Pulp Fiction, 1956 · page 107 of 162
Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 67 — page 107: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1956. 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.
AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION caution,” he said smoothly. “Think nothing of it. Well?’ The prospect was tempting, the pen was very close, and suddenly she was very, very tired of being an unattractive old maid. She signed. The first injections robbed her of all hair. All of it, even her eyelashes and eyebrows, so that she looked and felt like a freshly peeled egg. The tattoo, even with multiple needles and local anesthetics, wasn’t pleasant and, after the swelling had died down, she was resplendent in a brilliant shade of purple. The dentures took a little getting used to; the pointed teeth had a habit of catching on her lip. The body odour . . . well, she supposed that she could get used to that, too. Finally, after a month in the private hospital of the Bureau, she was all ready for the great adventure. *“Now don’t worry about a thing,” said Fenshaw, who had come to see her off. ‘“‘Always remember that, no matter how you think you 106 look or feel, beauty is solely in the eye of the beholder.” He steered her towards the portal of the Demat trans- mitter. “The trading post has been informed of your coming and the agent will be there to greet you. He’s a native, of course, and, though I shouldn’t say it, is considered to be one of the handsomest men on the planet.’ He gave her a roguish wink, then shook her hand. “‘Good luck, Miss Good, and don’t forget to recommendustoyourfriends.” Sarah nodded and stepped into the portal. There was a moment of strain, a subtle twisting, and then she stepped out into the bright sunlight of Deneb III. And stopped. A thing stood looking at her. It was four feet tall and three wide. It was deep purple, as hairy as a brush, and with an odour capable of making rotten eggs smell like Chanel No. 5. It opened its mouth to reveal pointed teeth and rolled forward on splayed feet. There was no mistaking the admiration in its eyes. comichooks.connl