Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 66 — page 137: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION ‘Sam. “Things like that are never, forgotten. And this is urgent.” He told Sullevan about the unconscious alien back in the bar; but for the moment he didn’t reveal that the injured man was alien. ‘Pick up your bag of tricks,” he ordered. “‘There’s no time to lose.” The old man was afraid. “IT can’t do it. It’s been too long. I haven’t the stuff now. No. antibiotics or sulphas. Nothing.” “T thought improvisation was a medical man’s strong point,” said Sam. ““You must have some drugs about the house.” Sullevan tried to get inside and shut the door. Sam’s foot blocked the opening and his good shoulder thrust the door wide again. “I can’t do it, I told you,” said Sullevan. ““You’re trying to trap me. You know I haven’t a licence. Go away. Leave me alone.” Lena intervened. She said: “Doctor Sullevan,”’ stressing the title. ““We’re not from the medical board or anything like that. We don’t know a thing about your past. All we want you to do is to come and help a man.” She eyed Sam and decided to use her own approach. “This man isn’t from Earth, doctor. Heaven knows howlongyou’ve ' been cooped up here like a hermit, but you must have heard about the spheres and the Creep——”’ “The Creep,” repeated Sul- levan, parrot-fashion. Lena took the old man’s filthy hands in her own. “Try to understand,” she said. “It’s important that this man doesn’t die. Very important. You must help as best you can.” Sullevan struggled in the vice of circumstances. “I can’t,” he repeated. “I wish I could, to please you, but I’m sick myself. And it’s been too long. From this gentleman’s description it sounds as if a major operation is necessary. My hands are gone. The skill’s gone.” 136 comiclooks.conm