndrUz switched off the visor, his eyes. on Lorens. “They’il only take five min- utes or so to get here with it,”’ he said. ““While we’re waiting I just want to check up on your belongings again.” He turned once more to the table that contained the contents of Lorens’ pockets. I came here for a purpose, Lorens thought. But what »purpose? And why won’t he tell me what it is? Surely if I'd met him before he’d know me sufficiently well to trust his own eyes. And if not, then what sort of association is there between us_ that demands so much secretive checking? He watched the doctor for a moment or two, then asked: “Dr. AndrUz, presuming that I am the man yol™were expecting, can you tell me, please, whether we’ve met before? When you first saw me you acted as though you recognised me, yet if you COMMGEIOOKSACOI