December, 1945
Beggars In Velvet by Lewis Padgett
Trouble Times two by George O. Smith

Short Story
Orders by Malcolm Jameson

The Mule by Isaac Asimov (Conclusion)

Atomic Power Plant  (Excerpt from The Smyth Report)

Readers' Departments
The Editor's Page  (Atoms Won't Do Everything)
In Times To Come ("The Fairy Chessmen" by Lewis Padgett)
The Analytical Laboratory (for July, August & September)
Brass Tacks (including a letter from Theodore Sturgeon)

In four novelettes - The Piper´s Son, Beggars in Velvet, The Lion and the Unicorn & "Three Blind Mice" - Henry Kuttner, writing as Lewis Padgett, explored the struggle within and without the community of "Baldies", mutants born after the Blow-Up with telepathic powers...The saga was later published as the book "Mutant".
                  Theodore Sturgeon
                  Apt. 5A, 151 8th Ave,
                  New York 11, N.Y.

          AUGUST SIXTH

(There is music;  it is Sibelius and  
  Bach,  it is  richness  and  exacti-     tude, a rushing bass and a wrench-
  ing treble, the bass aimed for the
  belly  and the  treble  for the tear-
  ducts . . .
There is a man  asleep.  He walks
  and moves  and builds  but he is
  asleep.  His eyes  are closed be-
  cause he is asleep.  He does not
  know how big he is because he is
  asleep. He is made of scar tissue.
There are  voices.  They are all his
  voice.    The  places   where  the
  voices  are   heard  are  all  here
  where he is.)
Magazine Store:
  Who buys this crap?
  That  kind  of  thing  is  ridiculous.
Just  to  settle  it  for  once  and for
all, where would they get the power?
(The   echo   begins.    It  whispers
  "power   power   power"   until  the
  whisper  is a  sheet,  a screen,  a
  thing   all    one   colour    getting
  brighter.   It   never  stops  again.
  It  gets  behind   the  music  and
  brings the music forward.)
  I am trying to be reasonable about
  this,  children.   I must  make you
  understand  that it  harms  you  to
  escape  into  such tripe.   Confine
  yourself  to  the  books I give you.
  You  must  not   clutter  up   your
  minds  with such  impossible non-
  Pulp   magazines   again!     Must
  you read stories
    About rockets
    About space flight
    About space warps
    About new sociologies
  Silly!   Where  would they  get the
(The echo deepens)
  . . .  to  finally  prove  the  impos-
  sibility  of the  railroad's replacing
  the canal.   How can  you expect
  the smooth  wheels  of a locomo-
  tive resting  with only the locomo-
  tive's weight  on a smooth track -
  only one  point  for  each  wheel,
  gentlemen  --  to   yield   traction
  enough  to move  a  train?    Who
  wants a means  of  transportation
  which   would   prohibit   a  man's
  using his own carriage as he now
  may use his own canal boat?
  . . . these  dreamers  who  want
  to build  flying machines heavier
  than  the air that  supports them
  have not  faced the issue.  What
  would be  the status  of shipping
  today  if  ships  depended  upon
  their  engines,  not only  to drive
  them, but to keep them afloat?
(From  somewhere,  the fingers of
  Langley,  Lilienthal,  Stephenson,
  Fulton  touch  the man's  sealed
  eyelids.  He rubs them, and rubs
  again, and finds  that scars have
  not  covered  his  eyes.   He  is
  afraid and keeps them closed)
  Who writes this crap?
Places with typewriters:
  I wrote  a story  about  decentral-
  ization,  because cities could not
  dare  exist  when  each  city had
  bombs that . . .
  I wrote  a  story  about  a meteor
  detector   that  worked   controls
  when it received  the reflection of
  a radio signal . . .
  I wrote  a story  about a  reaction
  engine . . .
  I wrote  a  story  about  a  rocket
  projectile . . .
  I  wrote  a  story  about  a  robot
  flying bomb . . .
  The   heck   with   that   stuff.    I
  druther  read   stories  about real
  life.   I  druther  read   something
  that has to do with me.
Place with a typewriter:
  I am  afraid.  I tell  you  that  deep
  down  inside  I  have  a  cold lump
  about   this  thing.     I   know  we
  must be  doing something about it
  because  although it is  old stuff to
  us have been asked not to mention
  it  in  our  stories  for  security rea-
  sons.  It  is  too big  for us.  It  can
  be good -- it can  give us power so
  cheap  it  would  be  free.    It  can
  give  us  a  four-day   work  week,
  five  hours  a  day.   It  can give us
  riches.     But   we   are   not   old
  enough  for  it  yet.    I  pray  God
  that it will be discovered and used
  before this war is finished, so that
  everyone   will  know   how  big  it
  is,   how    good,    how    horrible.
  Atomic power
(The "atomic"  finds its place in the
  echo,  in the  interstices  between
  "power  power  power"   and  gives
  a staccato tone  to  the  sheet  of
  sound.  The  man's  eyes  open a
  crack  and  now  he  sees,  but he
  sees death, because death came to
  stand  before him  when  his  eyes
  opened.   He  is  afraid   and  tries
  to  close  them  but a  whisper,  a
  transparent  whisper,   creeps  be-
  tween  his eyelids  and holds them
  On December 7, 1944,  the news-
  paper said  there was no bombing
  activity  over  Japan.   Somewhere
  else the newspaper said there was
  a   small   B-29   reconnaissance
  flight over the Japanese coast, just
  where  the  Japan  deep  is.    The
  Japanese islands  sit on  the edge
  of the Japan deep,  like houses on
  the  edge  of  a  cliff.   Somewhere
  else the newspaper said there was
  quite   an   earthquake   that   day.
  That   day   was   December   7th,
  December 7th.  Remember?
(The whisper  slips away  to the fig-
  ure of  death,  and  the  man  who
  can see  now  realizes  that death
  is  transparent   like  the  whisper,
  and through death he can see how
  big  he is.  He stretches  his body
  and  feels  how  strong  he is.  He
  opens his eyes a little more.)
  The president says  that the bomb
  that  struck  Hiroshima  on August
  6,  1945  was  atomic.   The presi-
  dent  does  not  call  it  atomic ex-
  plosive.     The  president  calls  it
  atomic power.
(The echo is greater than the music
  now;  greater  than  anything  else
  but the man now.)
Places with typewriters:
  We are  writing  stories  about the
  About  machines  that  can  think
  About interstellar flight
  About   the   psychological   fulfill-
  ment of mankind
  About mutations  caused by  hard
  radiation from atomic bombs
  About    empathy,    second-order
  space,     contra-terrene    matter,
  levitation, astral separation, telep-
  athy,  the  intuitive  mutation,  un-
  versal    syntheses,    time-travel,
  silicon  life,  and  the  evolution of
  intelligence in rats.
Street corner:
  Why do you read that crap?
(But the man  with  the  open  eyes
  does not hear that.  He is looking
  at himself,  on  the  other  side of
  death.   He knows - he learned on
  August 6,  1945,  that he alone is
  big  enough  to kill  himself,  or to
  live forever.)

That is as faithful a re-typing, including column-width and indents, as I can manage of an extraordinary kind of piece to find in a letter column - but then, Theodore Sturgeon was not your average writer, right?