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Their tentacles linked and their positron blasts mingling, the two of them soared up from the surface of the ninth planet of Cetis Gamma. They swept away, headed for their home at the extreme outer tip of the most far-flung arm of the spiral outposts of the Galaxy.

“But still,” said Nodalictha, as they swept through emptiness at a speed unimaginable to humans, “they’re wonderfully cute.”

“Yes, darling,” Rhadampsicus agreed, unwilling to start an argument so soon after the wedding. “But not as cute as you.”

On the space yacht, Lon Simpson tried to use his genius to invent a way to get his handcuffs and leg-irons off. He failed completely.

Cathy had to get the keys out of the skipper’s pocket and unlock them for him.

The Girls from Earth, by Frank Robinson

I

“The beasts aren’t much help, are they?”

Karl Allen snatched a breath of air and gave another heave on the line tied to the raft of parampa logs bobbing in the middle of the river.

“No,” he grunted, “they’re not. They always balk at a time like this, when they can see it’ll be hard work.”

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