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Mr. and Mr Saturday Night By ROBERT F. YOUNG We doubt if the real television people will ever go as far as the fictional ones in this story. But if they do—Wow! The Altar GARY watched the telem-pathy tech make the final adjustments on the portable transmitter. The steel-encased machine, with its crystalline absorber hovering over it like a disembodied eye, made the room seem cramped, and Gary couldn't help wondering how the small apartment could pos- sibly accommodate all the guests who would be coming to visit the following night, even though he knew that the guests wouldn't be there physically—that the apartment, in a telempathic sense, was large enough to accommodate the w hole world. Judy was watching the tech, too. Her hazel eyes were still wide from the shock of learning, that the TE Programs De-partment had named her and Gary as the next "Mr. and Mrs. Saturday Night." It was hard to believe, Gary con-ceded, especially when you considered the increasing num-ber of newly married couples daily matriculating from the adolescence academies and the corresponding increase in the eligibility list. The tech was tall and cap-able, and his |
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