Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 67 — page 104: what you’re looking at

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

TAILOR MADE contourlesschest. “Apparently I don’t meet local require- ments.” “Unfortunately, no, but to make you attractive all we have to do is to adapt you to meet the standards of any one of a number of planets. There, instead of being an outcast, you will be the epitome of female beauty.” He gestured with his soft, well-kept hands. “‘I need hardly stress the inevitable result.” “The queen of the planet,” Sarah breathed, and her sallow cheeks burned as she thought about it. “I’ll be able to pick any man I choose.” “Exactly. Now you can understand why the Bureau, using the benefits of modern science, is so_ successful.” Abruptly, Fenshaw became businesslike. “‘Now let me see. You’re thin. Procyon IV likes them slender. But they also like long, thick _ hair, slanting eyes and... .” Re- gretfully he shook his head. ““No. Procyon IV is out. The surgery would be too extensive and expensive, and the basic material unsuitable.” He lifted a heavy file onto the desk and began to riffle through the cards it contained while mut- tering to himself. “This ... poor hair... poor teeth ...no figure... skin . . .”” He pursed his lips. “I’m afraid that we'll have to make a few adaptions, Miss Good. Have you any. ob- jections ?” “‘Permanent adaptions?” “Of course, but fortunately they need only be minor.” He rifled the cards again. “We can remove your hair and...” “Remove it?” Sarah touched the scanty locks over which she had taken so much trouble. ““Make me bald?” “Yes. A follicle-killing in- jection will do the trick almost without pain and the cost is low. Hairless women are in high esteem on Deneb III. The local women have to use shards of obsidian to shave themselves, or rather they did until the trading posts began selling them razors, so you will have a tremendous advantage in that fact alone.” He _ hesitated. “There are one or two further adaptions. . .” ““Haven’t you a planet where I'll be attractive without all this?” Somehow, the thought of going through life as hairless as an egg didn’t appeal to Sarah. Fenshaw looked regretful. “I’m afraid not. It’s a question of divergent cultures, you 103 comiclooks.conm