FOR US THE LIVING BY ROBERT A. HEINLEIN

Perry slapped his thigh. “Edison was working on that when he died.”

“Too bad he didn’t perfect it. We’ve had it only about ten years. See here, Perry, want to try the controls?”

“Yes indeed. Wait a minute though. How do I change altitude when I’m in ‘plane’ combination. ”

“You can get as much as ten degrees dive or climb by changing this setting. It rotates the car about the horizontal gyro axis. You can use that when hovering with the rotor to keep from drifting in the wind, provided the wind isn’t more than seventy-five kilometers.”

“In that case you could maneuver by rotor if you wanted to, couldn’t you.”

“Yes, but it’s slow of course. Do you know what all your instruments mean?”

“You keep an eye on the instruments. I’ll fly by ear for a while.” Perry took the car up a couple of thousand feet and cautiously put her through her paces. Presently when he had the feel of the controls he undertook to see what it would do. He soared and dropped, flew straight away and slewed her into sudden turns. He discovered that he could jamb her about one hundred and eighty degrees and stop her dead with the propeller. After this stunt Diana touched his arm:

“Perry, if you knock off the propeller, we’ll have to go home on the rotor.” He looked crestfallen.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought anything she could do, she could handle.”

“That is very nearly true. But my prop may be out of balance, you know. In any case the screw itself is a gyro and you were processing it on a rigid frame.”

He set the controls at neutral and turned to her. “Diana, if you are a dancer and no physicist, how do you know so much about mechanics?”

She looked surprised. “Any schoolgirl knows that much.”

“I can see education has improved.” He returned to the controls and tried new stunts; stalling, changing combinations, maneuvering on the rotor. The flight brought them back near the canyon—’Diana’s canyon’ as Perry regarded it—and the waterfall caught Perry’s eye. He lowered away cautiously and eased the craft slowly over toward the veil of water until they hovered halfway down and a hundred feet from the falls. They both sat in silent contemplation for several minutes until a shift in the wind forced Perry to return to the controls. He rose out of the canyon and settled down in level flight. Then he spoke. His voice was low and fervent. “Boy, but that fall is something!” He turned to Diana. “It’s nearly as beautiful as you are, Dian’.” She looked up and met his eyes for a moment, then dropped her lids, without replying. They were flying west. Presently Diana spoke.

“Where are we going, Perry?”

“I hadn’t thought about it. Where would you suggest?”

“Would you like to see San Francisco?”

“Fine!”

“Then let me set the course.”

“I can do it. I know this country.” He located the South Fork of the American River and followed it by eye until it joined the Sacramento River. Presently Diana got up and went to the rear of the car. When they were approaching Sacramento she announced lunch. “Can’t do,” answered Perry. “I’m coming into traffic.” She peered over his shoulder.

“I’ll set the robot to circle Sacramento and pick up the San Francisco beam. You mustn’t fly in traffic until you have qualified in the rules. Now come to lunch.”

Hot soup. Stuffed eggs and celery. Oatmeal cookies and grapes. Cold milk. When it was inside Perry felt no desire to move. He lay on his stomach with his head over the edge of the lazy bench and watched the ground slip by the deck port. Diana regarded him lazily. Presently the ground changed to water.

“Coming into San Francisco!” he cried, jumped to his feet and seated himself in the bow.

“Don’t touch the controls, Perry,” Diana cautioned. “They are on full automatic.” Perry didn’t answer for they were slicing across the bay bridge.

“Dian’, is that the same bridge?”

“I believe so.”

Perry looked proud. “They had engineers in my day, too.”

“Indeed they did.”

“Why, there is the Ferry Building. Don’t tell me that has stood all these years.”