[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Science Fiction November 1950.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Women will always go on trying to attract men ...
even when the future seems to have no future!
The coupe with the fishhooks welded to the fender shouldered up over
the curb like the nose of a nightmare. The girl in its path stood
frozen, her face probably stiff with fright under her mask. For once my
reflexes weren't shy. I took a fast step toward her, grabbed her elbow,
yanked her back. Her black skirt swirled out.
The big coupe shot by, its turbine humming. I glimpsed three faces.
Something ripped. I felt the hot exhaust on my ankles as the big
coupe swerved back into the street. A thick cloud like a black flower
blossomed from its jouncing rear end, while from the fishhooks flew a
black shimmering rag.
"Did they get you?" I asked the girl.
She had twisted around to look where the side of her skirt was torn
away. She was wearing nylon tights.
"The hooks didn't touch me," she said shakily. "I guess I'm lucky."