Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 71 — page 61: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION That was man. On an infinity of planets he had met resistance, through force, through guile—even through beauty. And he had conquered. I drew a slow, deep breath and sat on one of the benches, staring up at the gigantic horseshoe of the factory, hearing the . muted hum of the atomics. Twenty- four hours. I tried to run through my axioms, and I was suddenly terrified. I couldn’t remem- ber them! That damned thoughtcaster. Twice in one day. Perhaps there was some gradual neural disintegration. My head hurt terribly. To- morrow I’d go to Psych for a check up. I thought about that marble villain Venusport, and about my bank account. Not enough. Another year, just one more year, andI could retire, at thirty-four. I thought about the Venusian twilights, and the turquoise mists off the Deeps, and wondered dully if I'd ever see Venus or the Earth again. I saw Fern, walking among ‘60 the conifers, her face a pale mask of strain. ““You heard it, Jake?” I nodded. We sat in the aquamarine twi- light, and Fern was shivering, and I put my arm around her. “Looks like altruism is a relative thing,’ I said. ““What do they want?’’ ‘““Uncontaminated Terms,” she said bitterly. ‘““No science, no stars, no wars and no progress. A_ big beautiful planet-mind, the Term mind, forever static, forever dead.” “It’s a bluff,” I said. “Our little fanatic’s stalling for time, hoping to stampede us while he finds another way.” “For example?” “Why do you think we insist on basic English for all Terms? Supposing a foreman should start jabbering Termi- nese during an operation. The Terms would revert, we'd have a line shutdown. They can’t adjust—say!’’ A random thought was nibbling at my brain. ““Where was Carmody this morning? Just before I reeled in?” | conmiclsoolks.conn