The Brides of Ool

By M. A. CUMMINGS
The Goddess of Love had never showered Ool with her favors. He was the saddest lover this side of Io ... either that, or the most skillful lady killer since the invention of Gilk's death-ray.
As the soft tones of the morning gong sounded through the cabin Ool yawned and stretched. Then he grinned, remembering. This was the first morning of his honeymoon. Of course, honeymoons were even more out-of-date than marriage services. But Loris had wanted both and Ool was willing to let her have her way.
Funny to think that after all this time Loris was really his. His hand caressed the form lying beside him, the flesh smooth and cold as marble.
Cold! He sat up suddenly, staring at the girl. The pearly lustre of her skin had faded to a chalky white, and he could see no sign of breathing. Frantically he felt for a heartbeat. There was none. Loris—his beautiful Loris, was dead.
As the lights glowed on the board, the young Watcher forgot discipline, even forgot the inter-office video. Stumbling into the captain's office, he shouted,
It's Commander Ool. He's requesting permission to land— he gulped, came to attention, sir.
The captain was equally startled. But years of training helped him to keep control.
Wonder where he's been all this time. No report from him in weeks. Permission granted. And tell him to report up here at once. The Old Men will want to hear about this. I wouldn't want to be in his boots.
If I'd been gone this long I wouldn't have bothered to come back, the Watcher said.
They'd have found him sooner or later. He couldn't stay up forever, the captain said. Better get those signals out. And the young Watcher went back to his post, shaking his head over anyone foolish enough to anger the Old Men, while the captain put through a call to Committee headquarters.
Between the frequent tests and long periods of questioning, Ool was also wondering where he had been. Two weeks gone out of his life without the slightest glimmer of a memory about them. Two weeks of floating in space. Had Loris been dead all the time? Or had she died while he lay unconscious? Had he—could he have killed her without knowing it?