She made a spluttering noise and went downstairs.
I made a quick survey for a possible safe touchdown area just in case Helene inadvertently cut the power too fast; chances were good that we'd hit one of the several sofas.
Gladys and I were celestially north of the chitchat bench when Helene completely killed the null-grav. The bench, with visio, suffered complete collapse; it wasn't meant for sitting down on from twelve feet up. Especially with a blonde dropping immediately into one's lap. Lucky for me both were nicely padded.
"I'm sorry, Bill," Gladys said, September Morn-ing, and hurrying, dishevelled and forlorn, out the front door. I heard her car start up as Helene came up from the basement.
I ruefully surveyed the shattered visio amid the other debris.
"Null-grav," I said. "Real null-grav. Jim's got to know—but the visio's ruined. I've got to go out and call him."
"Oh, no, you don't!" Helene burst. "Null-grav and Jim O'Brien can wait until tomorrow!"
She kissed me tenderly then.
"How right you are," I said, getting re-oriented fast.