DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Fan, issue 2, July 1945

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Fan, issue 2, July 1945

Page 29

29

"Oh, call it her," Myra said. "I've named her Francine."
"I want to see her again. Closer."
"And make me jealous? Oh, all right," Myra laughed. She led Ric into her room where the robot was standing very still in a wall niche, staring straight ahead.
"It -- she looks almost human! Ric gasped. "I saw the robot display at the Exposition last year, but nothing so perfect as this! One almost expects to hear her speak.
"No, that's one thing she won't do," Myra said. "But I'll admit, sometimes when I look at Francine I find myself wondering what she's thinking about!"
"How does she work? It's certainly a marvellous piece of engineering."
"Oh, I don't know  what's inside of her," Myra shrugged,"but she's supposed to have the very latest innovations. She'll obey as many as ten separate instructions, without me needing to repeat them, up to twenty-four hours after I speak to her. So she must have some crude sort of retentive brain."
Ric nodded. "Some birthday gift. And that reminds me, Myra, I didn't realize it was only a week away. Of course, it's another of your old-fashioned ideas, this business of keeping birthdays. "But," he added quickly when he saw her stormy look, "I like it. It's a kind of fun. Well, what am I to get you this year? What would you like?"
Myra's face was very serious, and she didn't look straight at him, and Ric had a sudden feeling of foreboding. He knew that look. He'd seen it before. It meant she wanted something out of the ordinary -- and she usually got what she wanted.
Sure enough. "I want something -- different," she began.
Ric listened, nodding.
"I want to -- to elope!" she blurted.
Ric still nodded agreeably. Then he stopped nodding. She wanted "to elope". Elope? That was almost an archaic word and he had to cast his mind back to remember its meaning. When he finally remembered it, he sank down limply in a chair, feet sprawling, and exclaimed, "Myra, for God's said!" Then, still staring at her as though she were a ghost: "Now I see. It all fits in. These damned dramas of hyours gave you this idea!"

"Well, what if they did! And it's a good idea. Can't we ever do anything different? Don't you ever get bored?"
"What is it," Ric sighed, "the one you had on the 'rad tonight?"
"Well . . . yes. . . ."
"I thought so. That ancient thing. Nineteen-forty, you said."
"I don't care! It was different, and -- and it was romantic."

Saving...

29 "Oh, call it her," Myra said. "I've named her Francine." "I want to see her again. Closer." "And make me jealous? Oh, all right," Myra laughed. She led Ric into her room where the robot was standing very still in a wall niche, staring straight ahead. "It -- she looks almost human! Ric gasped. "I saw the robot display at the Exposition last year, but nothing so perfect as this! One almost expects to hear her speak. "No, that's one thing she won't do," Myra said. "But I'll admit, sometimes when I look at Francine I find myself wondering what she's thinking about!" "How does she work? It's certainly a marvellous piece of engineering." "Oh, I don't know what's inside of her," Myra shrugged,"but she's supposed to have the very latest innovations. She'll obey as many as ten separate instructions, without me needing to repeat them, up to twenty-four hours after I speak to her. So she must have some crude sort of retentive brain." Ric nodded. "Some birthday gift. And that reminds me, Myra, I didn't realize it was only a week away. Of course, it's another of your old-fashioned ideas, this business of keeping birthdays. "But," he added quickly when he saw her stormy look, "I like it. It's a kind of fun. Well, what am I to get you this year? What would you like?" Myra's face was very serious, and she didn't look straight at him, and Ric had a sudden feeling of foreboding. He knew that look. He'd seen it before. It meant she wanted something out of the ordinary -- and she usually got what she wanted. Sure enough. "I want something -- different," she began. Ric listened, nodding. "I want to -- to elope!" she blurted. Ric still nodded agreeably. Then he stopped nodding. She wanted "to elope". Elope? That was almost an archaic word and he had to cast his mind back to remember its meaning. When he finally remembered it, he sank down limply in a chair, feet sprawling, and exclaimed, "Myra, for God's said!" Then, still staring at her as though she were a ghost: "Now I see. It all fits in. These damned dramas of hyours gave you this idea!" "Well, what if they did! And it's a good idea. Can't we ever do anything different? Don't you ever get bored?" "What is it," Ric sighed, "the one you had on the 'rad tonight?" "Well . . . yes. . . ." "I thought so. That ancient thing. Nineteen-forty, you said." "I don't care! It was different, and -- and it was romantic."