Rhythm Rides the Rocket By Bob Olsen Science Fiction Classics No. 6 Published By COLUMBIA PUBLICATIONS, Inc. 60 HUDSON STREET New York, N.Y. Printed in the U.S.A. Having piloted the Spaceship Goddard through that perilous zone of pelting planetoids and ghostly derelicts which make the region between Mars and Jupiter a nerve-wracking nightmare for space-pilots, Captain Timothy Verger felt an urgent need for rest and relaxation. Turning the controls over to Alphonse LeDoux, the regular Interplanetary Company's pilot, he opened the door which led to the main cabin. On the threshold he paused and gingerly inhaled a disgusted sniff. The place reeked--not that Captain Verger was particularly squeamish about odors. A veteran space-flyer does not expect the interior of a rocket-ship to smell like a spruce forest. The sensations which offended Verger's nostrils were not exactly unpleasant--but they certainly did not belong in an interplanetary freighter. They were feminine smells--the mingled fragrance of talcum powder, cold cream and perfume. And if the odors were incongruous, the sights and the sounds which accompanied them were even more so. The cabin was crowded with women. There must have been at least twenty of them, ranging in ages from eighteen to twenty-five. All of them were playing lustily on horns, clarinettes and other musical instruments. "Of all the unheard-of things!" Verger thought as he ducked beneath the flare of an enormous tuba and sidestepped to avoid the sudden thrust of a trombone slide. "A band rehearsal in the space-lanes, a million miles from nowhere--and a female band at that!" Squeezing between the compactly grouped musicians, Verger could not help brushing against the elbow of the bass-drummer. She was somewhat older than the others--perhaps thirty, he guessed. Although she was not exactly what a television scout would call glamorous, she was the kind of girl who would interest almost any man except a middle-aged, chronic woman-hater like Verger. Framed in a cloud of wavy red hair, her full red lips, pert nose and humorous eyes told an eloquent story of wholesome good nature. As Verger slid past her, mumbling an inaudible apology, she flashed a white-toothed smile at him, shocking him with a deliberate brazen wink. Though he tried to look stern and indifferent, he had to smile back at her in spite of himself.