Some dames are bright. Some brighter. Like the
gorgeous wife of the playboy Commish who combined
all the stellar attributes necessary to slice in
two parts an ultra modern spaceship, and a
marriage, with one swoop of a clockhand.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories November 1952.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
As the frilly-bloused rockette bent over him to unbuckle hissafticorsette, newly appointed Commissioner-For-Economics-For-MarsJ. Edwin Elbert peeked. But her fingernails tatted so hastily at thebuckle that he raised his surprisingly youthful blue eyes to her face.She was blushing there too. A pretty little baby face.
Skillfully he swallowed a rising belch that was a natural consequenceof the cessation of gravity upon a paunch overbloated with farewellchampagne, Venus-dipped cold crab and too sweet apricot bread.
"Director Hugens is to be congratulated upon his choice of rockettes,"he rumbled, sneaking his fat, glossily manicured fingers about herwrist. The click of the powder-room door would warn him of his wife'sreturn. "Just the other day I was telling him that the new Bolo IIshould have only the best. I see he has exceeded even my most hopefulexpectations."
She giggled nervously.
"Tell me my dear, when does the Bolo go into Hugens' celebratedcentrigrav? This weightlessness is rather unsettling to one's stomach."
"Can I get you a demamine pill, sir?"
"No, thank you. When does—"
"Oh! At 1900 hours," she gushed.
"The ship splits in half," she added helpfully, and dimpled in thatwinning way of little girls who will never grow up.
"Remarkable. They tell me some sort of cable will tie us together."
"Yes sir, when we are far enough out in space so there isn't any airfriction, Mr. Webley, the pilot, pulls a little lever and the noseflies off. He'll be all alone out there for forty-two days."
"And only a thin cable connects our passenger section to his controlsection?" He was quite familiar with the details since he had lobbiedfor the initial appropriation. Her forearm had a nice warm smoothfeeling.
"Oh, you understand it perfectly, sir. When we're a mile apart a littlerocket in the side makes us spin round and round. Then I can take offthese old iron shoes." She followed his gaze to her legs and tittered.
He speculated that similar magnets must be holding down the hem of hernylon skirt.
"And does this spinning about a common axis continue until we nearMars?"
"Yes sir, for forty-two days. Excuse me sir, I think null gravity ismaking that lady ill."
After carefully wiping his palm on his coatsleeve he replaced his unlitcigar in his broad, gleaming face. He was in the smiling sensuality ofa daydream when the powder-room door clicked.
His wife was beautiful.
Uptilting his cigar he watched her drift down the aisle. With onescarlet-tipped finger she prevented her diaphanous skirt from floatingvery high above her knees. A lovely lady. He champed on the cigar. It'snot every man whose wife is a natural blonde ex-starlet young enough tobe his daughter.
But a little discipline was in order.
"Landa, I wish you had remembered to have Hykato pack my golf things."
"Edwin please, this null gravity is upsetting my tummy."
"Well, it's the least you could have done."
"And how would we have gotten it on the ship?" her voice shrilledunexpectedly. "You embarrassed me enough as it was."
"Listen, I'm the Commissioner. No two-bit pilot is going to tell mewhat I can't take. The luggage limit is ridiculou