Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 66 — page 138: what you’re looking at

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

THE CREEP “‘And your nerve’s gone,” added Sam. The old man didn’t deny it. He tried to back away again. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Try somebody else.” “Youre the' only ‘one,” pleaded Lena. “Can’t you make him understand, Sam ?”’ “With my boot I would if he wasn’t so old. He’s a lush. Been hitting the bottle for years—hey! Maybe that’ll work.” SAm took hold of the stained lapels of the doctor’s coat. He growled: “Listen, Sullevan. How would you like it if I came inside and smashed every bottle in the place? You wouldn’t want me to do that, would you? Well, that’s ex- actly what I’m going to do unless you get your things and come with us right away.” He pushed Sullevan from him with an emphatic gesture. “I’m waiting,’ he added grimly. The old man’s eyes found Lena’s again, but in spite of her sympathy, she returned his stare coldly and ignored the pleading in it. He looked 137 as if he might start crying. _ He held his hands in front of his face and his slack cheeks twitched in synchro- nisation with the trembling of his fingers. He put his hands behind his back. “Bring him here,” he said, in a voice brittle with fragile decision. “‘Bring him here and I’ll do what I can.” “And find the door barri- caded in our faces?’ asked Sam. “We’re not leaving here without you.” Sullevan squared his narrow shoulders. “I’ve given my word,” he said. His voice had a pathetic dignity. “The facili- ties here are not much, but they are better than the floor of a bar-room. You fetch the alien and I’ll be ready.” When the surgery door was opened to them a second time, it seemed to Sam and Lena that Sullevan’s place had been taken by a stranger. He had discarded his coat and had changed into a reasonably clean shirt. His face and hands were scrubbed and his hair had been regimented into comicloooks.com