THE LUMINOUS BLONDE
By HAYDEN HOWARD
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 his safticorsette, newly appointed Commissioner-For-Economics-For-Mars J. Edwin Elbert peeked. But her fingernails tatted so hastily at the buckle 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 consequence of the cessation of gravity upon a paunch overbloated with farewell champagne, 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 her wrist. The click of the powder-room door would warn him of his wife's return. "Just the other day I was telling him that the new Bolo II should have only the best. I see he has exceeded even my most hopeful expectations."
She giggled nervously.
"Tell me my dear, when does the Bolo go into Hugens' celebrated centrigrav? This weightlessness is rather unsettling to one's stomach."