Diane's husband spent most of his time on
Mars, and I spent most of mine with Diane. It
was a nice arrangement--much too nice to last!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
July 1954
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
"It's tonight or never," Diane said.
"Yes," I said.
I watched her as she walked back and forth across my bedroom floor.
She had on a sheer plasto dress that clung to her round white breasts
and full milky thighs. "I'm picking him up at the spaceway," she said.
"We're supposed to go dining and dancing tonight." She stopped pacing.
"It's my birthday. I'm thirty today."
And I was twenty-four and in love. Six years between us. So what? I
didn't give a damn. I wanted to marry her, to live with her.
"I'm thirty," she said again. "Do you mind?"
"I know your age. Why bring it up?"
"Someday you'll find out you married an old woman. _If_ we ever do
marry."
"Stop it." I got off the bed, went to her. "Just tell me what to do
and I'll do it."
"Do you love me?" she looked up at me.
"You know I do."
"Say it."
"I love you."
"Never stop saying that." She put up her face and I kissed her. A
long hard kiss. She broke away. "You'll be in back in the racer. Just
crouch low. As soon as we're away from the spaceway you hit him with
the wrench. It has to be quick and sure. Then we carry him up to the
apartment and drop him out the window."
I shuddered a little as she talked. She was so calm about the whole
thing.
"You'll have plenty of time to get out. It'll be listed as a suicide.
He's been sick for a long time. His doctor will testify to that. He was
so sick and worried he jumped to his death."