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+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #68373 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68373)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Gently Orbiting Blonde, by John
-Victor Peterson
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: The Gently Orbiting Blonde
-
-Author: John Victor Peterson
-
-Release Date: June 22, 2022 [eBook #68373]
-
-Language: English
-
-Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed
- Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GENTLY ORBITING
-BLONDE ***
-
-
-
-
-
- The Gently Orbiting Blonde
-
- By JOHN VICTOR PETERSON
-
- Illustrated by ENGLE
-
- _Anti-gravity may be hard
- to handle--but a woman
- scorned is still harder!_
-
- [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
- Infinity, April 1957.
- Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
- the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
-
-
-Maybe Helene's right in saying that I shouldn't tell exactly how our
-living room became the training station for Space Satellite One. If I
-don't, though, I'm afraid she'll let it slip out as a deep dark secret
-to one of her tri-dielectronic bridge friends and it'll be all over the
-Project as quickly as a pile past critical mass. It certainly wouldn't
-help my reputation at the labs, especially if in the retelling the
-facts should become distorted about Gladys, the gently orbiting blonde.
-
-Some of it was accidental, certainly, but didn't Wilhelm Roentgen get
-brushed by the breeze of chance?
-
-I must have been on the right track, anyhow!
-
-I'll leave it to you....
-
-It's true, I _do_ get absorbed in things. So it happened on the night I
-was married. But I did, after all, carry Helene across the threshold.
-Can I help it that, as I was fetching her a toast, I just happened to
-glance up at the sun-chandelier in our cathedral-ceilinged living room
-and got reminded of the Project and decided I just had to go down into
-my lab in the basement and change one little bit of circuitry? When
-you're working on something as elusive as anti-gravity, you've got to
-seize upon every minute of inspiration.
-
-I told her I'd be right back and dashed downstairs. I guess I should
-have kissed her first. I forgot. I'm sorry now. In a way. If I had,
-maybe--But, let's face it, I forgot.
-
-You could ask old Ruocco, my psych prof. He always says I've
-supernormal powers of concentration.
-
-There I was in the basement. One thing led to another. I rearranged the
-circuitry on the psionic machine and found then that changes in the
-gyrorotors were indicated.
-
-Something intruded vaguely on my mind but I ignored it, enmeshed as I
-was in magnetostriction lines. This just might work!
-
-It didn't. My concentration was disrupted. I glanced at my watch. _Oi_!
-I thought, _Helene!_
-
-And my subconscious told me with sickening certainty that the near
-disturbance I had had, had been the slamming of a door--of the front
-door by someone on the way out.
-
-I went upstairs. Helene was gone, complete with pocketbook. Her valises
-had been in the car and I saw from the living room window that she'd
-taken that.
-
-She'd gone home to Mom, I guessed. She'd have no trouble getting off
-the reservation; she had a nonsensitive job on the Project. Not like
-me; I couldn't get pried out of White Sands by less than Presidential
-order.
-
-It'd be hours before I could try visioing her. Mom's way up in
-Connecticut, quite a hop even by jetliner.
-
-I sat on the chitchat bench, felt sorry for myself for a second and
-then got concentrating on the starchart on the ceiling above the
-sun-chandelier and decided that if man was to start exploring upward
-I'd better continue my exploring downstairs.
-
-But I couldn't concentrate. I fiddled around rewiring the psionic
-machine just to have something to do.
-
-The front door banged again with the loveliest, most satisfying
-solid bang--and I dropped my soldering iron on a printed circuit and
-something went _whoosh_ which wasn't just me going up the stairs.
-Simultaneously a feminine scream came to meet me.
-
- * * * * *
-
-I went up the stairs but when I got to the top I
-didn't--couldn't--stop. I kept going up, making climbing motions and
-touching nothing at all until my head ricocheted off the curving
-ceiling and I bounced down upon my contour chair. I didn't stop there
-but bounced right back up again, vaguely aware that the recoiling chair
-was slowly following me.
-
-During this time I was seeing considerably more stars than you'd see
-from Palomar on a good clear night.
-
-The stars began to blink out of focus, and me in. And then, in the
-midst of marveling over the undeniable fact that I'd discovered--well,
-what about Roentgen?--_discovered_ anti- or at least _null_-gravity, I
-remembered (a) the door slamming and (b) the scream.
-
-I bounced off the ceiling, cartwheeled a bit, glanced off a picture of
-a Viking rocket on the wall which took off on a trajectory of its own,
-and then spun in my orbit and got a look at the blonde.
-
-Now, anyone under normal conditions would have taken a good look at the
-blonde. I was, however, performing what is known in aeronautics as a
-barrel-roll, and my viewing of the blonde was the sweeping scan of a
-surveillance radar.
-
-Not that I hadn't seen the blonde before. I knew her well. Her name is
-Gladys. She's the most gorgeously put-together creature at the Sands.
-Most of the boys would ride bareback on a Nike if she gave them the
-smile she was giving me then.
-
-Gladys was in a gentle orbit as nearly circular as that of Venus. Her
-primary was the sun-chandelier.
-
-I thought then of another Venus. Only Gladys has arms. Her arms were
-bare. In fact, a lot of Gladys was bare and there's a lot of Gladys,
-all nicely proportioned, of course. The sunsuit's designer had
-indubitably been inspired by a Bikini.
-
-I bounced off a sofa, which absorbed some of my inertia, and through
-some frictional freak stopped my axial rotation. I went then into
-an elliptical orbit grazing the chitchat bench at aphelion and the
-chandelier at perihelion.
-
-The thought of Helene crossed my mind in a peculiarly guilty manner,
-and I was rather glad at that moment that Gladys and I weren't on a
-collision orbit.
-
-"Now that you've stopped pingponging," Gladys said, "you might tell
-me how we're going to get out of this fix. And I don't mind behaving
-like an electron but you might make like a positron and come a little
-closer; it's getting cold in here! By the way, where's Helene?"
-
-I don't know why, but I told her. And maybe I did put on an aggrieved
-husband act a bit, but who could blame me?
-
-"Oh, Bill, I'm sorry," she said throatily. "You're so attractive, so
-fine. To think you've been snared by someone who doesn't appreciate
-your worth, your handsomeness, your manly strength. Oh, why couldn't
-you just have given poor little me a glance? After all, we've been
-together in the Project Lab every day. I _know_ you, Bill, and I'm _so_
-sorry!"
-
-And she moved on, lovely, graceful in her gentle orbit, and my heart
-swelled with recognition of her compassion.
-
-I started to make a self-effacing remark, stammered, and finally
-changed my mind and asked, "But how did you happen to come here?"
-
-She sighed. "Business, I'm sorry to state. Jim O'Brien wants you at
-the lab. Thinks he's on the track of anti-grav--and here you have it
-already! Gee, Bill, it _is_ getting cold in here!"
-
-I hadn't noticed.
-
-Just then the thermostat did notice, and the air-conditioning unit cut
-in. Warm air started to blow from the baseboard outlets.
-
-"Bill--"
-
-"Yeah," I answered, trajecting past the chitchat bench and wondering
-if by stretching real hard I could reach it on the next trip round and
-drag myself to it. Then, if it didn't come unplugged I could ground
-(now _that_ was a silly thought!)--I could _stop_ myself and maybe work
-out of the living room along the edge of the tacked-down carpet.
-
-"Bill, if Helene doesn't come back, do you think, maybe--"
-
-I thought, maybe.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Hey, was I imagining things or was my orbit changing? And was Gladys
-smiling more warmly?
-
-Oh, oh! The air-vents were doing it, the air currents from them
-pressing me into a more curving trajectory which would probably graze
-Gladys' orbit.
-
-I was passing the chitchat bench. I flailed out for it, missed, and my
-movement seemed to twist my trajectory even more. I looked at Gladys
-and she was smiling warmly, welcomingly. I thought of Helene and felt
-like a louse. An airborne louse. Without wings, like a louse should
-be. You need wings to fly. If I'd had them I think I'd have flown.
-Elsewhere.
-
-Sure, you can let your conscience be your guide but what can you do
-when you're helplessly warped into a collision orbit with one of the
-loveliest women in the world, a welcoming planet in a closed system of
-your own peculiar manufacture?
-
-The visio started buzzing then and I wondered agonizingly if it were
-Helene. On the other hand, it might be Jim O'Brien wondering why Gladys
-hadn't come back. With no answer, he might come over, but I doubted it.
-Jim's a bachelor and somewhat of a hermit.
-
-Ah, missed on this go-round, but it was close. Gladys' smile told me
-she was paying no heed to the buzzing visio at all.
-
-The sun-chandelier--I could reach it! I caught at one of its sunburst's
-rays. It promptly snapped off, but the action had changed my orbit.
-
-Changed it--and how! Now I was in precisely the same orbit as Gladys
-and gaining! She smiled back over her nicely rounded shoulder. It
-wasn't fair!
-
-I hadn't heard a sound outside, what with the visio buzzing away like
-mad, but the front door was suddenly opened and there was Helene
-starting to come in, a big package in her arms.
-
-"Stay out!" I cried. "Don't come in, Helene!"
-
-I was a split second too late; her foot hit the null-grav area and she
-was suddenly orbiting, her package tumbling off on a trajectory of its
-own, her pocketbook a satellite beside her.
-
-Helene was startled, certainly, but not beyond speech. "Bill Wright,"
-she cried, "you're a beast! You bring me home on our wedding night and
-leave me for your silly machine and without a single solitary drop
-to drink in the servomech and I go out for something and come back
-to find you flying after that blonde hussy!" She swept up around the
-chandelier, her orbit grazing it at perihelion but apparently destined
-to be far remote at aphelion.
-
-"But, dear--" I started.
-
-"Don't dear me!" she cried, and went out of my range of vision just as
-I overtook Gladys and her outflung arms caught me painfully by the
-neck.
-
-Which is when Helene's orbit mercifully turned out to be a collision
-orbit with Gladys'--and she took Gladys away from me like a super-Nike
-taking out a stratojet-bomber. They bounced against the ceiling. Gladys
-took the impact. Rearward. Fortunately Mother Nature had been kind.
-
-Helene bounced away from Gladys. Strands of blonde hair went with her.
-
-"Dark roots!" Helene cried triumphantly.
-
-Gladys said a bad word.
-
-I conjectured.
-
-"Say," I said, but the girls were shouting. I yelled, "Hey!"
-
-They quieted but kept glaring balefully at each other and circled like
-a couple of female wrestlers waiting--but wholly unable--to pounce.
-
-"We're in a pickle," I started.
-
-"_You're_ in a pickle," Helene corrected me.
-
-"Oh, stop it!" I said.
-
-"I didn't start it," Helene said.
-
-Logic!
-
-"Now, look," I said, "we've got to get down. If one of us could only
-manage to grasp something that's fastened--the carpet, a window, a
-doorknob--"
-
-I didn't finish; it was too painfully obvious that none of our orbits
-took us that close to the finite boundaries of my null-grav living
-room. Helene's, I noticed, was the closest. A germ of an idea came into
-my mind as I observed that Helene's handbag was still in a tight orbit
-around her.
-
-"Honey," I said.
-
-She raged at that and made futile fluttering motions as though she
-thought she just might be able to fly.
-
-Perhaps formality was indicated.
-
-"Mrs. Wright," I tried.
-
-Gladys laughed and the irate Mrs. Wright, sweeping close to Gladys'
-orbit at perihelion, made a vicious swipe which neatly tore away a
-considerable portion of the upper part of Gladys' sunsuit, which
-portion went fluttering away on a bat-like trajectory of its own. I
-forgot the portion; the point of departure was more absorbing.
-
-Helene gasped and told me to concentrate on getting us down; but my
-powers of concentration were rather difficult to influence since I was
-in a fixed orbit and, like Mercury or old Luna, my face was turned
-inward and Gladys' orbit was now considerably tighter than mine.
-
-"Well, do something, will you!" Helene cried. "At least, stop leering!"
-
-Now I'm a reasonable man even when befuddled by null-grav, so I tried
-to forget about orbiting hemispheres and to attack the problem of
-reaching terra firma.
-
-I closed my eyes, but promptly became so unoriented that I almost
-became ill; so I opened them again and concentrated on my primary, the
-sun-chandelier.
-
-The visio had stopped buzzing. I hoped that meant that Jim O'Brien--if
-it had been Jim--had figured that something was amiss and was now
-hurrying over in his Caddicopter. He could throw us a line and haul us
-out. Then I threw that hope away. Jim's severely practical; and this
-_was_ to have been my wedding night.
-
-Oh, well....
-
- * * * * *
-
-Could one of us somehow reach the sun-chandelier and short it, thereby
-shorting the machine downstairs? Mentally reconstructing the house's
-electrical circuitry, I concluded that my lab was on a separate circuit.
-
-_Hey! I am confused_, I thought. Helene's handbag! I'd thought of it
-before. Of course! Women carry all sorts of things.
-
-"Helene," I said, "do you have a squeeze bottle in your bag? Perfume or
-hair spray or deodorant, maybe?"
-
-"Bill Wright, if you think for one minute that I'm going to--"
-
-"Have you?" I cut in.
-
-She spluttered. "Perfume," she finally said grudgingly. "Though with
-that eau-de-whatever Gladys is wearing, I should think--"
-
-"Oh, stop it! Now will you please get the perfume out!"
-
-She did; then she went wandering off to aphelion in her orbit and
-momentarily out of my line of sight. When she came back toward
-perihelion with the chandelier, I said, "Now, look, wriggle around a
-little axially if you can--"
-
-That did it. Helene exploded into a verbal nova. "You lecherous beast!"
-she cried. "It isn't enough for you to dally with this shameless blonde
-hussy on our wedding night. Not enough for you to float along looking
-like a blissful ogling ogre, making mental mockery of your wedding
-vows. No, you--you BEM!--you have to ask your meek and retiring, your
-quiet and unassuming, your defenseless and self-effacing wife to act
-like a bumping and grinding burlesque queen!"
-
-And my meek, retiring, quiet, unassuming, etc., wife went on
-etcetera-ing ad practically infinitum.
-
-When swiftly trajecting Helene's tirade paused for lack of words and/or
-breath, I said meekly above the gently orbiting blonde's chuckles, "But
-I was only trying to get us out of this mess. I wanted you to perform
-a slight axial rotation so that you could aim your--er--posterior
-at the cellar door when you next reach aphelion near it. Do you
-understand?"
-
-"No," she said, but did manage by some completely feminine and to me
-quite incomprehensible maneuvers (girdle girding procedure, maybe?) to
-twist ninety degrees axially.
-
-"When I say 'go,' squeeze the spray bottle," I directed, "and keep
-squeezing it hard and keep it pointing straight away from your
-longitudinal axis."
-
-"My _what_? Now, look, what do you think you'll accom--"
-
-"Wait!" I cut her off. "For every action there's an equal and opposite
-reaction, right? I hope you'll widen your orbit when the reaction sets
-in."
-
-She was nearing aphelion. "Go!" I cried.
-
-She did squeeze the spray bottle, and kept squeezing it quickly and
-strongly, but so far as I could judge her orbit wasn't effected one
-whit. Something was accomplished, however, that made our situation more
-desperate: those little droplets of potent perfume proceeded to bounce,
-scatter, splatter and ricochet all over the place. The scent spread.
-Overpoweringly.
-
-"And _you_ talked about _my_ perfume!" Gladys cried and began to giggle
-again.
-
-My gaze wandered toward the lovely albeit space-happy blonde.
-
-"Bill!" Helene cried as she swept across my line of sight. She looked
-like an avenging angel, a very lovely one. She made me feel humble and
-contrite; I went dutifully back to the problem.
-
- * * * * *
-
-It seemed rather hopeless. Both Gladys and I were orbiting nearly
-parallel to the floor in what I was calling the plane of the ecliptic.
-My brief encounter with the chandelier had twisted me into the plane as
-had Gladys' unfortunate but exhilarating encounter with my irate bride.
-
-Helene's orbit was still tilted from the plane, like Pluto's, and was
-curiously elliptical like a comet's. Currents created by the allegedly
-draftless air-conditioning system must have caused and must be
-maintaining the ellipse. Being a newcomer to our tight little system,
-Helene also still had considerable orbital speed whereas air resistance
-would soon bring Gladys and me to a midair stop, probably in inferior
-opposition. I knew what Helene would think of that.
-
-I decided we couldn't do anything individually or jointly unless an
-outside agent were introduced or full advantage taken of something
-already present.
-
-We had cosmic debris, for sure: the flipflopping chaise longue which
-was in a tight orbit near the peak of the cathedral ceiling; the
-framed picture of the Viking rocket (could I ever use a little of
-_its_ thrust now!) fluttering close to the flapping torn part-away of
-the sunsuit down below the plane of the ecliptic; and the big package
-Helene had brought. The last suddenly proved to be on a collision orbit
-with Gladys, curving in then to bump against her derriere. Reaching
-back swiftly she caught it like an errant salesman's hand. I waited
-expectantly.
-
-"Wonderful!" she commented. "Wonderful!" And pulled out a bottle of
-Scotch. I watched in fascinated, gleeful anticipation as she unscrewed
-the cap, and moved the bottle up toward celestial north to reach a
-normal drinking position. Naturally the contents promptly departed;
-then splashed against the arch of the ceiling and went into a thousand
-odd orbits, of which many made moist contact with my own. The
-perfume-Scotch combination--_yoicks!_
-
-"Glad," I said.
-
-"Oh, it's _Glad_ now!" Helene burst.
-
-I ignored her.
-
-"Glad, get the package in your hands like a basketball--"
-
-"Yes, conceal your shame!" Helene cut in acidly.
-
-"Will you stop it?" I cried. "Now, Glad, listen, aim it toward my
-orbit. Lead me a little--there, that ought to do it. Now when I count
-down to zero give it a shove. Ready? Three, two, one--_zero_!"
-
-It was dead on!
-
-I looked in the bag, hoping to find a newly charged carbonation unit
-for the servomech bar. I didn't, but I found something else!
-
-"Helene," I said, "I love you!"--and I drew forth the loveliest magnum
-of champagne you'd ever hope to see.
-
-"But, Bill," Helene cried, "that's to celebrate our wedding night!"
-
-I appreciated the present tense but said nothing, working on the wire
-which bound the cork.
-
-"Bill, remember what happened to the Scotch," Gladys warned me.
-
-I ignored them both, thinking furiously. It _had_ to be Helene! She
-would sweep to the apogee of her cometlike orbit near the cellar door
-again in seconds. I shook the magnum as violently as I could. Its cork
-went whooshing off on a ricochet romance with the Scotch cap. The freed
-and deeply disturbed champagne blasted off straight for the most remote
-point in Helene's orbit--and Helene was there! On target!
-
-I went whirling backward with the reacting magnum against my chest,
-bounced against a wall, smacked against the chandelier, flipflopped
-a few times and found myself orbiting directly below Gladys. I
-re-oriented myself with some effort and found by twisting my head
-sharply that I could see the results of the improvised jet blast:
-Helene, drenched with champagne, stood in gravity on the cellar stairs.
-
-"Dear," I ventured, "just go down and ease off on the rheostat; that'll
-cancel this out gradually and let us down easily."
-
-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.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Now you must excuse me; I've got to degravitize the living room.
-They're due here for training in a few minutes--the Satellite One
-Cadets. I worked out a keyer that remotely controls the null-grav's
-rheostat; it's calibrated to permit creating any sub-gravitational
-effect from one G down to null-G. Those boys are really getting trained.
-
-Someday I'll duplicate the null-grav over at the Project--Jim O'Brien
-and I have nearly got the circuitry licked--and we'll have the living
-room all to ourselves. Jim and his blushing bride--Gladys--come over
-almost every evening after the Cadets are through. We play null-grav
-polo, orbital chess and some other games we've adapted. Our favorite,
-though, is "Pick Your Planet" where we take turns imitating the orbit
-of one of Sol's planets, planetoids, moons or visiting comets, and
-pantomiming other clues.
-
-Funny, but most often Helene or Gladys chooses Venus. With them, poor
-cold old Pluto's out.
-
-Women are funny that way.
-
-*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GENTLY ORBITING
-BLONDE ***
-
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- The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Gently Orbiting Blonde, by John Victor Peterson.
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-<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Gently Orbiting Blonde, by John Victor Peterson</p>
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
-at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
-are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
-country where you are located before using this eBook.
-</div>
-
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Gently Orbiting Blonde</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: John Victor Peterson</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 22, 2022 [eBook #68373]</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p>
- <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net</p>
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GENTLY ORBITING BLONDE ***</div>
-
-<div class="titlepage">
-
-<div class="figcenter">
- <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<h1>The Gently Orbiting Blonde</h1>
-
-<h2>by JOHN VICTOR PETERSON</h2>
-
-<p>Illustrated by ENGLE</p>
-
-<p><i>Anti-gravity may be hard<br />
-to handle&mdash;but a woman<br />
-scorned is still harder!</i></p>
-
-<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br />
-Infinity, April 1957.<br />
-Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br />
-the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p>Maybe Helene's right in saying that I shouldn't tell exactly how our
-living room became the training station for Space Satellite One. If I
-don't, though, I'm afraid she'll let it slip out as a deep dark secret
-to one of her tri-dielectronic bridge friends and it'll be all over the
-Project as quickly as a pile past critical mass. It certainly wouldn't
-help my reputation at the labs, especially if in the retelling the
-facts should become distorted about Gladys, the gently orbiting blonde.</p>
-
-<p>Some of it was accidental, certainly, but didn't Wilhelm Roentgen get
-brushed by the breeze of chance?</p>
-
-<p>I must have been on the right track, anyhow!</p>
-
-<p>I'll leave it to you....</p>
-
-<p>It's true, I <i>do</i> get absorbed in things. So it happened on the night I
-was married. But I did, after all, carry Helene across the threshold.
-Can I help it that, as I was fetching her a toast, I just happened to
-glance up at the sun-chandelier in our cathedral-ceilinged living room
-and got reminded of the Project and decided I just had to go down into
-my lab in the basement and change one little bit of circuitry? When
-you're working on something as elusive as anti-gravity, you've got to
-seize upon every minute of inspiration.</p>
-
-<p>I told her I'd be right back and dashed downstairs. I guess I should
-have kissed her first. I forgot. I'm sorry now. In a way. If I had,
-maybe&mdash;But, let's face it, I forgot.</p>
-
-<p>You could ask old Ruocco, my psych prof. He always says I've
-supernormal powers of concentration.</p>
-
-<p>There I was in the basement. One thing led to another. I rearranged the
-circuitry on the psionic machine and found then that changes in the
-gyrorotors were indicated.</p>
-
-<p>Something intruded vaguely on my mind but I ignored it, enmeshed as I
-was in magnetostriction lines. This just might work!</p>
-
-<p>It didn't. My concentration was disrupted. I glanced at my watch. <i>Oi</i>!
-I thought, <i>Helene!</i></p>
-
-<p>And my subconscious told me with sickening certainty that the near
-disturbance I had had, had been the slamming of a door&mdash;of the front
-door by someone on the way out.</p>
-
-<p>I went upstairs. Helene was gone, complete with pocketbook. Her valises
-had been in the car and I saw from the living room window that she'd
-taken that.</p>
-
-<p>She'd gone home to Mom, I guessed. She'd have no trouble getting off
-the reservation; she had a nonsensitive job on the Project. Not like
-me; I couldn't get pried out of White Sands by less than Presidential
-order.</p>
-
-<p>It'd be hours before I could try visioing her. Mom's way up in
-Connecticut, quite a hop even by jetliner.</p>
-
-<p>I sat on the chitchat bench, felt sorry for myself for a second and
-then got concentrating on the starchart on the ceiling above the
-sun-chandelier and decided that if man was to start exploring upward
-I'd better continue my exploring downstairs.</p>
-
-<p>But I couldn't concentrate. I fiddled around rewiring the psionic
-machine just to have something to do.</p>
-
-<p>The front door banged again with the loveliest, most satisfying
-solid bang&mdash;and I dropped my soldering iron on a printed circuit and
-something went <i>whoosh</i> which wasn't just me going up the stairs.
-Simultaneously a feminine scream came to meet me.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>I went up the stairs but when I got to the top I
-didn't&mdash;couldn't&mdash;stop. I kept going up, making climbing motions and
-touching nothing at all until my head ricocheted off the curving
-ceiling and I bounced down upon my contour chair. I didn't stop there
-but bounced right back up again, vaguely aware that the recoiling chair
-was slowly following me.</p>
-
-<p>During this time I was seeing considerably more stars than you'd see
-from Palomar on a good clear night.</p>
-
-<p>The stars began to blink out of focus, and me in. And then, in the
-midst of marveling over the undeniable fact that I'd discovered&mdash;well,
-what about Roentgen?&mdash;<i>discovered</i> anti- or at least <i>null</i>-gravity, I
-remembered (a) the door slamming and (b) the scream.</p>
-
-<p>I bounced off the ceiling, cartwheeled a bit, glanced off a picture of
-a Viking rocket on the wall which took off on a trajectory of its own,
-and then spun in my orbit and got a look at the blonde.</p>
-
-<p>Now, anyone under normal conditions would have taken a good look at the
-blonde. I was, however, performing what is known in aeronautics as a
-barrel-roll, and my viewing of the blonde was the sweeping scan of a
-surveillance radar.</p>
-
-<p>Not that I hadn't seen the blonde before. I knew her well. Her name is
-Gladys. She's the most gorgeously put-together creature at the Sands.
-Most of the boys would ride bareback on a Nike if she gave them the
-smile she was giving me then.</p>
-
-<p>Gladys was in a gentle orbit as nearly circular as that of Venus. Her
-primary was the sun-chandelier.</p>
-
-<p>I thought then of another Venus. Only Gladys has arms. Her arms were
-bare. In fact, a lot of Gladys was bare and there's a lot of Gladys,
-all nicely proportioned, of course. The sunsuit's designer had
-indubitably been inspired by a Bikini.</p>
-
-<p>I bounced off a sofa, which absorbed some of my inertia, and through
-some frictional freak stopped my axial rotation. I went then into
-an elliptical orbit grazing the chitchat bench at aphelion and the
-chandelier at perihelion.</p>
-
-<p>The thought of Helene crossed my mind in a peculiarly guilty manner,
-and I was rather glad at that moment that Gladys and I weren't on a
-collision orbit.</p>
-
-<p>"Now that you've stopped pingponging," Gladys said, "you might tell
-me how we're going to get out of this fix. And I don't mind behaving
-like an electron but you might make like a positron and come a little
-closer; it's getting cold in here! By the way, where's Helene?"</p>
-
-<p>I don't know why, but I told her. And maybe I did put on an aggrieved
-husband act a bit, but who could blame me?</p>
-
-<p>"Oh, Bill, I'm sorry," she said throatily. "You're so attractive, so
-fine. To think you've been snared by someone who doesn't appreciate
-your worth, your handsomeness, your manly strength. Oh, why couldn't
-you just have given poor little me a glance? After all, we've been
-together in the Project Lab every day. I <i>know</i> you, Bill, and I'm <i>so</i>
-sorry!"</p>
-
-<p>And she moved on, lovely, graceful in her gentle orbit, and my heart
-swelled with recognition of her compassion.</p>
-
-<p>I started to make a self-effacing remark, stammered, and finally
-changed my mind and asked, "But how did you happen to come here?"</p>
-
-<p>She sighed. "Business, I'm sorry to state. Jim O'Brien wants you at
-the lab. Thinks he's on the track of anti-grav&mdash;and here you have it
-already! Gee, Bill, it <i>is</i> getting cold in here!"</p>
-
-<p>I hadn't noticed.</p>
-
-<p>Just then the thermostat did notice, and the air-conditioning unit cut
-in. Warm air started to blow from the baseboard outlets.</p>
-
-<p>"Bill&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"Yeah," I answered, trajecting past the chitchat bench and wondering
-if by stretching real hard I could reach it on the next trip round and
-drag myself to it. Then, if it didn't come unplugged I could ground
-(now <i>that</i> was a silly thought!)&mdash;I could <i>stop</i> myself and maybe work
-out of the living room along the edge of the tacked-down carpet.</p>
-
-<p>"Bill, if Helene doesn't come back, do you think, maybe&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>I thought, maybe.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Hey, was I imagining things or was my orbit changing? And was Gladys
-smiling more warmly?</p>
-
-<p>Oh, oh! The air-vents were doing it, the air currents from them
-pressing me into a more curving trajectory which would probably graze
-Gladys' orbit.</p>
-
-<p>I was passing the chitchat bench. I flailed out for it, missed, and my
-movement seemed to twist my trajectory even more. I looked at Gladys
-and she was smiling warmly, welcomingly. I thought of Helene and felt
-like a louse. An airborne louse. Without wings, like a louse should
-be. You need wings to fly. If I'd had them I think I'd have flown.
-Elsewhere.</p>
-
-<p>Sure, you can let your conscience be your guide but what can you do
-when you're helplessly warped into a collision orbit with one of the
-loveliest women in the world, a welcoming planet in a closed system of
-your own peculiar manufacture?</p>
-
-<p>The visio started buzzing then and I wondered agonizingly if it were
-Helene. On the other hand, it might be Jim O'Brien wondering why Gladys
-hadn't come back. With no answer, he might come over, but I doubted it.
-Jim's a bachelor and somewhat of a hermit.</p>
-
-<p>Ah, missed on this go-round, but it was close. Gladys' smile told me
-she was paying no heed to the buzzing visio at all.</p>
-
-<p>The sun-chandelier&mdash;I could reach it! I caught at one of its sunburst's
-rays. It promptly snapped off, but the action had changed my orbit.</p>
-
-<p>Changed it&mdash;and how! Now I was in precisely the same orbit as Gladys
-and gaining! She smiled back over her nicely rounded shoulder. It
-wasn't fair!</p>
-
-<p>I hadn't heard a sound outside, what with the visio buzzing away like
-mad, but the front door was suddenly opened and there was Helene
-starting to come in, a big package in her arms.</p>
-
-<p>"Stay out!" I cried. "Don't come in, Helene!"</p>
-
-<p>I was a split second too late; her foot hit the null-grav area and she
-was suddenly orbiting, her package tumbling off on a trajectory of its
-own, her pocketbook a satellite beside her.</p>
-
-<p>Helene was startled, certainly, but not beyond speech. "Bill Wright,"
-she cried, "you're a beast! You bring me home on our wedding night and
-leave me for your silly machine and without a single solitary drop
-to drink in the servomech and I go out for something and come back
-to find you flying after that blonde hussy!" She swept up around the
-chandelier, her orbit grazing it at perihelion but apparently destined
-to be far remote at aphelion.</p>
-
-<p>"But, dear&mdash;" I started.</p>
-
-<p>"Don't dear me!" she cried, and went out of my range of vision just as
-I overtook Gladys and her outflung arms caught me painfully by the
-neck.</p>
-
-<p>Which is when Helene's orbit mercifully turned out to be a collision
-orbit with Gladys'&mdash;and she took Gladys away from me like a super-Nike
-taking out a stratojet-bomber. They bounced against the ceiling. Gladys
-took the impact. Rearward. Fortunately Mother Nature had been kind.</p>
-
-<p>Helene bounced away from Gladys. Strands of blonde hair went with her.</p>
-
-<p>"Dark roots!" Helene cried triumphantly.</p>
-
-<p>Gladys said a bad word.</p>
-
-<p>I conjectured.</p>
-
-<p>"Say," I said, but the girls were shouting. I yelled, "Hey!"</p>
-
-<p>They quieted but kept glaring balefully at each other and circled like
-a couple of female wrestlers waiting&mdash;but wholly unable&mdash;to pounce.</p>
-
-<p>"We're in a pickle," I started.</p>
-
-<p>"<i>You're</i> in a pickle," Helene corrected me.</p>
-
-<p>"Oh, stop it!" I said.</p>
-
-<p>"I didn't start it," Helene said.</p>
-
-<p>Logic!</p>
-
-<p>"Now, look," I said, "we've got to get down. If one of us could only
-manage to grasp something that's fastened&mdash;the carpet, a window, a
-doorknob&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>I didn't finish; it was too painfully obvious that none of our orbits
-took us that close to the finite boundaries of my null-grav living
-room. Helene's, I noticed, was the closest. A germ of an idea came into
-my mind as I observed that Helene's handbag was still in a tight orbit
-around her.</p>
-
-<p>"Honey," I said.</p>
-
-<p>She raged at that and made futile fluttering motions as though she
-thought she just might be able to fly.</p>
-
-<p>Perhaps formality was indicated.</p>
-
-<p>"Mrs. Wright," I tried.</p>
-
-<p>Gladys laughed and the irate Mrs. Wright, sweeping close to Gladys'
-orbit at perihelion, made a vicious swipe which neatly tore away a
-considerable portion of the upper part of Gladys' sunsuit, which
-portion went fluttering away on a bat-like trajectory of its own. I
-forgot the portion; the point of departure was more absorbing.</p>
-
-<p>Helene gasped and told me to concentrate on getting us down; but my
-powers of concentration were rather difficult to influence since I was
-in a fixed orbit and, like Mercury or old Luna, my face was turned
-inward and Gladys' orbit was now considerably tighter than mine.</p>
-
-<p>"Well, do something, will you!" Helene cried. "At least, stop leering!"</p>
-
-<p>Now I'm a reasonable man even when befuddled by null-grav, so I tried
-to forget about orbiting hemispheres and to attack the problem of
-reaching terra firma.</p>
-
-<p>I closed my eyes, but promptly became so unoriented that I almost
-became ill; so I opened them again and concentrated on my primary, the
-sun-chandelier.</p>
-
-<p>The visio had stopped buzzing. I hoped that meant that Jim O'Brien&mdash;if
-it had been Jim&mdash;had figured that something was amiss and was now
-hurrying over in his Caddicopter. He could throw us a line and haul us
-out. Then I threw that hope away. Jim's severely practical; and this
-<i>was</i> to have been my wedding night.</p>
-
-<p>Oh, well....</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Could one of us somehow reach the sun-chandelier and short it, thereby
-shorting the machine downstairs? Mentally reconstructing the house's
-electrical circuitry, I concluded that my lab was on a separate circuit.</p>
-
-<p><i>Hey! I am confused</i>, I thought. Helene's handbag! I'd thought of it
-before. Of course! Women carry all sorts of things.</p>
-
-<p>"Helene," I said, "do you have a squeeze bottle in your bag? Perfume or
-hair spray or deodorant, maybe?"</p>
-
-<p>"Bill Wright, if you think for one minute that I'm going to&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"Have you?" I cut in.</p>
-
-<p>She spluttered. "Perfume," she finally said grudgingly. "Though with
-that eau-de-whatever Gladys is wearing, I should think&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"Oh, stop it! Now will you please get the perfume out!"</p>
-
-<p>She did; then she went wandering off to aphelion in her orbit and
-momentarily out of my line of sight. When she came back toward
-perihelion with the chandelier, I said, "Now, look, wriggle around a
-little axially if you can&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>That did it. Helene exploded into a verbal nova. "You lecherous beast!"
-she cried. "It isn't enough for you to dally with this shameless blonde
-hussy on our wedding night. Not enough for you to float along looking
-like a blissful ogling ogre, making mental mockery of your wedding
-vows. No, you&mdash;you BEM!&mdash;you have to ask your meek and retiring, your
-quiet and unassuming, your defenseless and self-effacing wife to act
-like a bumping and grinding burlesque queen!"</p>
-
-<p>And my meek, retiring, quiet, unassuming, etc., wife went on
-etcetera-ing ad practically infinitum.</p>
-
-<p>When swiftly trajecting Helene's tirade paused for lack of words and/or
-breath, I said meekly above the gently orbiting blonde's chuckles, "But
-I was only trying to get us out of this mess. I wanted you to perform
-a slight axial rotation so that you could aim your&mdash;er&mdash;posterior
-at the cellar door when you next reach aphelion near it. Do you
-understand?"</p>
-
-<p>"No," she said, but did manage by some completely feminine and to me
-quite incomprehensible maneuvers (girdle girding procedure, maybe?) to
-twist ninety degrees axially.</p>
-
-<p>"When I say 'go,' squeeze the spray bottle," I directed, "and keep
-squeezing it hard and keep it pointing straight away from your
-longitudinal axis."</p>
-
-<p>"My <i>what</i>? Now, look, what do you think you'll accom&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"Wait!" I cut her off. "For every action there's an equal and opposite
-reaction, right? I hope you'll widen your orbit when the reaction sets
-in."</p>
-
-<p>She was nearing aphelion. "Go!" I cried.</p>
-
-<p>She did squeeze the spray bottle, and kept squeezing it quickly and
-strongly, but so far as I could judge her orbit wasn't effected one
-whit. Something was accomplished, however, that made our situation more
-desperate: those little droplets of potent perfume proceeded to bounce,
-scatter, splatter and ricochet all over the place. The scent spread.
-Overpoweringly.</p>
-
-<p>"And <i>you</i> talked about <i>my</i> perfume!" Gladys cried and began to giggle
-again.</p>
-
-<p>My gaze wandered toward the lovely albeit space-happy blonde.</p>
-
-<p>"Bill!" Helene cried as she swept across my line of sight. She looked
-like an avenging angel, a very lovely one. She made me feel humble and
-contrite; I went dutifully back to the problem.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>It seemed rather hopeless. Both Gladys and I were orbiting nearly
-parallel to the floor in what I was calling the plane of the ecliptic.
-My brief encounter with the chandelier had twisted me into the plane as
-had Gladys' unfortunate but exhilarating encounter with my irate bride.</p>
-
-<p>Helene's orbit was still tilted from the plane, like Pluto's, and was
-curiously elliptical like a comet's. Currents created by the allegedly
-draftless air-conditioning system must have caused and must be
-maintaining the ellipse. Being a newcomer to our tight little system,
-Helene also still had considerable orbital speed whereas air resistance
-would soon bring Gladys and me to a midair stop, probably in inferior
-opposition. I knew what Helene would think of that.</p>
-
-<p>I decided we couldn't do anything individually or jointly unless an
-outside agent were introduced or full advantage taken of something
-already present.</p>
-
-<p>We had cosmic debris, for sure: the flipflopping chaise longue which
-was in a tight orbit near the peak of the cathedral ceiling; the
-framed picture of the Viking rocket (could I ever use a little of
-<i>its</i> thrust now!) fluttering close to the flapping torn part-away of
-the sunsuit down below the plane of the ecliptic; and the big package
-Helene had brought. The last suddenly proved to be on a collision orbit
-with Gladys, curving in then to bump against her derriere. Reaching
-back swiftly she caught it like an errant salesman's hand. I waited
-expectantly.</p>
-
-<p>"Wonderful!" she commented. "Wonderful!" And pulled out a bottle of
-Scotch. I watched in fascinated, gleeful anticipation as she unscrewed
-the cap, and moved the bottle up toward celestial north to reach a
-normal drinking position. Naturally the contents promptly departed;
-then splashed against the arch of the ceiling and went into a thousand
-odd orbits, of which many made moist contact with my own. The
-perfume-Scotch combination&mdash;<i>yoicks!</i></p>
-
-<p>"Glad," I said.</p>
-
-<p>"Oh, it's <i>Glad</i> now!" Helene burst.</p>
-
-<p>I ignored her.</p>
-
-<p>"Glad, get the package in your hands like a basketball&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"Yes, conceal your shame!" Helene cut in acidly.</p>
-
-<p>"Will you stop it?" I cried. "Now, Glad, listen, aim it toward my
-orbit. Lead me a little&mdash;there, that ought to do it. Now when I count
-down to zero give it a shove. Ready? Three, two, one&mdash;<i>zero</i>!"</p>
-
-<p>It was dead on!</p>
-
-<p>I looked in the bag, hoping to find a newly charged carbonation unit
-for the servomech bar. I didn't, but I found something else!</p>
-
-<p>"Helene," I said, "I love you!"&mdash;and I drew forth the loveliest magnum
-of champagne you'd ever hope to see.</p>
-
-<p>"But, Bill," Helene cried, "that's to celebrate our wedding night!"</p>
-
-<p>I appreciated the present tense but said nothing, working on the wire
-which bound the cork.</p>
-
-<p>"Bill, remember what happened to the Scotch," Gladys warned me.</p>
-
-<p>I ignored them both, thinking furiously. It <i>had</i> to be Helene! She
-would sweep to the apogee of her cometlike orbit near the cellar door
-again in seconds. I shook the magnum as violently as I could. Its cork
-went whooshing off on a ricochet romance with the Scotch cap. The freed
-and deeply disturbed champagne blasted off straight for the most remote
-point in Helene's orbit&mdash;and Helene was there! On target!</p>
-
-<p>I went whirling backward with the reacting magnum against my chest,
-bounced against a wall, smacked against the chandelier, flipflopped
-a few times and found myself orbiting directly below Gladys. I
-re-oriented myself with some effort and found by twisting my head
-sharply that I could see the results of the improvised jet blast:
-Helene, drenched with champagne, stood in gravity on the cellar stairs.</p>
-
-<p>"Dear," I ventured, "just go down and ease off on the rheostat; that'll
-cancel this out gradually and let us down easily."</p>
-
-<p>She made a spluttering noise and went downstairs.</p>
-
-<p>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.</p>
-
-<p>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.</p>
-
-<p>"I'm sorry, Bill," Gladys said, <i>September Morn</i>-ing, and hurrying,
-dishevelled and forlorn, out the front door. I heard her car start up
-as Helene came up from the basement.</p>
-
-<p>I ruefully surveyed the shattered visio amid the other debris.</p>
-
-<p>"Null-grav," I said. "Real null-grav. Jim's got to know&mdash;but the
-visio's ruined. I've got to go out and call him."</p>
-
-<p>"Oh, no, you don't!" Helene burst. "Null-grav <i>and</i> Jim O'Brien can
-wait until tomorrow!"</p>
-
-<p>She kissed me tenderly then.</p>
-
-<p>"How right you are," I said, getting re-oriented fast.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Now you must excuse me; I've got to degravitize the living room.
-They're due here for training in a few minutes&mdash;the Satellite One
-Cadets. I worked out a keyer that remotely controls the null-grav's
-rheostat; it's calibrated to permit creating any sub-gravitational
-effect from one G down to null-G. Those boys are really getting trained.</p>
-
-<p>Someday I'll duplicate the null-grav over at the Project&mdash;Jim O'Brien
-and I have nearly got the circuitry licked&mdash;and we'll have the living
-room all to ourselves. Jim and his blushing bride&mdash;Gladys&mdash;come over
-almost every evening after the Cadets are through. We play null-grav
-polo, orbital chess and some other games we've adapted. Our favorite,
-though, is "Pick Your Planet" where we take turns imitating the orbit
-of one of Sol's planets, planetoids, moons or visiting comets, and
-pantomiming other clues.</p>
-
-<p>Funny, but most often Helene or Gladys chooses Venus. With them, poor
-cold old Pluto's out.</p>
-
-<p>Women are funny that way.</p>
-
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