THE LUMINOUS BLONDE By HAYDEN HOWARD _Some dames are bright. Some brighter. Like the gorgeous wife of the playboy Commish who combined all the stellar attributes necessary to slice in two parts an ultra modern spaceship, and a marriage, with one swoop of a clockhand._ [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories November 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] As the frilly-bloused rockette bent over him to unbuckle his safticorsette, newly appointed Commissioner-For-Economics-For-Mars J. Edwin Elbert peeked. But her fingernails tatted so hastily at the buckle that he raised his surprisingly youthful blue eyes to her face. She was blushing there too. A pretty little baby face. Skillfully he swallowed a rising belch that was a natural consequence of the cessation of gravity upon a paunch overbloated with farewell champagne, Venus-dipped cold crab and too sweet apricot bread. "Director Hugens is to be congratulated upon his choice of rockettes," he rumbled, sneaking his fat, glossily manicured fingers about her wrist. The click of the powder-room door would warn him of his wife's return. "Just the other day I was telling him that the new Bolo II should have only the best. I see he has exceeded even my most hopeful expectations." She giggled nervously. "Tell me my dear, when does the Bolo go into Hugens' celebrated centrigrav? This weightlessness is rather unsettling to one's stomach." "Can I get you a demamine pill, sir?" "No, thank you. When does--" "Oh! At 1900 hours," she gushed. "The ship splits in half," she added helpfully, and dimpled in that winning way of little girls who will never grow up. "Remarkable. They tell me some sort of cable will tie us together." "Yes sir, when we are far enough out in space so there isn't any air friction, Mr. Webley, the pilot, pulls a little lever and the nose flies off. He'll be all alone out there for forty-two days." "And only a thin cable connects our passenger section to his control section?" He was quite familiar with the details since he had lobbied for the initial appropriation. Her forearm had a nice warm smooth feeling. "Oh, you understand it perfectly, sir. When we're a mile apart a little rocket in the side makes us spin round and round. Then I can take off these old iron shoes." She followed his gaze to her legs and tittered. He speculated that similar magnets must be holding down the hem of her nylon skirt. "And does this spinning about a common axis continue until we near Mars?" "Yes sir, for forty-two days. Excuse me sir, I think null gravity is making that lady ill."