Amour, Amour, Dear Planet!
By MARK CLUTTER
A new and sinless world the anti-pleasure
Mohcans sought. But they depended on their hostage,
Spacecaptain Jan Obrien, to find it for them ...
and he was an amorous imp from way back.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories March 1953.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Spacecaptain Jan Obrien was plain drunk and in no condition to handle an aircar. Which fact perhaps can be understood for a man who has not tasted the liquor of Terra in ten years and who comes home to his native planet to find it wrecked by the worst of its wars.
Obrien was in no condition, but nevertheless he was handling an aircar, whizzing down a Rocky Mountain canyon at a couple of hundred miles per hour. The time was barely dawn and the visibility was terrible.
"Slow down, Jan, slow down, slow down!" the sleek young tart in the transparent evening gown kept whimpering. She was not as drunk as Jan. Disgusted with the Chicago nightclub in which he had started his homecoming 12 hours before, Jan had hustled her into the aircar and started out vaguely for Portland or L.A. or both.