Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 67 — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

THE EARTH edge to Chambers’ voice as he spoke from the doorway. “You and your drivel about your work. What are you, a machine? Haven’t you any human blood in your veins, any longing to get back home and see normal people again ?” ' “That’s right, boy. You tell him,” said Wilson. This was the sort of situation he enjoyed. Another good reason why he should be first on the Leave Roster. Malcolm closed his book firmly. Without a glance at Chambers he walked out of the -room in his slow, dig- nified manner. “Come and have some coffee, Chambers,” said Wil- son. ““Maybe you’d like to give me a few addresses? I could help your girl friend get ready to welcome you in six months time, eh?” I gave Wilson a warning look, which he ignored. I knew that Chambers was not at all sure whether or not he still had a girl friend. Cham- bers walked over and sat between us. He accepted the cup of coffee with a nod and sat staring into it. “Three years’ back pay!” continued Wilson. ‘“That’s more money than I’d ever hoped to save in a lifetime. NEVER SETS Do you know what I’m going to do?” He began to go into.details. I got up. I was feeling a little sick. If the fat ox wanted to goad Chambers until the poor devil slit his throat it was no business of mine. The air in the main corridor seemed fresher. The door of Base H.Q. opened as I was walking past. ““Ah, Samuels! Just the chap I was looking for. The colonel would like a word with you,” said Boon, the geolo- gist, a busy little field mouse of a man, with a pale twitch- ing moustache. | The Old Man could have called me anywhere, inside or out of the Base, on the intercom system, but Boon was like that, the helpful type. “Thanks,” I said curtly, and walked through the open door. After three years cooped up together even the slightest gesture that would normally go unnoticed begins to grow on you, until in your less controlled moments your mind would find in it a perfectly valid reason for strangling the offender. “Good man, Samuels.” The Old Man: had the sort of voice that always made me 111 comiclooks.com