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The Very Black
The Very Black
The Very Black
Ebook48 pages32 minutes

The Very Black

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Release dateNov 27, 2013
The Very Black

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    Book preview

    The Very Black - Dean Evans

    The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Very Black, by Dean Evans

    This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

    almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

    re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

    with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

    Title: The Very Black

    Author: Dean Evans

    Release Date: March 10, 2010 [EBook #31586]

    Language: English

    *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VERY BLACK ***

    Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online

    Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

    Transcriber's Note:

    This etext was produced from Fantastic Universe Aug-Sept 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.

    Anders was pretty sure he was going to die. No one had yet flown the new-style jet job and lived to tell the tale. A story both chilling and heart-warming that shows us how bravely the human equation can operate when the chips are stacked against it.

    the very black

    by ... Dean Evans

    Jet test-pilots and love do not mix too happily as a rule—especially with a ninth-dimensional alter ego messing the whole act.


    There was nothing peculiar about that certain night I suppose—except to me personally. A little earlier in the evening I'd walked out on the Doll, Margie Hayman—and a man doesn't do that and cheer over it. Not if he's in love with the Doll he doesn't—not this doll. If you've ever seen her you'll give the nod on that.

    The trouble had been Air Force's new triangular ship—the new saucer. Not radio controlled, this one—this one was to carry a real live pilot. At least that's what the doll's father, who was Chief Engineer at Airtech, Inc., had in mind when he designed it.

    The doll had said to me sort of casually, Got something, Baby. She called me baby. Me, one eighty-five in goose pimples.

    Toss it over, Doll, I said.

    No strings on you, Baby. She'd grinned that little one-sided grin of hers. No strings on you. Not even one. You're a flyboy, you are, and you can take off or land any time any place you feel like it.

    Stake your mom's Charleston cup on that, I said.

    She nodded. Her one-sided grin seemed to fade slightly but she hooked it up again fast. A doll—like I said. This was the original model, they've never gone into production on girls like her full-time.

    She said, "Therefore, I've got no right to go stalking with a salt shaker in one hand and a

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