"You just make the weather, Johnny-boy. I'll take care of business." "Well--" said Johnny. "Johnny!" cried Jo-Anne. "Oh, Johnny! Why don't you act like a man?" And she ran from the room, slamming the door. After that, Johnny didn't see her again. She was gone. Really gone, for certain, not simply walking off in a huff. Two weeks later, Johnny got the letter--unofficial--from the Enemy. * * * * * The F.B.I. was sympathetic, but the Chief said, "You can understand, Mr. Sloman, how our hands are tied. It is not an official letter. We can't prove anything. We don't doubt it for a minute, of course. The cold war enemy has kidnapped your fiancee and taken her to their motherland. But--we can't prove it. Not being able to prove it, we can't do a thing about it. You're aware, of course, of how readily the rest of the world condemns our actions. Not that they wouldn't be on our side if we could prove that this kidnap letter was the real thing, but you realize we won't be able to prove it at all." "Oh," said Johnny. He went home. He saw Harry Bettis, who said he was shocked. The note read: Mr. Johnny Sloman: We have Miss Jo-Anne Davis here in the motherland. The only way she can live a normal life here is if you join her and work for us. We believe you know what the other kind of life is like here. Bettis said, "It stumps the hell out of me, Johnny." "I'm just waking up," said Johnny slowly. "In a way, it's your fault." "Now, don't be a jackass, Johnny." Jackass or no, Johnny hit him. His knuckles went crunch and Harry Bettis' nose went crunch and Bettis fell down. He lay there, his nose not looking so good. Now, when it was apparently too late, Johnny knew what his course of action should have been. Get rid of the money-grubbing Bettis. Go to work for the government unselfishly. Insure world peace. Too late ... too late ... Because unless he could somehow save Jo-Anne, he would never predict the weather again--for anyone. * * * * * "But what you ask is impossible!" the Secretary of Defense said a few days later. "If I come back, if I'm successful," Johnny said quietly, "I'm your man, for as long as you want me, without pay." "You mean that?" the Secretary asked slowly. "I mean it." The Secretary nodded grimly, touched a button on his desk. "Get me Air Force Chief of Staff Burns," he said, and, a moment later: "Bernie? Chuck here. We need a plane. A jet-transport to go you-know-where. Cargo? One man, in a parachute. Can you manage it? Immediately, if not sooner. Good boy, Bernie. No ... no, I'm sorry, I can't tell you a thing about it." The Secretary cut the connection, turned to Johnny: "You leave this afternoon, Sloman. You realize, of course, there isn't a thing we can do to get you out. Not a thing." "Yes," said Johnny. "You're a very brave man, or very much in love." Hours later, the jet transport took off with Johnny in it.