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Fan, issue 2, July 1945
Page 25
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25 AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY - - - - RIC VANN was in no mood for the magnificent panorama of New York City that spread out below him, despite that it was evening and the city was fast becoming a riot of gay color reaching up to the stars. The evening was warm and Ric's thoughts were elsewhere as he leaned comfortably back in his pilot's seat. Then he was blasted abruptly out of his revery by the sound of a siren. He looked back, startled, and saw the tiny white police boat decending upon him with siren still blasting. "Oh lh." Ric reached forward, switched on the manicity repulsion beam, and his trim little air launch hovered. He didn't need to look up to realilze what he'd done. Merely descended dizzily through two express levels! Good lord, what could he have been thinking of? Then he grinned at the mental question. Myra Morison, of course! But the grin vanished as the police boat hovered alongside. There were no rebukes or apologies. The officer merely said, "Card, please," and Ric handed it over. The officer looked gravely at the hole already punched in the tin metal, and punched another beside it. Handing it back, he said: "You know what one more means." It was a statement, not a question. Ric nodded glumly. One more meant he was grounded for the rest of the year. And this was only April. And those were cards that just couldn't be "fixed". He proceeded so carefully that he almost stalled nis beam at the next "down" sign, and a few pilots glared as they swerved and dropped past him. But Ric didn't care. He was almost at Myra's now. He spotted the familiar Morison roof and eased gently down. "HELLO!" Ric said in surprise to the servant who answered his buzz. "Yor're new, aren't you?" He surreptitiously straightened his blue tunic, and removed his hat, revealing blond wavy hair. He smiled at her. She didn't smile at him, and Ric couldn't understand it; she was an exceedingly pretty girl, and pretty girls invariably smiled at him. Without answering, she merely took his hat, turned stiffly and stalked away with it. Ric stared after her a moment, watching her smooth movements, then shrugged and walked into the other room. Myra was on the floor beside the telerad, curled up like a kitten, watching and listening to some kind of drama. Her favorite spot the floor, and her favorite sport, the drama. She smiled a hello at Ric, said "shh!" and turned her attention again to the telerad. Ric turned his attention to her. He winced as heralways did upon observing the silk-clad curled legs. Myra was so old-fashioned in
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25 AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY - - - - RIC VANN was in no mood for the magnificent panorama of New York City that spread out below him, despite that it was evening and the city was fast becoming a riot of gay color reaching up to the stars. The evening was warm and Ric's thoughts were elsewhere as he leaned comfortably back in his pilot's seat. Then he was blasted abruptly out of his revery by the sound of a siren. He looked back, startled, and saw the tiny white police boat decending upon him with siren still blasting. "Oh lh." Ric reached forward, switched on the manicity repulsion beam, and his trim little air launch hovered. He didn't need to look up to realilze what he'd done. Merely descended dizzily through two express levels! Good lord, what could he have been thinking of? Then he grinned at the mental question. Myra Morison, of course! But the grin vanished as the police boat hovered alongside. There were no rebukes or apologies. The officer merely said, "Card, please," and Ric handed it over. The officer looked gravely at the hole already punched in the tin metal, and punched another beside it. Handing it back, he said: "You know what one more means." It was a statement, not a question. Ric nodded glumly. One more meant he was grounded for the rest of the year. And this was only April. And those were cards that just couldn't be "fixed". He proceeded so carefully that he almost stalled nis beam at the next "down" sign, and a few pilots glared as they swerved and dropped past him. But Ric didn't care. He was almost at Myra's now. He spotted the familiar Morison roof and eased gently down. "HELLO!" Ric said in surprise to the servant who answered his buzz. "Yor're new, aren't you?" He surreptitiously straightened his blue tunic, and removed his hat, revealing blond wavy hair. He smiled at her. She didn't smile at him, and Ric couldn't understand it; she was an exceedingly pretty girl, and pretty girls invariably smiled at him. Without answering, she merely took his hat, turned stiffly and stalked away with it. Ric stared after her a moment, watching her smooth movements, then shrugged and walked into the other room. Myra was on the floor beside the telerad, curled up like a kitten, watching and listening to some kind of drama. Her favorite spot the floor, and her favorite sport, the drama. She smiled a hello at Ric, said "shh!" and turned her attention again to the telerad. Ric turned his attention to her. He winced as heralways did upon observing the silk-clad curled legs. Myra was so old-fashioned in
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