Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 72 — page 61: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION “T talked to Latham this morning.” Paul’s smug voice. “The council’s going to close the show soon.” Lisa’s startled gasp. “‘But it’s a wonderful show. Midge says si “Midge is old hat. Latham wanted him to change the script. He refused. The public wants action, sweetheart, not this watered mush we’re giving them. I want you to divorce Midge.” “Paul!” “You don’t love him, you never did. Look, baby, Midge belongs in the past with the dinosaur and the opera and video. He can’t adapt. Yester- day I got an offer to entertain at one of the best hate bars in town. Five hundred credits a week! We’ll make it a team act. You and me.” Faintly: ‘“Hate bars will be banned soon.” _ His laughter was ugly. “‘Not until Midge can give the public something better, and he doesn’t know how.”’ “Vil have to think about it,’ she said. : I don’t know how long I stood there after their voices died away. Iremember moving 60 about the stage numbly, look- ing at the cages, the still trapeze, the empty clown ring. I felt dead, all dead inside. In one of the cages something moved. It was the Zarl. We import Zarls from Cal- listo, especially for our show. Imagine an ecology gone mad, a complete anarchy of flora against fauna with one murderously dominant species, and you have the Zarl. This one rattled the cage bars, staring at me. “How much longer?’ it asked. Zarls are telepathic. “Perhaps six hours. Eat your meat.” “Tt is drugged. It will dull my reflexes so that you can kill me.” “At least you have a chance,”’ I pointed out. “*Re- fuse to eat and you'll starve.” Zarls have a horror of starving. Its claws scraped restlessly. “I hate you,” the Zarl said. “You hate everybody.” “You most of all. You planned this. Each night a Zarl dies.”’ It sniffed hopelessly at the meat. I stared at the Zarl. Slowly the thought took form. comicloooks.com