Project Gutenberg's The Worlds of Joe Shannon, by Frank M. Robinson
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 Worlds of Joe Shannon
Author: Frank M. Robinson
Illustrator: Paul Orban
Release Date: June 4, 2010 [EBook #32680]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WORLDS OF JOE SHANNON ***
Produced by Greg Weeks and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction March
1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the
U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
_Strumming a harp while floating on a white cloud might be Paradise
for some people, but it would bore others stiff. Given an unlimited
chance to choose your ideal world, what would you specify--palaces
or log cabins?_
THE WORLDS
of Joe Shannon
By Frank M. Robinson
Illustrated by Paul Orban
I'll take beer, son, and thanks again for the offer. As you can see,
I'm kinda down on my luck. I know what you're thinking, but I'm not
really on the bum. I usually make out all right--nothing fancy, mind
you, but it's a living. Odd jobs in the winter and spring, follow the
harvests in the summer and fall. Things are slack right now.
You? Electronics, huh? Used to know a fellow in electronics....
His name was Joe Shannon, used to work for Stellar Electric up in
Fremont. Young fellow, not more'n twenty-five or so. Rail thin, wispy
hair, serious look--you know, the one suit, absent-minded type. Joe
was a brain. A triple-A, gold-plated, genuine genius. Had a wife named
Marge. Not beautiful but pretty and a nice figure and a cook you never
saw the likes of. Like I say, she was married to Joe but Joe was
married to his work and after you'd been around a while, you could
tell there was friction.
But that ain't the beginning.
I suppose I'm partly responsible because it started when I was over
for dinner one night. I had been working in the garden and doing odd
jobs around the house that afternoon and I finagled it so I was
invited for s
|