Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 66 — page 69: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION but they were very.” “We are property.” Sam nodded. “I’ve heard of the book. Well?” “‘That was his theory. What you have just said. Fort reckoned that there might be other races watching us, per- haps even owning us. I’ve wondered .. .” interesting, ‘““Hogwash!”’ Sam said, and hoped that he was right. “How would that explain this?” He gestured around the room. “‘Are you trying to tell me that these mysterious ‘other races’ are scooping us up in the twinkling of an eye and are dumping us in this piace like .°.ike’: .." He swallowed and sat down on a heap of reeds. He knew what they were like. He had known it all along, but perspective and an al- tered viewpoint had hidden what must be the truth. He stared at the others again. Black, white, yellow. Smooth and scarred, short-haired and 68 long, big and small. A col- lection of divergent humanity. A collection. It would explain the room, the lights, the food. It would explain all the inexplicable disappearances, the senseless vanishings of staid and nor- mal people, disappearing with- out trace, without rhyme or reason. It would explain too damn much. He frowned, sitting on the heap of reeds, his mind busy with fantasy. A Mayfly was born, lived and died within a single day. To a Mayfly a day was a lifetime. To a Mayfly a man must seem to move awfully slowly. Other races, other time rates of metabolism. A day to them might be a long time, or a short time, depending on the viewpoint. A long time and men would appear to move slowly; a short time and men would seem to rush about with fantastic speed. Or perhaps the entire set-up was different. A long day and a short night. A ten-day period of light and a one-day period of darkness. comiclooks.com