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. Strange car,
strange road-only it's not a road."
"Sorry, hon! You're doing beautifully. How can I help?"
"It would help a lot if you would spot the markers for me."
"Sure thing!"
"Then I could keep my eyes down and watch the road close ahead. Some of
those potholes are worse than Manhattan."
"Impossible."
We worked out a system that helped her while bothering her least. As soon
as I spotted a marker I pointed at it. When she saw it, too-not before-she
slapped my knee. We didn't talk because touching helmets did tend to interfere
with her driving.
About an hour later a rolligon showed up ahead and came straight toward us
at high speed. Gwen tapped her helmet over her ear; I pressed my helmet to hers.
She said, "More agrarian reformers?"
"Maybe."
"I'm out of ammo."
"So am I." I sighed. "We'll just have to get mem to the conference table
somehow. After all, violence never solves anything."
Gwen made an unladylike comment and added, "What about that gun you took
away from Sir Galahad?"
"Oh. Hon, I haven't even looked at it. Hand me the stupid hat."
"You're not stupid, Richard, just spiritual. Take a look."
I drew that confiscated side arm from my suit belt, examined it. Then I
touched helmets again. "Honey, you're not going to believe this. It's not
loaded."
"Huh!"
"Indeed 'Huh
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