Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 72 — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

THE GIVE-AWAY WORLDS He pushed against one of the officers, punched the other in the mouth and was half way towards the door when the police got their stun-guns working. He fell, numb from the waist down, tried to save himself with his hands, failed and blacked out as his head hit the edge of a table. Miles poured himself an- other drink. Murbash was enjoying him- self. The steak had been as he liked it, seared on the outside and full of blood. The drinks had been good, too, good and plentiful, and after the meal he, Mark and Susan had gone on a tour of the enter- tainment centre. Susan had walked close beside him, her arm tucked through his, and Mark, even though he knew she was doing it for him, had felt jealousy. Privately, he decided that if Murbash was going to talk he had better do it fast. Murbash halted outside a tri-di and looked at the barker. The man, aware of attention, yelled his wares even more loudly than before. 29 “Step right in, folks,’ he encouraged. ““The realism will shakeyou. Arealold-fashioned auto accident just like they used to have all the time. A suicide jump from the Empire State. A double programme which will have you sweating in your seats. Roll up! Roll up! Programme just about to begin.” ‘“What’s this?” Murbash looked at Susan, but it was Mark who answered. “A thrill theatre.” He dug money from his pocket. “‘Let’s get inside.” The theatre was a small one, no more than a hundred seats surrounded by a 180 de- gree screen. From the roof countless threads of trans- parent plastic hung before the screen, giving, when the pro- jectors were operating, a total illusion of depth. A _ few couples occupied some of the seats, the girls giggling and clutching the boys. A scatter- ing of more mature people made up the rest of the audience. The doors shut, the lights dimmed, and the usual pre- liminaries commenced the comiclooks.cormn