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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/26205-8.txt b/26205-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..df604c5 --- /dev/null +++ b/26205-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1956 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Next Door, Next World, by Robert Donald Locke + +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: Next Door, Next World + +Author: Robert Donald Locke + +Illustrator: Douglas + +Release Date: August 6, 2008 [EBook #26205] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NEXT DOOR, NEXT WORLD *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Dave Lovelace, Stephen Blundell +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + NEXT + DOOR, + NEXT + WORLD + + By ROBERT + DONALD + LOCKE + + + _Almost any phenomenon can be + used--or act--for good or ill. + Mutation usually brings ill--but + it also brings greatness. Change + can go any direction._ + + + Illustrated by Douglas + + +Hungrily, the cradled vessel's great steel nose pointed up to the +distant stars. She was the _Cosmos XII_, newest and sleekest of the +Space Service's rapidly-expanding wing of interstellar scout ships, and +she was now ready for operational work. + +Major Lance Cooper, a big man with space-tanned features, stood in the +shadow of the control bunker and watched the swarm of ground crewmen +working at last-minute speed atop the loading tower. Inside him burned a +hunger, too. + +Hunger, and another emotion--pride. + +The pride swelled Lance's open-collared khaki shirt, as he envisioned +himself at the ship's controls within a few minutes. Finally, after long +years of study, sweat and dedication, he'd made it to the Big League. No +more jockeying those tubby old rocket-pots to Luna! From here on, he was +going to see, taste, feel what the universe was like way, way out--in +Deep Space. The _Cosmos XII_, like her earlier sisters, was designed to +plow through that shuddery nowhere the cookbooks identified as +"hyperspace." + +Lance's glance shifted upward, scanning the velvet backdrop of frosty +white points of light against which the slender, silverish, almost +wingless form stood framed. More stars than a man could visit in a +lifetime! And some already within grasp! + +His exultant feeling grew, and Lance kept his head tilted backward. +Alpha Centauri, the most popular target, was not visible at this +latitude; and Barnard's star, besides being far too faint, lay on the +other side of the sun. But there shone Sirius, just as bright as it had +glittered for the Greeks, and frosty Procyon, a little to the north. +Both orbs twinkled and beckoned, evoking strange and demanding dreams! + +One day, Man would be able to make landings. Teams of scientists +outfitted to the eyebrows and trained to cope with any environment or +emergency, would explore unknown jungles, _llanos_, steppes; tramp up +and down fertile vales and hills under blue-hot alien suns. Perhaps, +they might even contact native species boasting human intelligence: +mammalian hunters and fishers, city-building lizards, sky-probing +arachnids--who knew what? + +But now, of course, all that Headquarters permitted of flights was the +most furtive of reconnoitering. You hoisted your scout ship aloft under +high-gee, cleared the ecliptic, then swung out of normal space and +_jumped_. When you materialized in the new sector, you set your cameras +clicking, toggled all the other instruments into recording radiation, +gravity pressures, spectroscopy, at slam-bang speed. The very instant +your magnetic tapes got crammed to capacity, you pressed six dozen panic +buttons and scooted like a scared jackrabbit for Home, Sweet Home. + +Adventure? It wasn't even mentioned on the travel posters, yet. + +But, adventure would follow. + +Some day. + +Meanwhile, at the taxpayers' expense, you--the guardian of the +Peace--had enjoyed the billion-dollar thrill of viewing our Solar System +from light-years and light-years of distance. Or so the manual said, +right here on Insert Page 30-Dash-11-Dash-6. + +Lance thought about those veteran hype-pilots who'd already poked around +in the great black Cold out there. How was it they were always +compensating for their frustration? + +Now, he remembered. + +Having few tall tales to spellbind audiences with when they swooped back +down on Home Base after their missions, the hype-pilots got around it by +bragging up Terra itself, and how at least you could always depend upon +good old Earth to come up with something to relax this Warp-Weary +generation! + +"Something, for example, such as we now hold in our hand, brothers!" +Lance could hear them now. "Namely, one of these superbly-programmed +cocktails, as only Casey can turn out." + +(Casey was the Officers Club barkeep and much-beribboned mixologist.) + +"A real 'Casey Special'--look at its pristine beauty! What better +consolation can a man ask, for not having gotten to land at the apogee +point of his orbit?" + +"Besides"--this usually came out after two or three more +tongue-loosening toasts had been quaffed to the beasts of +Headquarters--"what's so blasted special about landing on some +God-forsaken rock _out there_? + +"Hell's bells! Earth is a planet too, isn't it? And when you've been +cooped up in a parsec-gobbling pot for a very, very long two weeks, any +planet looming in your viewscope cries to be set down upon. Your own +prosaic hunk of mud is good as any!" + + * * * * * + +Lance Cooper's rambling thoughts broke off their aimless tracking to +swing one hundred and eighty degrees in midspace and dart right back to +Earth. + +Here at this very moment--and less than a hundred yards away--came +Terra's foremost attraction for him. His hammering heartbeat would have +placed him on the "grounded" list immediately, had there been a medico +with a stethoscope hanging about to detect it. + +The attraction's name was Carolyn Sagen, and she was hurrying directly +across the concrete apron. + +Even under the incandescent work-lamps of the crew scrambling up and +down the ladders, she looked as fetching as a video starlet making her +first personal-appearance tour of the nation. Only the fact she was +Colonel "Hard-Head" Sagen's family pride and joy kept the helmeted and +half-puckered up techs on the rungs from whistling themselves dry in +their enthusiasm. + +Now, she had completely bypassed the work area. Here, the lighting did +not reach and the paler illumination of starshine took over. It seemed +to render the girl's soft blond hair and her full warm lips more +intimately something belonging to Lance Cooper alone--and he liked that. +He saw that she had turned up the collar of her tan coat against the +night wind. + +While still a step or two distant from him, Carolyn halted. Her +worshiping eyes rested fully upon the big pilot. Lance thought he +detected a troubled expression. + +Then, the girl managed a tight smile that conveyed her outward +resignment to all Man's absurd aspirations to own the galaxy: + +"Don't worry about 'Security,' Lance. Dad wrote me out an O.K. to +skitter up this close to the Launching Area. You know"--she gestured +self-consciously--"big crucial moment ... lovers' farewell ... I pulled +all the stops, but it worked." + +"Matter of fact," she added, in an obvious attempt at facetiousness, +"Dad opined he'd have walloped the daylights out of me, if I hadn't put +up a struggle to get near my man." + +Then suddenly, she was not at all brave, anymore. + +Suddenly, she had burrowed into his arms. "Oh Lance, had there been no +other way, I'd have clawed right through fence and revetments to get to +you! Men, men! Just because something's _out there_, as you say ... why +is it so important to build ships and go out and look at it?" Her +fingers dug into Lance's shoulders. "Women are saner ... but maybe +that's why men need us." The grip of her fingers shifted, tightened. +"Kiss me, you big baboon." + +Lance kissed her. A tender kiss, yet gusty enough that he lifted her +from the ground and her high-heeled shoes kicked in free fall. + +The pilot found his girl's breath warm, loving. Yet her cheeks seemed +colder than even the crisp air should account for. And her body was +trembling. + +He planted a second kiss, then set her down. + +"Hey! This is no way for a Space Service brat to carry on. Why, you're +just about to--" + +"To cry, Lance? No, I wasn't. It's just that ... you'll be gone so +long." + +He punched her playfully. "Two measly weeks out, two weeks to astrogate +her back home. And once I've got my feet wet at it, it'll be like +shooting ducks in an alley." + +Carolyn reached out, brushed a windswept tuft of hair from above the +rock-steady eyes that looked at her. + +"I know, Lance. I even realize that just ten years ago, women had to put +up with separations from their sweethearts or husbands that lasted +months. When the old pioneer ships used to limp back and forth to Mars +and Venus. But I'm different, I guess. Weak, maybe. Or just plain +scared--" + +This didn't sound like the blithe-spirited girl he'd pursued for a year, +then wooed and subdued. Lance studied her, then said slowly: "You're +scared. About what? My first flight?" + +Carolyn's head bobbed timidly. + +Lance flashed a reassuring grin. "Everything has to be a brand-new +experience, at some time or other. Me, I prefer to look at hype-flight +from the point of view of the service. A routine thing. Just takes +training. Otherwise," and he shrugged, "it's no more a risk than hauling +groceries upstairs to some weather satellite." + +"Is it, Lance? When one or two ships out of every ten never make it back +at all. Just disappear ... somewhere ... while the others--" + +"One out of thirty or forty, you mean. So hyperspace is a little +tricky." + +"And there's always pilot error to blame, too, I suppose?" + +"Now that you mention it." + +"Only my man is immune from everything?" + +Lance smiled, a little wryly. "Any pilot can make boo-boos, Carolyn. I'm +determined to try awfully hard not to." He added a slight qualification +to his statement. "I've always been pretty lucky up to now, at not +getting lost." + +"I thought the guidance systems and the autopilot computers took care of +all the astrogation corrections?" + +"On a theoretically perfect flight, yes. It's equally true, however, +that hyperspace's geometry doesn't always resemble the sort of lines and +angles you find in our own universe--" + + * * * * * + +Lance abruptly stopped, realizing he was quoting text; his mind groped +for a better way to explain. But Carolyn plunged in first: + +"You see, there do sometimes develop special situations." + +"Sure, sometimes." An exasperation crept into Lance Cooper's voice, +despite his effort to keep it out. Hell, he was just a pilot; not a +rated mathematician. He'd fly hyperspace by the seat of his pants, if he +had to. + +"Lance," said Carolyn. + +"Yes?" + +"You feel it too, don't you?" + +"Feel what?" + +"That there is danger involved. That something dreadfully, dreadfully +wrong _can_ happen to you while you're out there. No matter what the +eggheads say about it." A paroxysm of sobs suddenly racked the girl's +slender body. "Oh, darling, don't go!" + +"Honey, honey!" Lance patted her thin shoulders. + +"I love you so much." + +"Love you, too, Carolyn. You know that." + +"We shouldn't have postponed the wedding. It was wrong to set the date +back." + +Lance shook his head. "Sorry. I couldn't see it any other way." + +He hugged the girl to him; she seemed more desperately frightened than +he had realized. And again, as always when it came to comforting +somebody, he felt as awkward and clumsy as some big lumbering repair-tug +out in space--say--trying to patch a small trim patrol craft. + +But especially, he felt helpless in the presence of this frail, +clinging, lovely piece of femininity he wanted so dearly. Nevertheless +he could keep on trying--blundering though his words and gestures might +be. + +"Carolyn, you think I wanted to chance making you a widow twenty-four +hours after you became a bride?" Lance took a deep breath. "So I did +maintain the percentage wasn't great. Still, it does exist. I'm aware of +that. I just don't let it concern me. But you, Carolyn--don't you see, +hon? Lance Cooper couldn't let anything bad happen to his best girl." + +"I'm trying to understand," said Carolyn. + +Lance's blunt, serious face peered into hers. "Tell you what I will +promise to do." + +Hope cleared away some of the mistiness in Carolyn's eyes. She looked up +at him. "What, Lance?" + +"Once I've knocked off my shell-back trip through the hype, we'll stage +the fanciest wedding this old space base ever goggled its eyes over. +I'll even see to it, the chaplain samples the spiked punch. And you +remember what a raconteur the padre proved to be when Light-Colonel +Galache got spliced?" + +Carolyn Sagen managed a wan smile. + +Lance revved his pep-talk up a few hundred r.p.m. "After all, think of +it this way. Suppose I hadn't beat my brains out to get into +hype-training? I'd never have wound up at this base. You and me would +never have met. I'd never have fallen for you like a ton of +space-ballast." + +"Oh, I know you're right," said Carolyn, clinging more tightly than ever +to Lance's solid frame. "You're always right, just like the Space +Service is always right. But I have a woman's intuition. And I ... I +sense--" + +Unable to finish, she released her grasp and once more withdrew into +herself. + + * * * * * + +Lance's big muscular hand reached out, tilted the girl's chin upward. +Her face was tear-stained for sure, now. + +"Honey, this won't ever do." + +"I can't help it." + +"You're torturing yourself with useless premonitions." Lance wiped the +briny shine from the girl's cheeks as he talked, his own voice getting +hoarser. "Carolyn, I love you so much that I ... well, you know I happen +to hunger for you more than I do that Christmas tree on my control deck. +But I just couldn't give up a chance to solo out to the stars. I +couldn't, baby. I'd probably be court-martialed, anyhow," he added. + +"No, Lance. They wouldn't do that. Not unless you actually got into +space, then turned back. I asked Major Carmody." + +"Carolyn! You didn't?" + +The girl nodded, affirming the truth of what she said. "Lance, I had to. +T-there are some things I know about that you don't." A note of sudden +urgency now tinged her voice. "Strange unfathomable things. Many of the +other pilots who've come back have not been right. I think it has +something to do with their having been outside of normal space--" + +He stared at her. "I just now realize you're trying to tell me +something." + +"Lance, I happened to overhear Dad telling Mother something one night. +Apparently, he'd been rolling and tossing in bed, couldn't sleep. And +Mother's looked after him so long, she just had to know what was wrong. +They went downstairs and she poured him a stiff drink. Then in return, +Dad poured out his troubled soul to her. And Lance--" + +"Yes, Carolyn?" + +"The most probable reason why some hype-pilots never quite make it back +to our world is that the men involved--" + +"The men? You mean, the pilots?" + +"No, the brass. They haven't told the pilots about the fissioning of +anything that gets into hyperspace--" + +Carolyn's breath gave out in a sudden gasp. Her eyes moved away alarmed, +and Lance's own glance turned simultaneously. He saw Colonel "Hard-Head" +Sagen and two other officers coming across the area. + +[Illustration] + +Time had run out on them. + +"Carolyn," Lance said, hurriedly. "I've gabbed with quite a few vets of +hyperspace. At the Club and in my training, both. Sure, a man feels like +he's been crammed into a concrete mixer when he's burning up light-years +in a hyper ship. But after a while, I'm told, even your brains get used +to being bounced around." Lance took the girl's hands and squeezed them +between his. "So let's not worry, huh?" + +Carolyn started to say something in rebuttal, but her father and his +aides were already upon them. + +Colonel Sagen was a tall thin man of erect military carriage. His +features were crisscrossed with radiation scars and his voice boomed out +like a military drum. Yet when one got to know him, he wasn't so gruff. +On the base, he commanded two thousand military personnel and half that +many scientists and techs: a tough job, and one that he was giving his +best. + +After returning Major Lance Cooper's brisk salute, the colonel unbent +and gave his prospective son-in-law a hardy handshake. + +"Lance, I hope you'll be able to keep more of a rein on this little +space-filly of mine, than I've been able to. She was determined to see +you off." + +"I was glad to see her, colonel." + +The colonel smiled. "Can't think of a man on this base I'd rather turn +Carolyn over to." + +"Thank you, sir," said Lance. + +"Been counting the minutes to take-off, I suppose?" + +"He's hardly had a chance to, Dad," Carolyn broke in. "What with me in +his hair!" + +One of the colonel's aides glanced at his watch, then opened up a brief +case and took out a sealed envelope. The colonel relieved him of it and +handed it to Lance. + +"Your flight orders, Lance. Got the preset tapes installed and checked?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Well, you should know your onions now, if you're ever going to. Best of +luck, son." + +"Thank you, colonel." + +Lance turned. "Good-by, Carolyn. Just four weeks now, like I said." + +"I'll be waiting." + +"First jump's always the hardest, I hear," spoke up the second aide, +cheerily. Like a great many other execs, the officer boasted no active +space rating, though he did wear the winged moons of an observer. + +But Lance and Carolyn were again quite busy, and did not hear. + + * * * * * + +Inside the shell of the _Cosmos XII_, Lance, sitting flat on his back +against gravity, looked up at the sweep hands on the control deck clocks +and hurried through his pre-jump check list. Tension mounted inside him. +He contacted the Operations people in the bunker over the radio net. +Colonel Sagen's voice came in clear: "Five minutes, Lance." + +"I am receiving. Area cleared?" + +Traffic broke into report: "Take-off will proceed on schedule." + +The function lights on the "tree" in front of Lance shone green. Gyros +were caged; the tapes were set to roll. Lance's big hands hovered +lightly near the manual over-rides. He was ready to fly, and the +autopilot lights were already winking out in count-down. But you never +could be sure until the last moment. + +What had Carolyn been trying to tell him? + +Before he could pursue the thought, he felt the pressure of the rising +ship take hold; gently at first as she cleared the ground; then heavier +and heavier, until his face felt like a rubber mask under the +acceleration and his heart commenced pounding. + +It didn't take long these days for any ship to build up a tremendous +velocity in space. Lance cleared the ecliptic by a hundred million +miles; then with the Solar System spread out flat below him, he opened +up his flight orders. His destination, he discovered, was Groombridge +34, a visual double star. Right ascension: zero hours, thirteen minutes. +Declination: forty-three and four-tenths degrees. Nearly twelve +light-years distant. + +Since the star's apparent location was nearly halfway up the sky from +the celestial equator, Lance could begin the jump any time and not worry +on his way about skewing too near the gravitational field of any +large-massed body in his own immediate vicinity. + +He permitted himself one brief glance at the blazing universe that hung +all about him: the bright fixed lights that were innumerable suns +against an eternal blackness, and the luminous dust in between that was +even farther-flung. Confusion and chaos seemed to dwell here; if a man +gazed too long, he could quietly go mad. But even more insane, he +anticipated, would be the thick, writhing nothingness of hyperspace. + +Lance Cooper made one final check of all the ship's operating +components; then crossed his fingers and cut in the hype-drive. + +Instantly, his teeth crashed together and clenched; his strapped-in body +was jerked back in its cushioned seat; sweat beaded his brow. A thousand +needles prickling his skin couldn't have been worse. He had been told +once that the switching-out from this known universe into an unknown one +would feel just like a ten-thousand volt jolt in an old-fashioned +electric chair; and now he could believe it. Every cell in his body had +begun tingling; his stomach pitched under a racking nausea; and an +involuntary trickle of saliva dripped from his mouth the moment he got +his jaws working again. + +But Lance fought the nausea, fought the sickness, and gradually as his +flesh accommodated to the change, he felt better. + +It was then that the most disturbing phenomenon of all took place. He +felt for a moment as if he had been split into two persons. No, four +persons, eight, sixteen, an infinity of other selves. They were all +beside him, in him and out of him. His eyes ached. He shut them. + +When he opened them again, everything was almost back to normal. The +other selves had vanished. Only the constant throbbing vibration of the +ship remained; yet it was a discomfort that had to be endured for four +solid straight weeks now. There was no other means known, by which a +man-made vessel could travel faster than light. + +Funny about that four weeks, too, thought Lance. All distances in +hyperspace were the same, no matter where you wished to go; it required +no more than fourteen days and no less, regardless of whether you jumped +one light-year or fifty. Lance had always understood there were +equations on file at HQ, which explained the paradox. But not being a +math expert, he had never missed not being allowed to see them. + +He flicked a switch and opened up his viewports again. The starry +universe had vanished. The _Cosmos XII_ was riding through a gray void. +Alone and-- + +No, it wasn't alone! + +Again, Lance's vision suffered a wrenching sickness. Out there in the +colorless vacuum, hundreds of replicas of the _Cosmos XII_ rode along +beside him, above him, below him, stretched out in all directions. + +There had been nothing in the manuals about this. + +Lance stared at the meaningless phenomenon for a long time despite the +fact it made his brain ill. At last, he decided it was harmless, +whatever was causing it. He shook his head slowly and closed the ports +down. He hoped Groombridge 34 would be less taxing. + + * * * * * + +The system was. + +After the ship reverted to normal space in the vicinity of Groombridge +34, Lance hovered about it exactly twelve hours, following all the +instructions in his manual to the letter. He started up the cameras and +other recording instruments. All went well, there were no incidents, no +vessels disturbed him; though had the two components of the binary been +at periastron, it would have simplified the work with the position +micrometer. If anything else of interest had been detected, it would +have to be deciphered from the film and tapes later. You can get as +close as four billion miles to an Earth-sized planet in space--and it'll +still show up fainter than a fourteenth magnitude star. + +Somewhere in the galaxy, Lance supposed, there must be other races +building spaceships and guiding them from sun to sun. But thus far, the +scout ships from Terra--for all their magnified caution--had never run +into signs of any. + +The old veteran hype-pilots had the best philosophy after all. Earth was +the choicest hunk of mud you were going to find. _Enjoy it, brethren._ + +Well, he would certainly live it up when he got back, Lance swore. He +would have his wedding; import Casey from the Club to spike the punch; +and, perhaps after he'd gotten in his required number of scout-missions, +he might even settle for a chair-borne exec's billet, himself. + +Exactly twenty-eight days and twelve hours from the time of his +departure from Earth, Lance Cooper was back home again. The _Cosmos XII_ +re-materialized out of hyperspace in the neighborhood of the Solar +System with its fuel tanks scarcely a third depleted, but its pilot a +drained man. Lance, truthfully, not only felt weary and torpid, but a +great deal disappointed. + +He contacted Traffic, asked for and got a landing trajectory. A few +hours later, he had coasted home and the trip was over. + +He scrambled down out of the ship, hungry for Carolyn. + +The base hadn't changed any in a month, that he could see. A couple of +new floodlights put in, perhaps. Some brass were emerging from the +control bunker. Colonel Sagen, several others. He recognized them all. +Two were SSP's--Space Service Police. + + * * * * * + +When the colonel got close, Lance tossed off a salute and an insouciant +grin: "Well, the Prodigal made it back home, sir. Hope that pessimistic +daughter of yours is stashed around somewhere. Otherwise--" + +"Otherwise, what?" returned the colonel, unsmiling. + +"Why I'm liable to go busting right through that fence," said Lance. +"And say, if anybody's worrying about the _Cosmos XII_, she flew like a +dream, colonel. Matter of fact, she--" + +Colonel Sagen's jaws snapped together. Wheeling, he barked at the two +SSP's: "Spacemen, arrest this officer! Immediately!" + +Lance couldn't believe his ears. + +"Hey, wait a minute!" he protested. "What have I done?" + +Nobody answered. Not at first. + +"Well?" Lance asked again, a little more uneasy this time. + +"I have no daughter, major," Hard-Head Sagen growled, standing with his +legs braced apart and his ramrod shoulders looking businesslike. "I +never have had." + +The space cops sprang forward. One drew a pistol, held it on the +returned pilot, while the other quickly moved behind Lance and pinioned +his arms back. + +"Is this a joke, colonel?" Lance demanded, struggling. "If it is, I +don't appreciate it. You know you've got a daughter, and I'm going to +marry her!" + +The colonel's jaws clamped tight; and he shook his head from side to +side, as if he were dealing with a person suddenly out of his mind. Then +he acted. + +"Put this man under close confinement," he ordered Lance's guards. +"Allow no visitors of any kind." The colonel's tone was harsh and +worried. "I've got to buck this matter to HQ. We can't have it blow up +right now, God knows." + +The space police nudged Lance. "All right, major. Let's go." + +Lance's anger seethed to a boil. Hunching his shoulders, he rammed back +against the guard holding him, sending him tumbling. What was inside his +mind to do if he managed an escape, he couldn't have told. He only knew +he had to get away. The colonel had flipped. + +And where, by the way, was Carolyn? It seemed impossible she could be in +on it, too. + +He stood free for a moment, watching warily. + +"Hold him!" shouted Colonel Sagen. "Don't let him run loose." + +"We got gas pills, colonel," suggested the space cop Lance had bowled +over. The man was rising to his feet. + +"Use them." + +Lance started to run. Over his shoulder, he saw the guard reach inside a +small pocket in his webbed pistol belt. The man gestured to the others +to duck back out of harm's way. Then, his throwing arm reared back and +sent a pellet sailing in a high arc. It landed at Lance's feet and burst +instantly. Yellowish gas billowed out. Its acrid fumes penetrated +Lance's throat and nostrils. He began coughing. Then, all the fight +suddenly ebbed from him. His knees buckled. He was stumbling, falling. +The sky reeled. + +And very indistinctly, from far away, came the colonel's voice, barking: +"Put him in the brig until he recovers. I repeat, let nobody see him. +And another thing--I declare everything that's happened here today +classified information. If a single word leaks out, I'll have every +man-jack among you placed in solitary and held for court-martial." + +Then, Lance knew nothing more. + + * * * * * + +When at last he recovered consciousness and was able to sit up in a kind +of groggy stupor, Lance found himself, for the first time in fifteen +service-devoted years, on the inside of a guardhouse looking out. + +With sardonic melancholy, he recalled times on his O.D. and O.G. tours +when he had inspected various prison areas, peered into the cells, and +often felt mildly sorry for some poor spaceman doing time for some minor +infraction. There had never been very many offenders. Discipline on +space bases was not a pressing problem: the corps was an elite branch +and intransigent candidates were weeded out quick. + +Well, now he was a prisoner, himself. He, Lance Cooper, Major, Space +Service, stood behind bars. And no matter how hard his face pressed +against those bars, he could only see as far as the corridor extended in +either direction. + +It wasn't far enough. + +Nor would anybody talk to him. He couldn't even get the time of day. + +Not since his probation as a plebe, had he consorted with such a bunch +of "hush-mouths." Had he no rights as a commissioned officer and a world +citizen? He still didn't know why he was incarcerated, or what +regulation he had broken. + +But that wasn't his most nagging worry. + +What preyed on his mind most was Carolyn. + +_Where was she?_ + +_Where? Where? WHERE?_ + +He could have lowered his head and pounded it to a pulp against the +wall, in his rage and frustration at being confined. But banging his +brains out wouldn't help. Besides, he was going to stand deeply in need +of his gray matter, if he hoped to get out of this one. + +At evening time, a guardhouse trusty brought him his supper on a tray. +Also, the man tossed him half a pack of cigarettes when Lance sought to +bum just one. But when the pilot started pitching questions back, the +trusty looked scared and unhappy and quickly limped away. + +The night dragged on, as unending seemingly as one of Luna's two-week +darkouts. Lance smoked, paced the cell from wall to wall, occasionally +plopped down on his cot and went over everything that had happened, +trying to find some pattern to it. + +But there was no pattern. + +Next morning, he splashed up and shaved beard away from a tired, +red-eyed face in the mirror. Then, he waited. No one came. + +Finally, at noon a new officer checked in for duty at the guardhouse. +Lance recognized him as a young ordinance captain he'd met before. He +called out to the man. The officer, striding down the hallway, wheeled +at the sound of his name and came back to the cell. His eyes bugged +slightly, when he saw Lance: "Holy smoke, major! What've they got you in +for?" + +"Search me." Lance was overjoyed to find someone, at last, who didn't +dummy up. "I thought maybe you might have a notion." + +"I just came on duty. But if there's a charge sheet lying around, I +might dig up something from it." + +"Would you try?" + +The captain held up two fingers and grinned. "No sweat." + + * * * * * + +Lance waited some more. + +The captain did not come back, however, until several hours later. After +Lance's evening meal, in fact. His face bore a puzzled frown. + +Lance stood at his cell door, gripping the bars. "Well?" + +"I checked. Seems the brass are holding you for observation until some +headshrinker gets in from HQ. A specialist in hyperspace medicine." + +"Then, how come I'm not in a regular hospital? Why the jailhouse?" + +"Beats me, major. I can tell you this, though. You're not the first +hype-pilot who's been dragged in here screaming." + +"But I wasn't screaming! I was perfectly calm and collected, when I +climbed down out of my ship. All I did was ask about Carolyn." + +"About who?" + +"Carolyn Sagen. Old Hard-Head's daughter." Lance felt a sinking feeling. +He stopped, cocked a wary eye at the other officer. "Don't look at me +that way, man." + +The captain had been staring hard at Lance. Now, he began shaking his +head back and forth, slowly and sadly. + +"What's that supposed to mean?" Lance asked. + +"It means Colonel Sagen doesn't have a daughter." + +Lance snorted. "Don't tell me that. I'm engaged to her." + +"Sorry, major. I've been around the colonel and his wife since I was a +kid. He got me the appointment to the Academy. They've never had any +children of their own." + +"Why, you--" Lance reached through the bars and grabbed the captain by +his shirt collar, jerking him against the bars. "It's a lie! A +conspiracy! Maybe you think I'm nuts. But I'm not!" He commenced +pummeling the captain with his free fist. Then he thought of something +better. He snatched the captain's gun from his holster and leveled it. + +[Illustration] + +"I'm getting out of here," Lance announced. "Open up this door--or take +the consequences!" + +The captain, his face ashy white, submitted and unlocked the cell door. +Lance stepped out, got behind the officer, and prodded him into the +cell. Tearing a sheet into strips, he tied the man to the cot and gagged +him. It took a very short time. + +Then, he softly padded down the hallway. He caught the sergeant of the +guard napping in his chair. In a moment, the sergeant, too, was trussed +up, gagged, and whisked into a spare cell. Lance then tucked the +captain's pistol inside his shirt and ventured outside. + +It was a moonlit night. A patrol jeep was parked on the drive, begging +to be commandeered. Lance hopped in. There was something he had to find +out for himself, and only one way to do it: Go to the place where they +kept the answers. + +Wheeling the jeep along the military street fast as he dared, Lance +headed for the base housing area. Colonel Sagen's trim two-story brick +residence was where he hoped to pay a call. He knew the route by heart. +He'd been a guest there often enough. + +The colonel's driveway was empty of cars, he was happy to notice, when +he reached the house. He parked, sprinted up to the porch, and knocked +on the door. + +Presently, footsteps sounded inside and the door opened a few inches. +But it was not Carolyn whom Lance saw peeping out at him. It was another +woman, older. He recognized Mrs. Sagen. + +Lance was blunt. "I've got to see Carolyn, and I haven't much time. +You'd better let me in." + +An apprehensive, almost shocked expression briefly flitted across the +face of Carolyn's mother. It was as if she had never set eyes on Lance +Cooper before. Even the gold oak leaves on his shoulders seemed to +reassure her but slightly. She kept the door chain in place between +them. + +"I'm sorry, major. I'm not sure that I understand you." + +"Don't malarky me, please. You know who I am and who I want. Carolyn, +your daughter." + +"Oh," said Mrs. Sagen. It was said in a way that revealed nothing. + +"Look," said Lance, impatiently. "You do have a daughter. I've dated +her. So, all right," he waved his hands, "she's been spirited away for +some reason. I still think I've got a right to know why." + +"Oh, my!" said Mrs. Sagen, and her hand flew to her face. "You must be +that scout-ship pilot who showed up yesterday. The one who--" + +"Yeh, the one everybody figures for psycho. But I'm not, Mrs. Sagen. You +know I'm not." Lance took a deep breath. "Can I come in? I just want +some facts. After all, this crazy farce can't go on forever." + +The colonel's wife still looked doubtful, but Lance Cooper had a way of +pressing a point hard when his interests were at stake. He began talking +rapidly and convincingly. + +He got in. + + * * * * * + +The light indoors was better. Lance's eyes squinted, as they adjusted +from the gloom of the porch. Somehow, Mrs. Sagen didn't look quite as he +remembered. Her hair was much darker now; he was sure of that. Maybe she +had dyed it. Yet her features were certainly harder and bonier. More +like a replica of her husband's. And her breath smelled alcoholic. Could +a mere month have made that much difference? + +The house had been refurnished too, Lance noticed. The living-room decor +was more severe and functional. And the pictures on the wall were +garish. Not Mrs. Sagen's type, at all. + +_Hey, wait a minute!_ he told himself; _speaking of pictures_--his +glance skipped to the far corner of the room. A triptych of photos of +Carolyn had always been on display on the mantelpiece. _They would prove +that--_ + +Lance's jaw dropped. + +The photos had been removed. + +"Can I get you anything?" Mrs. Sagen inquired. A little nervously, Lance +thought. "A cup of coffee?" + +"No, thanks. I'd rather hear about Carolyn." + +"Coffee won't take a minute. I was just making some fresh in the +kitchen." + +Lance shrugged. "Well, O.K., if you've already got it ready." + +Mrs. Sagen's mouth managed a fleeting smile; then she disappeared +through a swinging door. Lance sat down in a wrought-iron chair. Finding +it not comfortable, he sprang back to his feet and paced the floor. +There sure was something wrong about the colonel's house. Something very +oddly wrong. But he couldn't quite put his finger on it. + +Suddenly, his quickened hearing caught the faint murmur of a human +voice. Was it Carolyn? The talk seemed to be issuing from the +kitchen--where her mother had gone. Lance tiptoed across the room, +pushed the door slightly open. + +Mrs. Sagen was on the phone. Her voice was excited; she was obviously +straining to keep it at a low level. "I'm telling you, he's here! Right +in our living room. And he insists I know somebody named Carolyn ... +Yes, that's right. But do hurry ... Please. He's acting much odder than +the others did." + +Lance had eavesdropped enough. He turned away, glided rapidly out the +front door and into the night. + +Where should he go next? The jeep would serve to hustle him around the +base for a while--but eventually he would be chased down and recaptured. +And as for crashing any of the exit gates and thus attaining to greater +freedom, he knew they would all be barricaded and heavily manned by now. + +Lance was still burning over Mrs. Sagen's double-cross. Did he want +coffee? she had asked. _Coffee!_ his mind repeated, disgusted. What he +needed was something stronger. A good stiff drink. + +That was it! The Officers Club. Casey would be on duty at this hour. +Lance would ask him to mix him a double for old times' sake. Then, he'd +meekly surrender and quietly go crazy in his cell, until the +headshrinker came and confirmed it for real. + + * * * * * + +The pilot got back in the jeep and drove on. When he reached the Club, +he wheeled the vehicle around to a rear entrance where bushes made the +grounds shadier. Parking, he got out, strolled into the building as +sneakily as if he'd been an inspector-general paying a surprise call +from out of Space Service Headquarters. + +Few officers lounged about. Most were at tables and engrossed in their +own imbibing. Lance strode up to the bar, perched himself on a high +stool. Casey, whose hair was red as a Martian desert, was rinsing +glasses. He stopped at his task and came over, wiping the counter with a +wet towel. "What'll it be, major?" + +"One of your Specials, Casey, my friend." + +"Beg pardon?" + +"You know--one of your Casey Specials. Where you start off with half a +glass of Irish whisky, add a dash or two of absinthe, a drop of--" + +"I don't stock no absinthe, major." Casey's freckled face was abruptly +hostile. "You know that. It's against regulations." + +Lance fought down a tremor. Everybody was in on it. Everybody. He +compromised for a minute: "Give me a slug of Teacher's on the rocks, +then." + +Casey measured out the drink for him. + +Lance downed it. His hand gripped the edge of the bar. "Casey, do you +know me?" + +He watched Casey study him. The thick reddish eyebrows knit. "It's a +pretty big base, major. Lots of faces. Sometimes, I kind of forget the +names." + +Lance's blood pressure gave a spurt. "I'm Major Lance Cooper! Hell, +you've rung up my chits often enough!" + +And his mind added: _How could you forget?_ + +"Major." Casey's eyes narrowed, while the uneasy suspicion in them grew. +"We don't have no chit system at this club." + +Lance's head felt like it would explode. He could take no more. + +"You're lying!" he shouted. His big hands reached over the mahogany +counter and shook the bartender like a squawk-box that had refused to +function properly. "Tell me you're lying in your teeth. If you don't, +I'll push them down your throat--" + +Suddenly, Lance sensed people behind him. A firm hand clamped down +heavily on his shoulder. + +The pilot stretched his neck around. What now? His hands did not relax +their murderous grip on his victim. + +The arresting party had entered the club quietly. Now, they were ganged +up around him: Colonel Sagen, his two aides, a fourth man Lance +recognized as Major Carmody, the base legal officer--and a fifth man +too, who wore the insignia of the Space Surgeon-General's Department. A +psychiatrist. + +"Better come peacefully, major," rasped Colonel Sagen. "You've been +'cleared' for an explanation--and if you're smart, you'll listen to the +spiel and play ball." + +The way it was said made Lance feel he could trust the Old Man for that +long. Anyhow, what choice did he have? + +"It's about time," Lance sighed. He set Casey down, to the latter's +greatly exhaled relief. "Only how come all the suspense?" + +"It was very necessary," broke in Major Carmody. + +"Was it? Well, you had me about to crack--if that was your object. Now +then, would any of you mind easing my worries about Carolyn. She's O.K., +isn't she?" + +His glance shifted from one to the other. + +"Isn't she?" + +Nobody would reply--neither Colonel Sagen, nor any of the officers +bunched-up around him. + +Sweat suddenly broke out on Lance's brow. The chilly feeling went +through him that if and when an answer was provided him, he wasn't +particularly going to like it. + +Not in the slightest. + + * * * * * + +Shortly afterwards, Lance was driven across the base by his captors and +escorted into his commanding officer's private office. The two aides +were dismissed, but the psychiatrist-officer, who also wore eagles on +his shoulders, and Major Carmody remained. + +Colonel Sagen seated himself behind his desk. + +"Major," he began, clearing his throat, "you imagine me to have a +daughter. You're positive of it. You even visualize her so well, that +you remember something about how you were going to marry her." + +"You're not going to talk me out of anything on that score," Lance shot +back. + +"Perhaps, we don't intend to. Colonel Nordsen, here," Sagen indicated +the psychiatrist, "has flown in from HQ to chat with you. He can explain +the technical aspects of the phenomenon that has thrown you better than +I can. I'd advise you to listen to him. He's just what you need." + +"Just what I need? What else do you intend to do? Hypnotize me, so you +can erase all my past?" + +The colonel scowled. "Look here, major. You co-operate and learn to keep +your mouth shut, we may be able to restore you to duty. But if not ... +well, what happens then will be entirely up to Nordsen. It could mean a +padded cell. The development of hyperspace exploration has to go on, +whatever happens to you." + +"I'll tell you one thing to your face, colonel," Lance replied, hotly. +"I'm not off my rocker." + +"No one has maintained you were," broke in Colonel Nordsen. "But Colonel +Sagen had to throw a curtain around you fast." + +"Why?" + +Neither officer answered. + +Finally, Colonel Sagen said, "I think you'd better continue with him, +Colonel Nordsen." + +Nordsen was a youthful-looking man for his rank, yet prematurely +balding. He wore thick-shelled glasses. + +"Major Cooper," Nordsen began, "let's go back to when you put the +_Cosmos XII_ through its first jump through hyperspace. How well do you +recall your experience?" + +"I'll never forget it. You Earthbound kiwis should try it sometime." + +"Did you experience a feeling ... perhaps, rather uncanny ... that the +whole thing had happened to you before? What psychologists call the +sense of _déjà vu_?" + +"No, I don't think so." + +"Perhaps some other type of phenomenon was manifested? A feeling you'd +been split in half, maybe." + +"That did happen." + +"Describe it." + +"It was more than just being split in half. I felt like I was suddenly +hundreds of selves. I could see other replicas of 'me' all around." + +Nordsen nodded, thoughtfully. "That was what we call the 'Infinite +Fission' syndrome. All those other 'you's' were personality matrices of +yourself in alternate worlds. Did you notice anything else?" + +Lance nodded, grudgingly. + + * * * * * + +"What?" + +"Look, colonel. If I answer your questions, will you answer mine?" + +"Any reasonable ones, yes. That's what we're here for." + +"Well, there was the disturbing thing about the _Cosmos XII_, itself. I +saw images of the ship riding along beside me, out there in the hype. +Where nothing material could possibly exist. Where not even light could +reflect back, or any other wave propagation." Lance shook his head, +recalling the experience. "What could have caused a hallucination like +that?" + +"It was no hallucination, Lance. It was real and has happened before. We +can rest you easy on that point." + +Colonel Nordsen removed tobacco from a pouch, stuffed his pipe, lit up. +Bluish smoke formed a halo about him. + +"Lance, the Space Service has been sending ships through hyperspace for +nearly two years now. Only recently did anybody notice something was +seriously wrong with the pilots who came back. Up until then ... oh, a +pilot might act a little queer for a day or two. But who wouldn't, +cooped up alone in a steel projectile for four weeks? We thought very +little of it." + +"Uh huh," was Lance Cooper's only comment. + +Nordsen transferred his pipe to his hand. "But eventually, even the +Space Service gets around to putting two and two together on the +slipstick. The incidents kept piling up. A pilot comes back from Epsilon +Eridani, for example, and insists on giving everybody left-handed +salutes. Another has taken a scout ship to 61 Cygni. He insists at the +Officers Club that Colonel Sagen here has a nickname of 'Old Hard-Head'. +Nobody else on the base is aware of any such thing. Then, still another +pilot--" + +"Wait a minute!" Lance interrupted. "Hasn't he?" + +"Hasn't what? I don't follow you." + +"Colonel Sagen. Hasn't he got that nickname? I mean, it was a term of +respect and liking, of course. But--" + +"No," said Nordsen. + +"No?" Lance echoed, disbelieving. "Since when?" + +"Not since _ever_, major. Not on this particular track." + +"Colonel Nordsen, you're losing me." + +"Patience, please. I was about to tell you that still another pilot +lands on our base, and he wears a blue tie. Claims the Space Service has +always worn blue ties." + +"I take it back," said Lance. "I'm a pilot and all pilots are slowly +going nuts." Then, it occurred to him to evince more interest or they +might ship him back to the brig sooner than expected. "A blue tie, huh?" + +"And blue suede chukkas, to match," Colonel Sagen's hoarse voice broke +in. "Most unmilitary-looking uniform I ever saw on a space officer." + +Colonel Nordsen, the psychiatrist, set his pipe aside. "Gradually, we +began building up a file of such weird discrepancies. Another pilot +landed wearing a handle-bar mustache. He couldn't possibly have grown so +much lip-hair in a month. Yet, the man claimed he'd sported the mustache +for years; and that every officer in his squadron was decked out with +one, too." + + * * * * * + +"Tell me just one thing," Lance pleaded. His nerves were gradually +getting more on edge. "What has all this got to do with Carolyn Sagen? +Why is she being kept from me?" + +Nordsen's eyebrows met, evincing a little displeasure. "Don't you get +the drift, major? I've been trying to accomplish two things at the same +time. Cushion a shock for you--and explain why what has happened has +happened. There is no Carolyn Sagen. The colonel and his wife have +always been childless." + +Lance got belligerent. "Say that again!" + +"There is no Carolyn Sagen here." + +"What d'you mean, when you say 'here'?" + +Nordsen took off his shell-rimmed glasses, wiped them, restored them to +his boyish face. "I would advise you to brace yourself. By 'here,' I +mean on this particular time-track." + +Lance stared at him. + +"Doesn't the word have any significance for you?" Nordsen asked. + +"Time-track? Sure, I've heard of the concept before. It's a theory that +parallel worlds branch off when ... hey!" Lance's tone rose to a shout. +"You're not trying to imply that ... that I'm on a diff--?" + +"That's right. We're trying to tell you that you have obviously landed +in another time-track. One that is parallel to--but just a slight bit +different from the one you formerly knew. To you, we seem to be the +same officers as in that world; but of course, we're not. It isn't the +same universe. Hyperspace is tricky stuff, as our men are finding out. +You've just got bounced around by one of the trickiest things connected +with it." + +Lance groaned. "Now, I'm told!" + +"I'm sorry. It's nothing new, only the information is classified +top-secret in our world; and evidently in yours, too. It has to be +withheld from hype-trainees, otherwise they might deliberately flunk +their course. We're running pilot classes here on our track, too. We +have to keep them filled." + +Lance was stunned. He hardly knew what he should say or do next. + +Finally, he put forth a faltering question: "Is there any way I can get +back to Home Base? _My_ home base?" + +All three officers in the room shook their heads in unison. + +"You might as well look for a pebble in the beach," said Nordsen. He +elucidated: "As a matter of fact, this _is_ Home Base for you. The +differences between one track and another are not usually too great; the +resemblances are many. Sometimes even, the returned pilot accommodates +himself to the new time-track without suspecting in the slightest what's +happened to him." + +"And in those cases, you seldom bother to enlighten him, I suppose." + +"Naturally not. Security frowns on it." + +"But in my case, you couldn't cover up." + +"Your case manifests a much more serious slippage. Your path, +evidently, warped to a track several million or billion worlds further +over than anybody from your world had previously experienced. +Consequently, your luck has really been unfortunate. You've materialized +out of hyperspace into a universe where someone you apparently knew +quite closely simply was never born." + +[Illustration] + +"But Carolyn did exist before ... where I was? I'm not dreaming." + +"No. Both our worlds are equally real." + + * * * * * + +Lance, though he felt the truth slowly and inexorably sink in, still +could not quite grasp all its implications. He turned his numbed face to +the other two officers in the room. Colonel Sagen and Major Carmody +inclined their heads. + +For one despairing moment, Lance felt almost like hurling himself +through the window. Then, he straightened up. His mouth compressed into +a thin line. "If I must face the facts, I must. But," his tone edged off +into irony, "it sure isn't easy. You'll have to give me time." + +Colonel Nordsen stood up, held out his hand. "I'm sorry, major, believe +me. This is a hard blow to take and I wouldn't care to be on the +receiving end, myself. But you'll adjust. If you like, I'll recommend +you for convalescent leave. You understand, of course," the psychiatrist +went on, "that we expect you to keep tight-lipped. Our hype-classes are +still too small. We need a lot of sharp men, and they have to be +volunteers. Right, Colonel Sagen?" + +"Right." + +Lance dropped the proffered hand. "I get it. Let the word get around how +hyperspace messes you up, all your bright young jets will bug out on it. +That's your main worry, isn't it? Not what happens to me." + +"Frankly, yes," Nordsen acknowledged, without blinking. "But the Space +Service is also concerned about individuals. Don't worry now, major. +We'll look after you." + +"Don't bother!" An uncontrolled bitterness crept into Lance's reply. +"Far as I'm concerned, the Space Service can go to hell. What reason +have I got to stay in it? You've conned me out of all that meant +anything in my life." + +Nobody said a word. + +Lance rose to his feet, unsteadily. His sardonic glance swept over them. +"I suppose it's back to the guardhouse for me now, huh? Well, I won't be +sorry to go. I'll find better company. And I refuse your bribe of +special leave-time." + +Colonel Nordsen seemed unaffected. "You're making a mistake," he said, +calmly. + +"Am I?" + +"Major, we're offering you a chance to get adjusted and assimilated. +Take it or leave it. We can hold you in the brig until you see reason. +But you're a good man. We need you." + +"For what? More flights through that hyperspace muck?" + +"If you can pass our mental stability tests, yes." + +"And if not?" + +"You'll be grounded." + +Lance made a sudden decision. + +"I want to go up right now." + +"What?" + + * * * * * + +"You heard me. I want to go up in the _Cosmos XII_ right now, tests or +no tests. Ground me--and I'll never have a chance again. Don't you think +I'm hep to that?" + +"We'll see that you're not grounded," broke in Colonel Sagen, from +behind his desk. + +But Lance didn't believe him. + +"Don't try to kid me, colonel," he snapped out. "You write me out flight +orders for the _Cosmos XII_, or I'll blab everything I know. You can't +hang me, you can't tear my tongue out--and I know I'll bust out of your +guardhouse one way or another! You'll see! And then, how will you fill +up your precious training classes? Then, how will you get new chumps to +pilot your ships to the stars? The stars! Ha, ha! That's the biggest +joke of all!" + +Colonel Sagen began to splutter. Lance, watching him carefully, decided +there wasn't much resemblance between the old boy and the fine Colonel +Sagen he'd known in his own world. Maybe it'd been having the softening +influence of normal family life and a growing daughter that had made old +Hard-Head human. + +"You'll never get away with this," Sagen warned. "We're three against +one." + +"Won't I?" Lance's hand darted inside his shirt. "Maybe this'll equalize +us." He brought out the pistol he'd taken off the captain in the +guardhouse. Sagen, Nordsen, and Carmody backed off from it. + +"The _Cosmos XII_ is still two-thirds fueled," Lance said. "And +well-stocked on provisions. Besides, I'm a light eater in hyperspace--as +who isn't? I intend to take that ship out again, and you're going to +help me, gentlemen." + +Lance flicked off the safety and waved the gun back and forth, to +demonstrate what he meant. + + * * * * * + +It worked. + +Lance got his ship, using Colonel Sagen as both shield and go-between +after he had first tied up the other two officers in a closet. He kept a +close watch, of course, for the SSP's and their gas pellets; but +apparently an alarm was not raised soon enough for the base police to +hurl into action. + +After having the colonel authorize a space clearance for him by +contacting Traffic directly over the ship's mike, Lance finally released +him. + +The colonel scooted down the ladder. Lance gave him time to clear the +pad, but little more; then he went to work pushing buttons on the manual +desk. The _Cosmos XII_ blasted loose from her moorings and soared aloft +into space. + +At five thousand miles above Earth's surface, Lance re-checked his +tapes. Groombridge 34 was the only possible destination the autopilot +could take him to. Somehow, he didn't mind taking one more look at the +double-star system. He cut into hyperspace as quickly as he dared; then +sat back and relaxed. That is, as much as any man could in hype. + +When he reached Groombridge 34, all Lance did was pop out into normal +space long enough to assure himself he had reached the proper checkpoint +for turning back. The tapes were in good order, and there had been no +hitches. Grunting, he threw in the switch-over and once more found +himself plowing through hyperspace. Only this time, he was homeward +bound. + +If he were lucky, just real lucky, he told himself, there might be a +Carolyn Sagen alive and waiting for him in whatever time-track he wound +up in this time. + +At last, he materialized again in the Solar System. Or _some_ Solar +System, anyhow. As far as he could tell, all the planets looked +unchanged. It was just four weeks to the day, since his escape from +World Two. This would be World Three. He had been gone eight weeks and +two days from World One. + +Lance cut the ecliptic at a different angle than before, and Terra was +farther along in her journey around Sol. He needed a new landing +trajectory. His eye swept his panel, to see if anything had been preset. +There was no green flashing on the deck, where there should have been +green. + +Oh, well. There could have been cruisers waiting in space, too, to pot +him with ship-to-ship missiles. He'd taken one chance, he could take +another. + +Lance opened a switch and called Base Traffic's frequency. "This is the +_Cosmos XII_, Major Lance Cooper piloting. Just broke out of hype. Can +you read me?" + +He repeated the message for several minutes. + +Finally, he got an answer. A startled voice whipped back at him through +crackling static: "_Cosmos XII_, this is Traffic. Who did you say you +were up there?" + + * * * * * + +Lance hardly knew whether he felt more like laughing or crying. He was +fairly close to home, anyhow. They did have space traffic here. And +being pretty much of an optimist, he also decided that it was a +time-track where he had been known. Only being so long overdue, he had +probably been given up for lost. + +On this premise, he could visualize all the consternation and excitement +now in progress downstairs; the personnel were likely falling all over +each other in the stampede to pass the word around. + +"I'm Major Lance Cooper," he announced over the mike. + +There was a long pause. + +"Repeat that, please." + +"This is Lance Cooper, Major, Space Service. I'm up here in the _Cosmos +XII_." + +"B-b-but you can't be." + +"Who says I can't. Say, what's the matter with you monkeys? I want to +come in." + +Another voice took over on the channel. "The lieutenant's right. You +actually do sound like Cooper, whoever you are!" + +Lance laughed openly. "I've lived with him all my life, why shouldn't I? +You think I'm a ghost?" + +"Well ... no. We know you're real. We're getting a blip from you. Only +thing is--" + +"Let's talk about it when I get down," Lance interrupted. "I need a +program fast. Get those G.S. computers working and read me an orbit." + +"W-will do." + +"And one more thing: Is Colonel Sagen around?" + +"Not today, major. He had to fly to Luna." + +"How about his daughter?" + +"Who?" + +_Oh, no!_ Lance felt his heart almost stop. Had the big try been for +nothing? He chanced a repeat. + +"His daughter. Carolyn Sagen." + +This time, he got results. + +"Oh! You mean Hard-Head's daughter. The one who ... say, wasn't she all +set to marry you?" + +"You bet your last commendation ribbon she was. And she's going to! +Hey!" Lance shouted. "Anything wrong with her? She's not sick or--" + +The voice of the first operator at Traffic came back on. "The captain +had to take off. No sir, major. She's not sick. We just don't know how +she's gonna take this, is all." + +"With bells on, Junior. Wedding bells! Get her out to meet me when I +land, will you? And snap it up on that trajectory." + +Again, the traffic crackled in Lance's ear. There seemed to be a great +deal of excitement going on down there. And then the great night rim of +Earth swung under him, blocking out further radio communication. + +Presently, a relayed beam from Luna came in. The Luna spaceport read him +a series of figures to punch into his autopilot. The new orbit would +edge him in close enough to Terra, that he could pick up an assist from +the G.A. system of his home base. + +Lance rubbed his hands together in his joy. He was cooking on all +burners, now. At last. + + * * * * * + +Six hours later, the _Cosmos XII_ settled down in her landing cradle. +Major Lance Cooper kicked open the air-lock door and began climbing down +to solid ground. + +It was just barely twilight. Ordinarily, there would have been long +purplish shadows at the far ends of the field; but now the entire space +base was flooded with lights. Were the beacons sweeping back and forth +just to welcome him? It hardly seemed possible. Yet, the apron itself, +was swarming with people. Here they came now! A whole mob racing towards +him, and the noise of their swelling shouts preceded them, rolling +forward like the breakers upon a shore. + +_Oh, oh! What was that in the far corner of the field?_ A big pile of +crumpled metal, already rusted and ready for the bulldozers. Some poor +devil had crashed his hype-ship. Lance wondered vaguely which of his +buddies it had been. Then he shut it out of his mind. + +A jeep swung out ahead of the advancing crowd and came speeding down +the concrete. Brakes squealed; rubber tires bit in hard, and the vehicle +plunged to a halt near him. Lance recognized Major Carmody in the +driver's seat. Or another Major Carmody. What difference did it make? +None, now that he was able to identify so very well the other figure in +the jeep--a slight blond figure in a trench coat seated next to Carmody. + +Carolyn! + +He saw her get out. He saw her commence walking towards him. But too +slowly, he thought. And he was too paralyzed to move. + +"Lance?" she called to him. "Is it you? Is it really you, darling?" + +The girl's step almost faltered. Major Carmody's hand reached out, +steadied her. + +Something was wrong again. But what? He could not guess. + +Lance came out of his paralysis. He began running towards her. + +And in a moment, they were in each other's arms without caring why or +how: Lance Cooper and the girl he loved. Kissing, hugging, unable to +believe for a moment in each other's reality. + +Then, Carolyn had to have breath and she drew apart for a moment. Then, +she kissed him again. And Lance, for the first time, listened and made +sense out of the welter of hysterical sobbing words that were pouring +forth: + +"Darling, darling, darling Lance! I cried so much, and now it's all +over. I don't care if you're not real. I love you, I love you! I don't +care if you are somebody from another time-track like Major Carmody +says! You're my Lance and you belong to me. It's you I love and want +now; no matter how shameless I sound!... Yes, darling, it's you I want, +not that poor broken thing we buried two months ago. Not the--" + +Lance's feeling of impending horror was great, but not so great that he +shrank from the question that now rose and beat and beat at his brain. +The overwhelming question that had to be asked. + +"Carolyn!" He held her so tight he thought for a moment he'd cracked her +ribs. His half-shook gaze penetrated her retreating eyes, forcing her to +meet him. + +"Carolyn! What do you mean--it's _me_ you want now, not that poor broken +thing you buried? Tell me. TELL ME!" + +"Don't you know, darling Lance? When you took off that night eight weeks +ago, that night I kissed you good-by, your ship ... oh don't you +comprehend?... Your ship, it--" + +"Tell me, Carolyn!" + +"Your ship, Lance, that's it over there--the wreckage of it! The _Cosmos +XII_ crashed on take-off that night, Lance. You were killed out-right. +We buried you two days later." + + +THE END + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Analog Science Fact and Science + Fiction_ April 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence + that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor + spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Next Door, Next World, by Robert Donald Locke + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NEXT DOOR, NEXT WORLD *** + +***** This file should be named 26205-8.txt or 26205-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/2/0/26205/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Dave Lovelace, Stephen Blundell +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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: Next Door, Next World + +Author: Robert Donald Locke + +Illustrator: Douglas + +Release Date: August 6, 2008 [EBook #26205] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NEXT DOOR, NEXT WORLD *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Dave Lovelace, Stephen Blundell +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figleft"> +<img src="images/001.png" width="166" height="550" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="bk2"><h1>NEXT<br /> +DOOR,<br /> +NEXT<br /> +WORLD</h1> + +<h2>By ROBERT<br /> +DONALD<br /> +LOCKE</h2> + +<div class="bk1"><p><b><i>Almost any phenomenon can be +used—or act—for good or ill. +Mutation usually brings ill—but +it also brings greatness. Change +can go any direction.</i></b></p> +<p class="rgt"><small><b>Illustrated by Douglas</b></small></p></div></div> + +<p class="fix"> </p> + +<div class="figcap"> +<img src="images/002.png" width="45" height="45" alt="H" title="" /> +</div><p class="firstp"><span class="dcap">ungrily</span>, the cradled +vessel's great steel nose +pointed up to the distant +stars. She was the +<i>Cosmos XII</i>, newest +and sleekest of the Space Service's +rapidly-expanding wing of interstellar +scout ships, and she was now +ready for operational work.</p> + +<p>Major Lance Cooper, a big man +with space-tanned features, stood in +the shadow of the control bunker +and watched the swarm of ground +crewmen working at last-minute +speed atop the loading tower. Inside +him burned a hunger, too.</p> + +<p>Hunger, and another emotion—pride.</p> + +<p>The pride swelled Lance's open-collared +khaki shirt, as he envisioned +himself at the ship's controls within +a few minutes. Finally, after long +years of study, sweat and dedication, +he'd made it to the Big League. No +more jockeying those tubby old rocket-pots +to Luna! From here on, he +was going to see, taste, feel what the +universe was like way, way out—in +Deep Space. The <i>Cosmos XII</i>, like +her earlier sisters, was designed to +plow through that shuddery nowhere +the cookbooks identified as "hyperspace."</p> + +<p>Lance's glance shifted upward, +scanning the velvet backdrop of +frosty white points of light against +which the slender, silverish, almost +wingless form stood framed. More +stars than a man could visit in a lifetime! +And some already within +grasp!</p> + +<p>His exultant feeling grew, and +Lance kept his head tilted backward. +Alpha Centauri, the most popular +target, was not visible at this latitude; +and Barnard's star, besides being far +too faint, lay on the other side of the +sun. But there shone Sirius, just as +bright as it had glittered for the +Greeks, and frosty Procyon, a little to +the north. Both orbs twinkled and +beckoned, evoking strange and demanding +dreams!</p> + +<p>One day, Man would be able to +make landings. Teams of scientists +outfitted to the eyebrows and trained +to cope with any environment or +emergency, would explore unknown +jungles, <i>llanos</i>, steppes; tramp up +and down fertile vales and hills under +blue-hot alien suns. Perhaps, they +might even contact native species +boasting human intelligence: mammalian +hunters and fishers, city-building +lizards, sky-probing arachnids—who +knew what?</p> + +<p>But now, of course, all that Headquarters +permitted of flights was the +most furtive of reconnoitering. You +hoisted your scout ship aloft under +high-gee, cleared the ecliptic, then +swung out of normal space and +<i>jumped</i>. When you materialized in +the new sector, you set your cameras +clicking, toggled all the other instruments +into recording radiation, gravity +pressures, spectroscopy, at slam-bang +speed. The very instant your +magnetic tapes got crammed to capacity, +you pressed six dozen panic +buttons and scooted like a scared +jackrabbit for Home, Sweet Home.</p> + +<p>Adventure? It wasn't even mentioned +on the travel posters, yet.</p> + +<p>But, adventure would follow.</p> + +<p>Some day.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, at the taxpayers' expense, +you—the guardian of the +Peace—had enjoyed the billion-dollar +thrill of viewing our Solar System +from light-years and light-years of +distance. Or so the manual said, right +here on Insert Page 30-Dash-11-Dash-6.</p> + +<p>Lance thought about those veteran +hype-pilots who'd already poked +around in the great black Cold out +there. How was it they were always +compensating for their frustration?</p> + +<p>Now, he remembered.</p> + +<p>Having few tall tales to spellbind +audiences with when they swooped +back down on Home Base after their +missions, the hype-pilots got around +it by bragging up Terra itself, and +how at least you could always depend +upon good old Earth to come up +with something to relax this Warp-Weary +generation!</p> + +<p>"Something, for example, such as +we now hold in our hand, brothers!" +Lance could hear them now. "Namely, +one of these superbly-programmed +cocktails, as only Casey can turn out."</p> + +<p>(Casey was the Officers Club barkeep +and much-beribboned mixologist.)</p> + +<p>"A real 'Casey Special'—look at its +pristine beauty! What better consolation +can a man ask, for not having +gotten to land at the apogee point of +his orbit?"</p> + +<p>"Besides"—this usually came out +after two or three more tongue-loosening +toasts had been quaffed to the +beasts of Headquarters—"what's so +blasted special about landing on some +God-forsaken rock <i>out there</i>?</p> + +<p>"Hell's bells! Earth is a planet too, +isn't it? And when you've been +cooped up in a parsec-gobbling pot +for a very, very long two weeks, any +planet looming in your viewscope +cries to be set down upon. Your own +prosaic hunk of mud is good as any!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Lance Cooper's rambling thoughts +broke off their aimless tracking to +swing one hundred and eighty degrees +in midspace and dart right +back to Earth.</p> + +<p>Here at this very moment—and +less than a hundred yards away—came +Terra's foremost attraction for +him. His hammering heartbeat +would have placed him on the +"grounded" list immediately, had +there been a medico with a stethoscope +hanging about to detect it.</p> + +<p>The attraction's name was Carolyn +Sagen, and she was hurrying directly +across the concrete apron.</p> + +<p>Even under the incandescent +work-lamps of the crew scrambling +up and down the ladders, she looked +as fetching as a video starlet making +her first personal-appearance tour of +the nation. Only the fact she was +Colonel "Hard-Head" Sagen's family +pride and joy kept the helmeted and +half-puckered up techs on the rungs +from whistling themselves dry in +their enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>Now, she had completely bypassed +the work area. Here, the lighting +did not reach and the paler illumination +of starshine took over. It +seemed to render the girl's soft blond +hair and her full warm lips more intimately +something belonging to +Lance Cooper alone—and he liked +that. He saw that she had turned up +the collar of her tan coat against the +night wind.</p> + +<p>While still a step or two distant +from him, Carolyn halted. Her worshiping +eyes rested fully upon the +big pilot. Lance thought he detected +a troubled expression.</p> + +<p>Then, the girl managed a tight +smile that conveyed her outward resignment +to all Man's absurd aspirations +to own the galaxy:</p> + +<p>"Don't worry about 'Security,' +Lance. Dad wrote me out an O.K. to +skitter up this close to the Launching +Area. You know"—she gestured self-consciously—"big +crucial moment ... lovers' +farewell ... I pulled +all the stops, but it worked."</p> + +<p>"Matter of fact," she added, in an +obvious attempt at facetiousness, +"Dad opined he'd have walloped the +daylights out of me, if I hadn't put +up a struggle to get near my man."</p> + +<p>Then suddenly, she was not at all +brave, anymore.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, she had burrowed into +his arms. "Oh Lance, had there been +no other way, I'd have clawed right +through fence and revetments to get +to you! Men, men! Just because +something's <i>out there</i>, as you say ... why +is it so important to build +ships and go out and look at it?" +Her fingers dug into Lance's shoulders. +"Women are saner ... but +maybe that's why men need us." The +grip of her fingers shifted, tightened. +"Kiss me, you big baboon."</p> + +<p>Lance kissed her. A tender kiss, yet +gusty enough that he lifted her from +the ground and her high-heeled shoes +kicked in free fall.</p> + +<p>The pilot found his girl's breath +warm, loving. Yet her cheeks +seemed colder than even the crisp +air should account for. And her body +was trembling.</p> + +<p>He planted a second kiss, then set +her down.</p> + +<p>"Hey! This is no way for a Space +Service brat to carry on. Why, you're +just about to—"</p> + +<p>"To cry, Lance? No, I wasn't. +It's just that ... you'll be gone so +long."</p> + +<p>He punched her playfully. "Two +measly weeks out, two weeks to astrogate +her back home. And once I've +got my feet wet at it, it'll be like +shooting ducks in an alley."</p> + +<p>Carolyn reached out, brushed a +windswept tuft of hair from above +the rock-steady eyes that looked at +her.</p> + +<p>"I know, Lance. I even realize that +just ten years ago, women had to put +up with separations from their sweethearts +or husbands that lasted months. +When the old pioneer ships used to +limp back and forth to Mars and +Venus. But I'm different, I guess. +Weak, maybe. Or just plain scared—"</p> + +<p>This didn't sound like the blithe-spirited +girl he'd pursued for a year, +then wooed and subdued. Lance studied +her, then said slowly: "You're +scared. About what? My first flight?"</p> + +<p>Carolyn's head bobbed timidly.</p> + +<p>Lance flashed a reassuring grin. +"Everything has to be a brand-new +experience, at some time or other. +Me, I prefer to look at hype-flight +from the point of view of the service. +A routine thing. Just takes training. +Otherwise," and he shrugged, "it's no +more a risk than hauling groceries +upstairs to some weather satellite."</p> + +<p>"Is it, Lance? When one or two +ships out of every ten never make it +back at all. Just disappear ... somewhere +... while the others—"</p> + +<p>"One out of thirty or forty, you +mean. So hyperspace is a little +tricky."</p> + +<p>"And there's always pilot error to +blame, too, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Now that you mention it."</p> + +<p>"Only my man is immune from +everything?"</p> + +<p>Lance smiled, a little wryly. "Any +pilot can make boo-boos, Carolyn. +I'm determined to try awfully hard +not to." He added a slight qualification +to his statement. "I've always +been pretty lucky up to now, at not +getting lost."</p> + +<p>"I thought the guidance systems +and the autopilot computers took +care of all the astrogation corrections?"</p> + +<p>"On a theoretically perfect flight, +yes. It's equally true, however, that +hyperspace's geometry doesn't always +resemble the sort of lines and angles +you find in our own universe—"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Lance abruptly stopped, realizing +he was quoting text; his mind groped +for a better way to explain. But Carolyn +plunged in first:</p> + +<p>"You see, there do sometimes develop +special situations."</p> + +<p>"Sure, sometimes." An exasperation +crept into Lance Cooper's voice, +despite his effort to keep it out. Hell, +he was just a pilot; not a rated mathematician. +He'd fly hyperspace by the +seat of his pants, if he had to.</p> + +<p>"Lance," said Carolyn.</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"You feel it too, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Feel what?"</p> + +<p>"That there is danger involved. +That something dreadfully, dreadfully +wrong <i>can</i> happen to you while +you're out there. No matter what the +eggheads say about it." A paroxysm of +sobs suddenly racked the girl's slender +body. "Oh, darling, don't go!"</p> + +<p>"Honey, honey!" Lance patted her +thin shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I love you so much."</p> + +<p>"Love you, too, Carolyn. You know +that."</p> + +<p>"We shouldn't have postponed the +wedding. It was wrong to set the date +back."</p> + +<p>Lance shook his head. "Sorry. I +couldn't see it any other way."</p> + +<p>He hugged the girl to him; she +seemed more desperately frightened +than he had realized. And again, as +always when it came to comforting +somebody, he felt as awkward and +clumsy as some big lumbering repair-tug +out in space—say—trying to +patch a small trim patrol craft.</p> + +<p>But especially, he felt helpless in +the presence of this frail, clinging, +lovely piece of femininity he wanted +so dearly. Nevertheless he could keep +on trying—blundering though his +words and gestures might be.</p> + +<p>"Carolyn, you think I wanted to +chance making you a widow twenty-four +hours after you became a bride?" +Lance took a deep breath. "So I did +maintain the percentage wasn't great. +Still, it does exist. I'm aware of that. +I just don't let it concern me. But +you, Carolyn—don't you see, hon? +Lance Cooper couldn't let anything +bad happen to his best girl."</p> + +<p>"I'm trying to understand," said +Carolyn.</p> + +<p>Lance's blunt, serious face peered +into hers. "Tell you what I will promise +to do."</p> + +<p>Hope cleared away some of the +mistiness in Carolyn's eyes. She +looked up at him. "What, Lance?"</p> + +<p>"Once I've knocked off my shell-back +trip through the hype, we'll stage +the fanciest wedding this old space +base ever goggled its eyes over. I'll +even see to it, the chaplain samples the +spiked punch. And you remember +what a raconteur the padre proved to +be when Light-Colonel Galache got +spliced?"</p> + +<p>Carolyn Sagen managed a wan +smile.</p> + +<p>Lance revved his pep-talk up a +few hundred r.p.m. "After all, think +of it this way. Suppose I hadn't beat +my brains out to get into hype-training? +I'd never have wound up at this +base. You and me would never have +met. I'd never have fallen for you +like a ton of space-ballast."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know you're right," said +Carolyn, clinging more tightly than +ever to Lance's solid frame. "You're +always right, just like the Space Service +is always right. But I have a woman's +intuition. And I ... I sense—"</p> + +<p>Unable to finish, she released her +grasp and once more withdrew into +herself.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Lance's big muscular hand reached +out, tilted the girl's chin upward. Her +face was tear-stained for sure, now.</p> + +<p>"Honey, this won't ever do."</p> + +<p>"I can't help it."</p> + +<p>"You're torturing yourself with +useless premonitions." Lance wiped +the briny shine from the girl's cheeks +as he talked, his own voice getting +hoarser. "Carolyn, I love you so much +that I ... well, you know I happen +to hunger for you more than I do that +Christmas tree on my control deck. +But I just couldn't give up a chance +to solo out to the stars. I couldn't, +baby. I'd probably be court-martialed, +anyhow," he added.</p> + +<p>"No, Lance. They wouldn't do +that. Not unless you actually got into +space, then turned back. I asked Major +Carmody."</p> + +<p>"Carolyn! You didn't?"</p> + +<p>The girl nodded, affirming the +truth of what she said. "Lance, I had +to. T-there are some things I know +about that you don't." A note of sudden +urgency now tinged her voice. +"Strange unfathomable things. Many +of the other pilots who've come back +have not been right. I think it has +something to do with their having +been outside of normal space—"</p> + +<p>He stared at her. "I just now realize +you're trying to tell me something."</p> + +<p>"Lance, I happened to overhear +Dad telling Mother something one +night. Apparently, he'd been rolling +and tossing in bed, couldn't sleep. +And Mother's looked after him so +long, she just had to know what was +wrong. They went downstairs and +she poured him a stiff drink. Then in +return, Dad poured out his troubled +soul to her. And Lance—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Carolyn?"</p> + +<p>"The most probable reason why +some hype-pilots never quite make it +back to our world is that the men +involved—"</p> + +<p>"The men? You mean, the pilots?"</p> + +<p>"No, the brass. They haven't told +the pilots about the fissioning of anything +that gets into hyperspace—"</p> + +<p>Carolyn's breath gave out in a +sudden gasp. Her eyes moved away +alarmed, and Lance's own glance +turned simultaneously. He saw Colonel +"Hard-Head" Sagen and two +other officers coming across the area.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/003.png" width="600" height="462" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Time had run out on them.</p> + +<p>"Carolyn," Lance said, hurriedly. +"I've gabbed with quite a few vets of +hyperspace. At the Club and in my +training, both. Sure, a man feels like +he's been crammed into a concrete +mixer when he's burning up light-years +in a hyper ship. But after a +while, I'm told, even your brains get +used to being bounced around." +Lance took the girl's hands and +squeezed them between his. "So let's +not worry, huh?"</p> + +<p>Carolyn started to say something +in rebuttal, but her father and his +aides were already upon them.</p> + +<p>Colonel Sagen was a tall thin man +of erect military carriage. His features +were crisscrossed with radiation +scars and his voice boomed out like a +military drum. Yet when one got to +know him, he wasn't so gruff. On the +base, he commanded two thousand +military personnel and half that +many scientists and techs: a tough +job, and one that he was giving his +best.</p> + +<p>After returning Major Lance +Cooper's brisk salute, the colonel unbent +and gave his prospective son-in-law +a hardy handshake.</p> + +<p>"Lance, I hope you'll be able to +keep more of a rein on this little +space-filly of mine, than I've been +able to. She was determined to see +you off."</p> + +<p>"I was glad to see her, colonel."</p> + +<p>The colonel smiled. "Can't think +of a man on this base I'd rather turn +Carolyn over to."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir," said Lance.</p> + +<p>"Been counting the minutes to +take-off, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"He's hardly had a chance to, Dad," +Carolyn broke in. "What with me in +his hair!"</p> + +<p>One of the colonel's aides glanced +at his watch, then opened up a brief +case and took out a sealed envelope. +The colonel relieved him of it and +handed it to Lance.</p> + +<p>"Your flight orders, Lance. Got the +preset tapes installed and checked?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, you should know your onions +now, if you're ever going to. Best +of luck, son."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, colonel."</p> + +<p>Lance turned. "Good-by, Carolyn. +Just four weeks now, like I said."</p> + +<p>"I'll be waiting."</p> + +<p>"First jump's always the hardest, I +hear," spoke up the second aide, +cheerily. Like a great many other execs, +the officer boasted no active space +rating, though he did wear the winged +moons of an observer.</p> + +<p>But Lance and Carolyn were again +quite busy, and did not hear.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Inside the shell of the <i>Cosmos XII</i>, +Lance, sitting flat on his back against +gravity, looked up at the sweep hands +on the control deck clocks and hurried +through his pre-jump check list. +Tension mounted inside him. He contacted +the Operations people in the +bunker over the radio net. Colonel +Sagen's voice came in clear: "Five +minutes, Lance."</p> + +<p>"I am receiving. Area cleared?"</p> + +<p>Traffic broke into report: "Take-off +will proceed on schedule."</p> + +<p>The function lights on the "tree" +in front of Lance shone green. Gyros +were caged; the tapes were set to roll. +Lance's big hands hovered lightly +near the manual over-rides. He was +ready to fly, and the autopilot lights +were already winking out in count-down. +But you never could be sure +until the last moment.</p> + +<p>What had Carolyn been trying to +tell him?</p> + +<p>Before he could pursue the +thought, he felt the pressure of the +rising ship take hold; gently at first +as she cleared the ground; then heavier +and heavier, until his face felt like +a rubber mask under the acceleration +and his heart commenced pounding.</p> + +<p>It didn't take long these days for +any ship to build up a tremendous +velocity in space. Lance cleared the +ecliptic by a hundred million miles; +then with the Solar System spread out +flat below him, he opened up his +flight orders. His destination, he discovered, +was Groombridge 34, a visual double star. +Right ascension: zero +hours, thirteen minutes. Declination: +forty-three and four-tenths degrees. +Nearly twelve light-years distant.</p> + +<p>Since the star's apparent location +was nearly halfway up the sky from +the celestial equator, Lance could begin +the jump any time and not worry +on his way about skewing too near +the gravitational field of any large-massed +body in his own immediate +vicinity.</p> + +<p>He permitted himself one brief +glance at the blazing universe that +hung all about him: the bright fixed +lights that were innumerable suns +against an eternal blackness, and the +luminous dust in between that was +even farther-flung. Confusion and +chaos seemed to dwell here; if a man +gazed too long, he could quietly go +mad. But even more insane, he anticipated, +would be the thick, writhing +nothingness of hyperspace.</p> + +<p>Lance Cooper made one final +check of all the ship's operating components; +then crossed his fingers and +cut in the hype-drive.</p> + +<p>Instantly, his teeth crashed together +and clenched; his strapped-in body +was jerked back in its cushioned seat; +sweat beaded his brow. A thousand +needles prickling his skin couldn't +have been worse. He had been told +once that the switching-out from this +known universe into an unknown +one would feel just like a ten-thousand +volt jolt in an old-fashioned +electric chair; and now he could believe +it. Every cell in his body had begun +tingling; his stomach pitched +under a racking nausea; and an involuntary +trickle of saliva dripped +from his mouth the moment he got +his jaws working again.</p> + +<p>But Lance fought the nausea, +fought the sickness, and gradually as +his flesh accommodated to the +change, he felt better.</p> + +<p>It was then that the most disturbing +phenomenon of all took place. +He felt for a moment as if he had +been split into two persons. No, four +persons, eight, sixteen, an infinity of +other selves. They were all beside +him, in him and out of him. His eyes +ached. He shut them.</p> + +<p>When he opened them again, everything +was almost back to normal. +The other selves had vanished. Only +the constant throbbing vibration of +the ship remained; yet it was a discomfort +that had to be endured for +four solid straight weeks now. There +was no other means known, by which +a man-made vessel could travel faster +than light.</p> + +<p>Funny about that four weeks, too, +thought Lance. All distances in hyperspace +were the same, no matter +where you wished to go; it required +no more than fourteen days and no +less, regardless of whether you +jumped one light-year or fifty. Lance +had always understood there were +equations on file at HQ, which explained +the paradox. But not being a +math expert, he had never missed not +being allowed to see them.</p> + +<p>He flicked a switch and opened up +his viewports again. The starry universe +had vanished. The <i>Cosmos XII</i> +was riding through a gray void. +Alone and—</p> + +<p>No, it wasn't alone!</p> + +<p>Again, Lance's vision suffered a +wrenching sickness. Out there in the +colorless vacuum, hundreds of replicas +of the <i>Cosmos XII</i> rode along beside +him, above him, below him, +stretched out in all directions.</p> + +<p>There had been nothing in the +manuals about this.</p> + +<p>Lance stared at the meaningless +phenomenon for a long time despite +the fact it made his brain ill. At last, +he decided it was harmless, whatever +was causing it. He shook his head +slowly and closed the ports down. He +hoped Groombridge 34 would be less +taxing.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The system was.</p> + +<p>After the ship reverted to normal +space in the vicinity of Groombridge +34, Lance hovered about it exactly +twelve hours, following all the instructions +in his manual to the letter. +He started up the cameras and other +recording instruments. All went well, +there were no incidents, no vessels +disturbed him; though had the two +components of the binary been at +periastron, it would have simplified +the work with the position micrometer. +If anything else of interest had +been detected, it would have to be +deciphered from the film and tapes +later. You can get as close as four billion +miles to an Earth-sized planet in +space—and it'll still show up fainter +than a fourteenth magnitude star.</p> + +<p>Somewhere in the galaxy, Lance +supposed, there must be other races +building spaceships and guiding +them from sun to sun. But thus far, +the scout ships from Terra—for all +their magnified caution—had never +run into signs of any.</p> + +<p>The old veteran hype-pilots had +the best philosophy after all. Earth +was the choicest hunk of mud you +were going to find. <i>Enjoy it, brethren.</i></p> + +<p>Well, he would certainly live it up +when he got back, Lance swore. He +would have his wedding; import +Casey from the Club to spike the +punch; and, perhaps after he'd gotten +in his required number of scout-missions, +he might even settle for a +chair-borne exec's billet, himself.</p> + +<p>Exactly twenty-eight days and +twelve hours from the time of his departure +from Earth, Lance Cooper +was back home again. The <i>Cosmos +XII</i> re-materialized out of hyperspace +in the neighborhood of the Solar +System with its fuel tanks scarcely +a third depleted, but its pilot a +drained man. Lance, truthfully, not +only felt weary and torpid, but a great +deal disappointed.</p> + +<p>He contacted Traffic, asked for and +got a landing trajectory. A few hours +later, he had coasted home and the +trip was over.</p> + +<p>He scrambled down out of the +ship, hungry for Carolyn.</p> + +<p>The base hadn't changed any in a +month, that he could see. A couple +of new floodlights put in, perhaps. +Some brass were emerging from the +control bunker. Colonel Sagen, several +others. He recognized them all. +Two were SSP's—Space Service Police.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>When the colonel got close, Lance +tossed off a salute and an insouciant +grin: "Well, the Prodigal made it +back home, sir. Hope that pessimistic +daughter of yours is stashed around +somewhere. Otherwise—"</p> + +<p>"Otherwise, what?" returned the +colonel, unsmiling.</p> + +<p>"Why I'm liable to go busting +right through that fence," said Lance. +"And say, if anybody's worrying +about the <i>Cosmos XII</i>, she flew like +a dream, colonel. Matter of fact, +she—"</p> + +<p>Colonel Sagen's jaws snapped together. +Wheeling, he barked at the +two SSP's: "Spacemen, arrest this officer! +Immediately!"</p> + +<p>Lance couldn't believe his ears.</p> + +<p>"Hey, wait a minute!" he protested. +"What have I done?"</p> + +<p>Nobody answered. Not at first.</p> + +<p>"Well?" Lance asked again, a little +more uneasy this time.</p> + +<p>"I have no daughter, major," Hard-Head +Sagen growled, standing with +his legs braced apart and his ramrod +shoulders looking businesslike. "I +never have had."</p> + +<p>The space cops sprang forward. +One drew a pistol, held it on the returned +pilot, while the other quickly +moved behind Lance and pinioned +his arms back.</p> + +<p>"Is this a joke, colonel?" Lance +demanded, struggling. "If it is, I +don't appreciate it. You know you've +got a daughter, and I'm going to marry +her!"</p> + +<p>The colonel's jaws clamped tight; +and he shook his head from side to +side, as if he were dealing with a person +suddenly out of his mind. Then +he acted.</p> + +<p>"Put this man under close confinement," +he ordered Lance's guards. +"Allow no visitors of any kind." The +colonel's tone was harsh and worried. +"I've got to buck this matter to HQ. +We can't have it blow up right now, +God knows."</p> + +<p>The space police nudged Lance. +"All right, major. Let's go."</p> + +<p>Lance's anger seethed to a boil. +Hunching his shoulders, he rammed +back against the guard holding him, +sending him tumbling. What was inside +his mind to do if he managed an +escape, he couldn't have told. He +only knew he had to get away. The +colonel had flipped.</p> + +<p>And where, by the way, was Carolyn? +It seemed impossible she +could be in on it, too.</p> + +<p>He stood free for a moment, +watching warily.</p> + +<p>"Hold him!" shouted Colonel Sagen. +"Don't let him run loose."</p> + +<p>"We got gas pills, colonel," suggested +the space cop Lance had +bowled over. The man was rising to +his feet.</p> + +<p>"Use them."</p> + +<p>Lance started to run. Over his +shoulder, he saw the guard reach inside +a small pocket in his webbed +pistol belt. The man gestured to the +others to duck back out of harm's way. +Then, his throwing arm reared back +and sent a pellet sailing in a high arc. +It landed at Lance's feet and burst +instantly. Yellowish gas billowed out. +Its acrid fumes penetrated Lance's +throat and nostrils. He began coughing. +Then, all the fight suddenly +ebbed from him. His knees buckled. +He was stumbling, falling. The sky +reeled.</p> + +<p>And very indistinctly, from far +away, came the colonel's voice, barking: +"Put him in the brig until he +recovers. I repeat, let nobody see +him. And another thing—I declare +everything that's happened here today +classified information. If a single +word leaks out, I'll have every man-jack +among you placed in solitary and +held for court-martial."</p> + +<p>Then, Lance knew nothing more.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>When at last he recovered consciousness +and was able to sit up in +a kind of groggy stupor, Lance found +himself, for the first time in fifteen +service-devoted years, on the inside of +a guardhouse looking out.</p> + +<p>With sardonic melancholy, he recalled +times on his O.D. and O.G. +tours when he had inspected various +prison areas, peered into the cells, +and often felt mildly sorry for some +poor spaceman doing time for some +minor infraction. There had never +been very many offenders. Discipline +on space bases was not a pressing +problem: the corps was an elite +branch and intransigent candidates +were weeded out quick.</p> + +<p>Well, now he was a prisoner, himself. +He, Lance Cooper, Major, Space +Service, stood behind bars. And no +matter how hard his face pressed +against those bars, he could only see +as far as the corridor extended in +either direction.</p> + +<p>It wasn't far enough.</p> + +<p>Nor would anybody talk to him. +He couldn't even get the time of day.</p> + +<p>Not since his probation as a plebe, +had he consorted with such a bunch +of "hush-mouths." Had he no rights +as a commissioned officer and a +world citizen? He still didn't know +why he was incarcerated, or what +regulation he had broken.</p> + +<p>But that wasn't his most nagging +worry.</p> + +<p>What preyed on his mind most +was Carolyn.</p> + +<p><i>Where was she?</i></p> + +<p><i>Where? Where? WHERE?</i></p> + +<p>He could have lowered his head +and pounded it to a pulp against the +wall, in his rage and frustration at +being confined. But banging his +brains out wouldn't help. Besides, he +was going to stand deeply in need of +his gray matter, if he hoped to get +out of this one.</p> + +<p>At evening time, a guardhouse +trusty brought him his supper on a +tray. Also, the man tossed him half a +pack of cigarettes when Lance sought +to bum just one. But when the pilot +started pitching questions back, the +trusty looked scared and unhappy +and quickly limped away.</p> + +<p>The night dragged on, as unending +seemingly as one of Luna's two-week +darkouts. Lance smoked, paced +the cell from wall to wall, occasionally +plopped down on his cot and +went over everything that had happened, +trying to find some pattern to +it.</p> + +<p>But there was no pattern.</p> + +<p>Next morning, he splashed up and +shaved beard away from a tired, red-eyed +face in the mirror. Then, he +waited. No one came.</p> + +<p>Finally, at noon a new officer +checked in for duty at the guardhouse. +Lance recognized him as a +young ordinance captain he'd met +before. He called out to the man. +The officer, striding down the hallway, +wheeled at the sound of his +name and came back to the cell. His +eyes bugged slightly, when he saw +Lance: "Holy smoke, major! What've +they got you in for?"</p> + +<p>"Search me." Lance was overjoyed +to find someone, at last, who didn't +dummy up. "I thought maybe you +might have a notion."</p> + +<p>"I just came on duty. But if there's +a charge sheet lying around, I might +dig up something from it."</p> + +<p>"Would you try?"</p> + +<p>The captain held up two fingers +and grinned. "No sweat."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Lance waited some more.</p> + +<p>The captain did not come back, +however, until several hours later. +After Lance's evening meal, in fact. +His face bore a puzzled frown.</p> + +<p>Lance stood at his cell door, gripping +the bars. "Well?"</p> + +<p>"I checked. Seems the brass are +holding you for observation until +some headshrinker gets in from HQ. +A specialist in hyperspace medicine."</p> + +<p>"Then, how come I'm not in a +regular hospital? Why the jailhouse?"</p> + +<p>"Beats me, major. I can tell you +this, though. You're not the first +hype-pilot who's been dragged in +here screaming."</p> + +<p>"But I wasn't screaming! I was +perfectly calm and collected, when I +climbed down out of my ship. All I +did was ask about Carolyn."</p> + +<p>"About who?"</p> + +<p>"Carolyn Sagen. Old Hard-Head's +daughter." Lance felt a sinking feeling. +He stopped, cocked a wary eye +at the other officer. "Don't look at me +that way, man."</p> + +<p>The captain had been staring hard +at Lance. Now, he began shaking his +head back and forth, slowly and sadly.</p> + +<p>"What's that supposed to mean?" +Lance asked.</p> + +<p>"It means Colonel Sagen doesn't +have a daughter."</p> + +<p>Lance snorted. "Don't tell me +that. I'm engaged to her."</p> + +<p>"Sorry, major. I've been around the +colonel and his wife since I was a +kid. He got me the appointment to +the Academy. They've never had any +children of their own."</p> + +<p>"Why, you—" Lance reached +through the bars and grabbed the +captain by his shirt collar, jerking +him against the bars. "It's a lie! A +conspiracy! Maybe you think I'm +nuts. But I'm not!" He commenced +pummeling the captain with his free +fist. Then he thought of something +better. He snatched the captain's gun +from his holster and leveled it.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/004.png" width="600" height="494" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"I'm getting out of here," Lance +announced. "Open up this door—or +take the consequences!"</p> + +<p>The captain, his face ashy white, +submitted and unlocked the cell +door. Lance stepped out, got behind +the officer, and prodded him into the +cell. Tearing a sheet into strips, he +tied the man to the cot and gagged +him. It took a very short time.</p> + +<p>Then, he softly padded down the +hallway. He caught the sergeant of +the guard napping in his chair. In a +moment, the sergeant, too, was +trussed up, gagged, and whisked into +a spare cell. Lance then tucked the +captain's pistol inside his shirt and +ventured outside.</p> + +<p>It was a moonlit night. A patrol +jeep was parked on the drive, begging +to be commandeered. Lance hopped +in. There was something he had to +find out for himself, and only one way +to do it: Go to the place where they +kept the answers.</p> + +<p>Wheeling the jeep along the military +street fast as he dared, Lance +headed for the base housing area. +Colonel Sagen's trim two-story brick +residence was where he hoped to pay +a call. He knew the route by heart. +He'd been a guest there often +enough.</p> + +<p>The colonel's driveway was empty +of cars, he was happy to notice, when +he reached the house. He parked, +sprinted up to the porch, and knocked +on the door.</p> + +<p>Presently, footsteps sounded inside +and the door opened a few inches. +But it was not Carolyn whom Lance +saw peeping out at him. It was another +woman, older. He recognized Mrs. +Sagen.</p> + +<p>Lance was blunt. "I've got to see +Carolyn, and I haven't much time. +You'd better let me in."</p> + +<p>An apprehensive, almost shocked +expression briefly flitted across the +face of Carolyn's mother. It was as if +she had never set eyes on Lance +Cooper before. Even the gold oak +leaves on his shoulders seemed to +reassure her but slightly. She kept the +door chain in place between them.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, major. I'm not sure that +I understand you."</p> + +<p>"Don't malarky me, please. You +know who I am and who I want. +Carolyn, your daughter."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Mrs. Sagen. It was said +in a way that revealed nothing.</p> + +<p>"Look," said Lance, impatiently. +"You do have a daughter. I've dated +her. So, all right," he waved his hands, +"she's been spirited away for some +reason. I still think I've got a right to +know why."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my!" said Mrs. Sagen, and her +hand flew to her face. "You must be +that scout-ship pilot who showed up +yesterday. The one who—"</p> + +<p>"Yeh, the one everybody figures for +psycho. But I'm not, Mrs. Sagen. You +know I'm not." Lance took a deep +breath. "Can I come in? I just want +some facts. After all, this crazy farce +can't go on forever."</p> + +<p>The colonel's wife still looked +doubtful, but Lance Cooper had a +way of pressing a point hard when +his interests were at stake. He began +talking rapidly and convincingly.</p> + +<p>He got in.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The light indoors was better. +Lance's eyes squinted, as they adjusted +from the gloom of the porch. Somehow, +Mrs. Sagen didn't look quite as +he remembered. Her hair was much +darker now; he was sure of that. +Maybe she had dyed it. Yet her features +were certainly harder and bonier. +More like a replica of her husband's. +And her breath smelled alcoholic. +Could a mere month have +made that much difference?</p> + +<p>The house had been refurnished +too, Lance noticed. The living-room +decor was more severe and functional. +And the pictures on the wall were +garish. Not Mrs. Sagen's type, at all.</p> + +<p><i>Hey, wait a minute!</i> he told himself; +<i>speaking of pictures</i>—his glance +skipped to the far corner of the room. +A triptych of photos of Carolyn had +always been on display on the mantelpiece. +<i>They would prove that—</i></p> + +<p>Lance's jaw dropped.</p> + +<p>The photos had been removed.</p> + +<p>"Can I get you anything?" Mrs. +Sagen inquired. A little nervously, +Lance thought. "A cup of coffee?"</p> + +<p>"No, thanks. I'd rather hear about +Carolyn."</p> + +<p>"Coffee won't take a minute. I was +just making some fresh in the kitchen."</p> + +<p>Lance shrugged. "Well, O.K., if +you've already got it ready."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sagen's mouth managed a +fleeting smile; then she disappeared +through a swinging door. Lance sat +down in a wrought-iron chair. Finding +it not comfortable, he sprang +back to his feet and paced the floor. +There sure was something wrong +about the colonel's house. Something +very oddly wrong. But he couldn't +quite put his finger on it.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, his quickened hearing +caught the faint murmur of a human +voice. Was it Carolyn? The talk +seemed to be issuing from the kitchen—where +her mother had gone. +Lance tiptoed across the room, pushed +the door slightly open.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sagen was on the phone. Her +voice was excited; she was obviously +straining to keep it at a low level. +"I'm telling you, he's here! Right in +our living room. And he insists I +know somebody named Carolyn ... +Yes, that's right. But do hurry ... +Please. He's acting much odder than +the others did."</p> + +<p>Lance had eavesdropped enough. +He turned away, glided rapidly out +the front door and into the night.</p> + +<p>Where should he go next? The +jeep would serve to hustle him +around the base for a while—but +eventually he would be chased down +and recaptured. And as for crashing +any of the exit gates and thus attaining +to greater freedom, he knew +they would all be barricaded and +heavily manned by now.</p> + +<p>Lance was still burning over Mrs. +Sagen's double-cross. Did he want +coffee? she had asked. <i>Coffee!</i> his +mind repeated, disgusted. What he +needed was something stronger. A +good stiff drink.</p> + +<p>That was it! The Officers Club. +Casey would be on duty at this hour. +Lance would ask him to mix him a +double for old times' sake. Then, he'd +meekly surrender and quietly go +crazy in his cell, until the headshrinker +came and confirmed it for real.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The pilot got back in the jeep +and drove on. When he reached the +Club, he wheeled the vehicle around +to a rear entrance where bushes made +the grounds shadier. Parking, he got +out, strolled into the building as +sneakily as if he'd been an inspector-general +paying a surprise call from +out of Space Service Headquarters.</p> + +<p>Few officers lounged about. Most +were at tables and engrossed in their +own imbibing. Lance strode up to +the bar, perched himself on a high +stool. Casey, whose hair was red as a +Martian desert, was rinsing glasses. +He stopped at his task and came +over, wiping the counter with a wet +towel. "What'll it be, major?"</p> + +<p>"One of your Specials, Casey, my +friend."</p> + +<p>"Beg pardon?"</p> + +<p>"You know—one of your Casey +Specials. Where you start off with +half a glass of Irish whisky, add a +dash or two of absinthe, a drop of—"</p> + +<p>"I don't stock no absinthe, major." +Casey's freckled face was abruptly +hostile. "You know that. It's against +regulations."</p> + +<p>Lance fought down a tremor. Everybody +was in on it. Everybody. He +compromised for a minute: "Give me +a slug of Teacher's on the rocks, then."</p> + +<p>Casey measured out the drink for +him.</p> + +<p>Lance downed it. His hand gripped +the edge of the bar. "Casey, do you +know me?"</p> + +<p>He watched Casey study him. The +thick reddish eyebrows knit. "It's a +pretty big base, major. Lots of faces. +Sometimes, I kind of forget the +names."</p> + +<p>Lance's blood pressure gave a +spurt. "I'm Major Lance Cooper! +Hell, you've rung up my chits often +enough!"</p> + +<p>And his mind added: <i>How could +you forget?</i></p> + +<p>"Major." Casey's eyes narrowed, +while the uneasy suspicion in them +grew. "We don't have no chit system +at this club."</p> + +<p>Lance's head felt like it would explode. +He could take no more.</p> + +<p>"You're lying!" he shouted. His +big hands reached over the mahogany +counter and shook the bartender +like a squawk-box that had refused +to function properly. "Tell me you're +lying in your teeth. If you don't, I'll +push them down your throat—"</p> + +<p>Suddenly, Lance sensed people behind +him. A firm hand clamped down +heavily on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>The pilot stretched his neck +around. What now? His hands did +not relax their murderous grip on his +victim.</p> + +<p>The arresting party had entered +the club quietly. Now, they were +ganged up around him: Colonel Sagen, +his two aides, a fourth man +Lance recognized as Major Carmody, +the base legal officer—and a fifth +man too, who wore the insignia of +the Space Surgeon-General's Department. +A psychiatrist.</p> + +<p>"Better come peacefully, major," +rasped Colonel Sagen. "You've been +'cleared' for an explanation—and if +you're smart, you'll listen to the spiel +and play ball."</p> + +<p>The way it was said made Lance +feel he could trust the Old Man for +that long. Anyhow, what choice did +he have?</p> + +<p>"It's about time," Lance sighed. He +set Casey down, to the latter's greatly +exhaled relief. "Only how come all +the suspense?"</p> + +<p>"It was very necessary," broke in +Major Carmody.</p> + +<p>"Was it? Well, you had me about +to crack—if that was your object. +Now then, would any of you mind +easing my worries about Carolyn. +She's O.K., isn't she?"</p> + +<p>His glance shifted from one to the +other.</p> + +<p>"Isn't she?"</p> + +<p>Nobody would reply—neither +Colonel Sagen, nor any of the officers +bunched-up around him.</p> + +<p>Sweat suddenly broke out on +Lance's brow. The chilly feeling went +through him that if and when an answer +was provided him, he wasn't +particularly going to like it.</p> + +<p>Not in the slightest.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Shortly afterwards, Lance was driven +across the base by his captors and +escorted into his commanding officer's +private office. The two aides +were dismissed, but the psychiatrist-officer, +who also wore eagles on his +shoulders, and Major Carmody remained.</p> + +<p>Colonel Sagen seated himself behind +his desk.</p> + +<p>"Major," he began, clearing his +throat, "you imagine me to have a +daughter. You're positive of it. You +even visualize her so well, that you +remember something about how you +were going to marry her."</p> + +<p>"You're not going to talk me out +of anything on that score," Lance +shot back.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps, we don't intend to. Colonel +Nordsen, here," Sagen indicated +the psychiatrist, "has flown in from +HQ to chat with you. He can explain +the technical aspects of the phenomenon +that has thrown you better than +I can. I'd advise you to listen to him. +He's just what you need."</p> + +<p>"Just what I need? What else do +you intend to do? Hypnotize me, so +you can erase all my past?"</p> + +<p>The colonel scowled. "Look here, +major. You co-operate and learn to +keep your mouth shut, we may be +able to restore you to duty. But if +not ... well, what happens then +will be entirely up to Nordsen. It +could mean a padded cell. The development +of hyperspace exploration +has to go on, whatever happens to +you."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you one thing to your +face, colonel," Lance replied, hotly. +"I'm not off my rocker."</p> + +<p>"No one has maintained you +were," broke in Colonel Nordsen. +"But Colonel Sagen had to throw a +curtain around you fast."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>Neither officer answered.</p> + +<p>Finally, Colonel Sagen said, "I +think you'd better continue with him, +Colonel Nordsen."</p> + +<p>Nordsen was a youthful-looking +man for his rank, yet prematurely +balding. He wore thick-shelled +glasses.</p> + +<p>"Major Cooper," Nordsen began, +"let's go back to when you put the +<i>Cosmos XII</i> through its first jump +through hyperspace. How well do +you recall your experience?"</p> + +<p>"I'll never forget it. You Earthbound +kiwis should try it sometime."</p> + +<p>"Did you experience a feeling ... +perhaps, rather uncanny ... that +the whole thing had happened to +you before? What psychologists call +the sense of <i>déjà vu</i>?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think so."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps some other type of phenomenon +was manifested? A feeling +you'd been split in half, maybe."</p> + +<p>"That did happen."</p> + +<p>"Describe it."</p> + +<p>"It was more than just being split +in half. I felt like I was suddenly +hundreds of selves. I could see other +replicas of 'me' all around."</p> + +<p>Nordsen nodded, thoughtfully. +"That was what we call the 'Infinite +Fission' syndrome. All those other +'you's' were personality matrices of +yourself in alternate worlds. Did you +notice anything else?"</p> + +<p>Lance nodded, grudgingly.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Look, colonel. If I answer your +questions, will you answer mine?"</p> + +<p>"Any reasonable ones, yes. That's +what we're here for."</p> + +<p>"Well, there was the disturbing +thing about the <i>Cosmos XII</i>, itself. I +saw images of the ship riding along +beside me, out there in the hype. +Where nothing material could possibly +exist. Where not even light could +reflect back, or any other wave propagation." +Lance shook his head, recalling +the experience. "What could +have caused a hallucination like +that?"</p> + +<p>"It was no hallucination, Lance. It +was real and has happened before. +We can rest you easy on that point."</p> + +<p>Colonel Nordsen removed tobacco +from a pouch, stuffed his pipe, lit up. +Bluish smoke formed a halo about +him.</p> + +<p>"Lance, the Space Service has been +sending ships through hyperspace for +nearly two years now. Only recently +did anybody notice something was +seriously wrong with the pilots who +came back. Up until then ... oh, a +pilot might act a little queer for a +day or two. But who wouldn't, cooped +up alone in a steel projectile for four +weeks? We thought very little of it."</p> + +<p>"Uh huh," was Lance Cooper's only +comment.</p> + +<p>Nordsen transferred his pipe to +his hand. "But eventually, even the +Space Service gets around to putting +two and two together on the slipstick. +The incidents kept piling up. A pilot +comes back from Epsilon Eridani, for +example, and insists on giving everybody +left-handed salutes. Another +has taken a scout ship to 61 Cygni. +He insists at the Officers Club that +Colonel Sagen here has a nickname +of 'Old Hard-Head'. Nobody else on +the base is aware of any such thing. +Then, still another pilot—"</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute!" Lance interrupted. +"Hasn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Hasn't what? I don't follow you."</p> + +<p>"Colonel Sagen. Hasn't he got that +nickname? I mean, it was a term of +respect and liking, of course. But—"</p> + +<p>"No," said Nordsen.</p> + +<p>"No?" Lance echoed, disbelieving. +"Since when?"</p> + +<p>"Not since <i>ever</i>, major. Not on +this particular track."</p> + +<p>"Colonel Nordsen, you're losing +me."</p> + +<p>"Patience, please. I was about to +tell you that still another pilot lands +on our base, and he wears a blue tie. +Claims the Space Service has always +worn blue ties."</p> + +<p>"I take it back," said Lance. "I'm +a pilot and all pilots are slowly going +nuts." Then, it occurred to him to +evince more interest or they might +ship him back to the brig sooner +than expected. "A blue tie, huh?"</p> + +<p>"And blue suede chukkas, to +match," Colonel Sagen's hoarse voice +broke in. "Most unmilitary-looking +uniform I ever saw on a space officer."</p> + +<p>Colonel Nordsen, the psychiatrist, +set his pipe aside. "Gradually, we began +building up a file of such weird +discrepancies. Another pilot landed +wearing a handle-bar mustache. He +couldn't possibly have grown so +much lip-hair in a month. Yet, the +man claimed he'd sported the mustache +for years; and that every officer +in his squadron was decked out with +one, too."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>"Tell me just one thing," Lance +pleaded. His nerves were gradually +getting more on edge. "What has all +this got to do with Carolyn Sagen? +Why is she being kept from me?"</p> + +<p>Nordsen's eyebrows met, evincing +a little displeasure. "Don't you get +the drift, major? I've been trying to +accomplish two things at the same +time. Cushion a shock for you—and +explain why what has happened has +happened. There is no Carolyn Sagen. +The colonel and his wife have +always been childless."</p> + +<p>Lance got belligerent. "Say that +again!"</p> + +<p>"There is no Carolyn Sagen here."</p> + +<p>"What d'you mean, when you say +'here'?"</p> + +<p>Nordsen took off his shell-rimmed +glasses, wiped them, restored them +to his boyish face. "I would advise +you to brace yourself. By 'here,' I +mean on this particular time-track."</p> + +<p>Lance stared at him.</p> + +<p>"Doesn't the word have any significance +for you?" Nordsen asked.</p> + +<p>"Time-track? Sure, I've heard of +the concept before. It's a theory that +parallel worlds branch off when ... +hey!" Lance's tone rose to a shout. +"You're not trying to imply that ... +that I'm on a diff—?"</p> + +<p>"That's right. We're trying to tell +you that you have obviously landed +in another time-track. One that is +parallel to—but just a slight bit different +from the one you formerly +knew. To you, we seem to be the +same officers as in that world; but of +course, we're not. It isn't the same +universe. Hyperspace is tricky stuff, +as our men are finding out. You've +just got bounced around by one of the +trickiest things connected with it."</p> + +<p>Lance groaned. "Now, I'm told!"</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry. It's nothing new, only +the information is classified top-secret +in our world; and evidently in +yours, too. It has to be withheld from +hype-trainees, otherwise they might +deliberately flunk their course. We're +running pilot classes here on our +track, too. We have to keep them +filled."</p> + +<p>Lance was stunned. He hardly +knew what he should say or do next.</p> + +<p>Finally, he put forth a faltering +question: "Is there any way I can get +back to Home Base? <i>My</i> home base?"</p> + +<p>All three officers in the room shook +their heads in unison.</p> + +<p>"You might as well look for a pebble +in the beach," said Nordsen. He +elucidated: "As a matter of fact, this +<i>is</i> Home Base for you. The differences +between one track and another are +not usually too great; the resemblances +are many. Sometimes even, +the returned pilot accommodates himself +to the new time-track without +suspecting in the slightest what's +happened to him."</p> + +<p>"And in those cases, you seldom +bother to enlighten him, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Naturally not. Security frowns on +it."</p> + +<p>"But in my case, you couldn't cover +up."</p> + +<p>"Your case manifests a much more +serious slippage. Your path, evidently, +warped to a track several million +or billion worlds further over +than anybody from your world had +previously experienced. Consequently, +your luck has really been unfortunate. +You've materialized out of +hyperspace into a universe where +someone you apparently knew quite +closely simply was never born."</p> + +<div class="figright"> +<img src="images/005.png" width="320" height="500" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"But Carolyn did exist before ... +where I was? I'm not dreaming."</p> + +<p>"No. Both our worlds are equally +real."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Lance, though he felt the truth +slowly and inexorably sink in, still +could not quite grasp all its implications. +He turned his numbed face to +the other two officers in the room. +Colonel Sagen and Major Carmody +inclined their heads.</p> + +<p>For one despairing moment, Lance +felt almost like hurling himself +through the window. Then, he +straightened up. His mouth compressed +into a thin line. "If I must +face the facts, I must. But," his tone +edged off into irony, "it sure isn't +easy. You'll have to give me time."</p> + +<p>Colonel Nordsen stood up, held +out his hand. "I'm sorry, major, believe +me. This is a hard blow to take +and I wouldn't care to be on the receiving +end, myself. But you'll adjust. +If you like, I'll recommend you +for convalescent leave. You understand, +of course," the psychiatrist +went on, "that we expect you to keep +tight-lipped. Our hype-classes are +still too small. We need a lot of +sharp men, and they have to be +volunteers. Right, Colonel Sagen?"</p> + +<p>"Right."</p> + +<p>Lance dropped the proffered hand. +"I get it. Let the word get around +how hyperspace messes you up, all +your bright young jets will bug out +on it. That's your main worry, isn't +it? Not what happens to me."</p> + +<p>"Frankly, yes," Nordsen acknowledged, +without blinking. "But the +Space Service is also concerned about +individuals. Don't worry now, major. +We'll look after you."</p> + +<p>"Don't bother!" An uncontrolled +bitterness crept into Lance's reply. +"Far as I'm concerned, the Space +Service can go to hell. What reason +have I got to stay in it? You've +conned me out of all that meant anything +in my life."</p> + +<p>Nobody said a word.</p> + +<p>Lance rose to his feet, unsteadily. +His sardonic glance swept over +them. "I suppose it's back to the +guardhouse for me now, huh? Well, +I won't be sorry to go. I'll find better +company. And I refuse your bribe of +special leave-time."</p> + +<p>Colonel Nordsen seemed unaffected. +"You're making a mistake," +he said, calmly.</p> + +<p>"Am I?"</p> + +<p>"Major, we're offering you a chance +to get adjusted and assimilated. Take +it or leave it. We can hold you in +the brig until you see reason. But +you're a good man. We need you."</p> + +<p>"For what? More flights through +that hyperspace muck?"</p> + +<p>"If you can pass our mental stability +tests, yes."</p> + +<p>"And if not?"</p> + +<p>"You'll be grounded."</p> + +<p>Lance made a sudden decision.</p> + +<p>"I want to go up right now."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>"You heard me. I want to go up in +the <i>Cosmos XII</i> right now, tests or +no tests. Ground me—and I'll never +have a chance again. Don't you think +I'm hep to that?"</p> + +<p>"We'll see that you're not grounded," +broke in Colonel Sagen, from +behind his desk.</p> + +<p>But Lance didn't believe him.</p> + +<p>"Don't try to kid me, colonel," he +snapped out. "You write me out +flight orders for the <i>Cosmos XII</i>, or +I'll blab everything I know. You +can't hang me, you can't tear my +tongue out—and I know I'll bust +out of your guardhouse one way or +another! You'll see! And then, how +will you fill up your precious training +classes? Then, how will you get +new chumps to pilot your ships to the +stars? The stars! Ha, ha! That's the +biggest joke of all!"</p> + +<p>Colonel Sagen began to splutter. +Lance, watching him carefully, decided +there wasn't much resemblance +between the old boy and the fine Colonel +Sagen he'd known in his own +world. Maybe it'd been having the +softening influence of normal family +life and a growing daughter that had +made old Hard-Head human.</p> + +<p>"You'll never get away with this," +Sagen warned. "We're three against +one."</p> + +<p>"Won't I?" Lance's hand darted inside +his shirt. "Maybe this'll equalize +us." He brought out the pistol he'd +taken off the captain in the guardhouse. +Sagen, Nordsen, and Carmody +backed off from it.</p> + +<p>"The <i>Cosmos XII</i> is still two-thirds +fueled," Lance said. "And +well-stocked on provisions. Besides, +I'm a light eater in hyperspace—as +who isn't? I intend to take that ship +out again, and you're going to help +me, gentlemen."</p> + +<p>Lance flicked off the safety and +waved the gun back and forth, to +demonstrate what he meant.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>It worked.</p> + +<p>Lance got his ship, using Colonel +Sagen as both shield and go-between +after he had first tied up the other +two officers in a closet. He kept a +close watch, of course, for the SSP's +and their gas pellets; but apparently +an alarm was not raised soon enough +for the base police to hurl into action.</p> + +<p>After having the colonel authorize +a space clearance for him by contacting +Traffic directly over the +ship's mike, Lance finally released +him.</p> + +<p>The colonel scooted down the ladder. +Lance gave him time to clear the +pad, but little more; then he went to +work pushing buttons on the manual +desk. The <i>Cosmos XII</i> blasted loose +from her moorings and soared aloft +into space.</p> + +<p>At five thousand miles above +Earth's surface, Lance re-checked his +tapes. Groombridge 34 was the only +possible destination the autopilot +could take him to. Somehow, he didn't +mind taking one more look at the +double-star system. He cut into hyperspace +as quickly as he dared; then +sat back and relaxed. That is, as much +as any man could in hype.</p> + +<p>When he reached Groombridge +34, all Lance did was pop out into +normal space long enough to assure +himself he had reached the proper +checkpoint for turning back. The +tapes were in good order, and there +had been no hitches. Grunting, he +threw in the switch-over and once +more found himself plowing through +hyperspace. Only this time, he was +homeward bound.</p> + +<p>If he were lucky, just real lucky, he +told himself, there might be a Carolyn +Sagen alive and waiting for him +in whatever time-track he wound up +in this time.</p> + +<p>At last, he materialized again in +the Solar System. Or <i>some</i> Solar System, +anyhow. As far as he could tell, +all the planets looked unchanged. It +was just four weeks to the day, since +his escape from World Two. This +would be World Three. He had been +gone eight weeks and two days from +World One.</p> + +<p>Lance cut the ecliptic at a different +angle than before, and Terra was farther +along in her journey around Sol. +He needed a new landing trajectory. +His eye swept his panel, to see if +anything had been preset. There was +no green flashing on the deck, where +there should have been green.</p> + +<p>Oh, well. There could have been +cruisers waiting in space, too, to pot +him with ship-to-ship missiles. He'd +taken one chance, he could take another.</p> + +<p>Lance opened a switch and called +Base Traffic's frequency. "This is the +<i>Cosmos XII</i>, Major Lance Cooper piloting. +Just broke out of hype. Can +you read me?"</p> + +<p>He repeated the message for several +minutes.</p> + +<p>Finally, he got an answer. A startled +voice whipped back at him +through crackling static: "<i>Cosmos +XII</i>, this is Traffic. Who did you say +you were up there?"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Lance hardly knew whether he felt +more like laughing or crying. He was +fairly close to home, anyhow. They +did have space traffic here. And being +pretty much of an optimist, he also +decided that it was a time-track where +he had been known. Only being so +long overdue, he had probably been +given up for lost.</p> + +<p>On this premise, he could visualize +all the consternation and excitement +now in progress downstairs; the +personnel were likely falling all over +each other in the stampede to pass +the word around.</p> + +<p>"I'm Major Lance Cooper," he announced +over the mike.</p> + +<p>There was a long pause.</p> + +<p>"Repeat that, please."</p> + +<p>"This is Lance Cooper, Major, +Space Service. I'm up here in the +<i>Cosmos XII</i>."</p> + +<p>"B-b-but you can't be."</p> + +<p>"Who says I can't. Say, what's the +matter with you monkeys? I want to +come in."</p> + +<p>Another voice took over on the +channel. "The lieutenant's right. You +actually do sound like Cooper, whoever +you are!"</p> + +<p>Lance laughed openly. "I've lived +with him all my life, why shouldn't I? +You think I'm a ghost?"</p> + +<p>"Well ... no. We know you're +real. We're getting a blip from you. +Only thing is—"</p> + +<p>"Let's talk about it when I get +down," Lance interrupted. "I need a +program fast. Get those G.S. computers +working and read me an orbit."</p> + +<p>"W-will do."</p> + +<p>"And one more thing: Is Colonel +Sagen around?"</p> + +<p>"Not today, major. He had to fly +to Luna."</p> + +<p>"How about his daughter?"</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p><i>Oh, no!</i> Lance felt his heart almost +stop. Had the big try been for nothing? +He chanced a repeat.</p> + +<p>"His daughter. Carolyn Sagen."</p> + +<p>This time, he got results.</p> + +<p>"Oh! You mean Hard-Head's +daughter. The one who ... say, +wasn't she all set to marry you?"</p> + +<p>"You bet your last commendation +ribbon she was. And she's going to! +Hey!" Lance shouted. "Anything +wrong with her? She's not sick or—"</p> + +<p>The voice of the first operator at +Traffic came back on. "The captain +had to take off. No sir, major. She's +not sick. We just don't know how +she's gonna take this, is all."</p> + +<p>"With bells on, Junior. Wedding +bells! Get her out to meet me when +I land, will you? And snap it up on +that trajectory."</p> + +<p>Again, the traffic crackled in +Lance's ear. There seemed to be a +great deal of excitement going on +down there. And then the great night +rim of Earth swung under him, blocking +out further radio communication.</p> + +<p>Presently, a relayed beam from +Luna came in. The Luna spaceport +read him a series of figures to punch +into his autopilot. The new orbit +would edge him in close enough to +Terra, that he could pick up an assist +from the G.A. system of his home +base.</p> + +<p>Lance rubbed his hands together in +his joy. He was cooking on all burners, +now. At last.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Six hours later, the <i>Cosmos XII</i> +settled down in her landing cradle. +Major Lance Cooper kicked open the +air-lock door and began climbing +down to solid ground.</p> + +<p>It was just barely twilight. Ordinarily, +there would have been long purplish +shadows at the far ends of the +field; but now the entire space base +was flooded with lights. Were the +beacons sweeping back and forth just +to welcome him? It hardly seemed +possible. Yet, the apron itself, was +swarming with people. Here they +came now! A whole mob racing towards +him, and the noise of their +swelling shouts preceded them, rolling +forward like the breakers upon a +shore.</p> + +<p><i>Oh, oh! What was that in the far +corner of the field?</i> A big pile of +crumpled metal, already rusted and +ready for the bulldozers. Some poor +devil had crashed his hype-ship. Lance +wondered vaguely which of his buddies +it had been. Then he shut it out +of his mind.</p> + +<p>A jeep swung out ahead of the advancing +crowd and came speeding +down the concrete. Brakes squealed; +rubber tires bit in hard, and the vehicle +plunged to a halt near him. Lance +recognized Major Carmody in the +driver's seat. Or another Major Carmody. +What difference did it make? +None, now that he was able to identify +so very well the other figure in +the jeep—a slight blond figure in +a trench coat seated next to Carmody.</p> + +<p>Carolyn!</p> + +<p>He saw her get out. He saw her +commence walking towards him. But +too slowly, he thought. And he was +too paralyzed to move.</p> + +<p>"Lance?" she called to him. "Is it +you? Is it really you, darling?"</p> + +<p>The girl's step almost faltered. Major +Carmody's hand reached out, +steadied her.</p> + +<p>Something was wrong again. But +what? He could not guess.</p> + +<p>Lance came out of his paralysis. He +began running towards her.</p> + +<p>And in a moment, they were in +each other's arms without caring why +or how: Lance Cooper and the girl he +loved. Kissing, hugging, unable to +believe for a moment in each other's +reality.</p> + +<p>Then, Carolyn had to have breath +and she drew apart for a moment. +Then, she kissed him again. And +Lance, for the first time, listened and +made sense out of the welter of hysterical +sobbing words that were pouring +forth:</p> + +<p>"Darling, darling, darling Lance! +I cried so much, and now it's all over. +I don't care if you're not real. I love +you, I love you! I don't care if you are +somebody from another time-track +like Major Carmody says! You're my +Lance and you belong to me. It's you +I love and want now; no matter how +shameless I sound!... Yes, darling, +it's you I want, not that poor +broken thing we buried two months +ago. Not the—"</p> + +<p>Lance's feeling of impending horror +was great, but not so great that he +shrank from the question that now +rose and beat and beat at his brain. +The overwhelming question that had +to be asked.</p> + +<p>"Carolyn!" He held her so tight he +thought for a moment he'd cracked +her ribs. His half-shook gaze penetrated +her retreating eyes, forcing her +to meet him.</p> + +<p>"Carolyn! What do you mean—it's +<i>me</i> you want now, not that poor +broken thing you buried? Tell me. +TELL ME!"</p> + +<p>"Don't you know, darling Lance? +When you took off that night eight +weeks ago, that night I kissed you +good-by, your ship ... oh don't you +comprehend?... Your ship, it—"</p> + +<p>"Tell me, Carolyn!"</p> + +<p>"Your ship, Lance, that's it over +there—the wreckage of it! The +<i>Cosmos XII</i> crashed on take-off that +night, Lance. You were killed out-right. +We buried you two days later."</p> + +<p class="ctr"><b>THE END</b></p> + +<div class="trn"><b>Transcriber's Note:</b> +This etext was produced from <i>Analog Science Fact and Science Fiction</i> April 1961. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and +typographical errors have been corrected without note.</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Next Door, Next World, by Robert Donald Locke + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NEXT DOOR, NEXT WORLD *** + +***** This file should be named 26205-h.htm or 26205-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/2/0/26205/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Dave Lovelace, Stephen Blundell +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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index 0000000..9de906b --- /dev/null +++ b/26205.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1956 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Next Door, Next World, by Robert Donald Locke + +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: Next Door, Next World + +Author: Robert Donald Locke + +Illustrator: Douglas + +Release Date: August 6, 2008 [EBook #26205] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NEXT DOOR, NEXT WORLD *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Dave Lovelace, Stephen Blundell +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + NEXT + DOOR, + NEXT + WORLD + + By ROBERT + DONALD + LOCKE + + + _Almost any phenomenon can be + used--or act--for good or ill. + Mutation usually brings ill--but + it also brings greatness. Change + can go any direction._ + + + Illustrated by Douglas + + +Hungrily, the cradled vessel's great steel nose pointed up to the +distant stars. She was the _Cosmos XII_, newest and sleekest of the +Space Service's rapidly-expanding wing of interstellar scout ships, and +she was now ready for operational work. + +Major Lance Cooper, a big man with space-tanned features, stood in the +shadow of the control bunker and watched the swarm of ground crewmen +working at last-minute speed atop the loading tower. Inside him burned a +hunger, too. + +Hunger, and another emotion--pride. + +The pride swelled Lance's open-collared khaki shirt, as he envisioned +himself at the ship's controls within a few minutes. Finally, after long +years of study, sweat and dedication, he'd made it to the Big League. No +more jockeying those tubby old rocket-pots to Luna! From here on, he was +going to see, taste, feel what the universe was like way, way out--in +Deep Space. The _Cosmos XII_, like her earlier sisters, was designed to +plow through that shuddery nowhere the cookbooks identified as +"hyperspace." + +Lance's glance shifted upward, scanning the velvet backdrop of frosty +white points of light against which the slender, silverish, almost +wingless form stood framed. More stars than a man could visit in a +lifetime! And some already within grasp! + +His exultant feeling grew, and Lance kept his head tilted backward. +Alpha Centauri, the most popular target, was not visible at this +latitude; and Barnard's star, besides being far too faint, lay on the +other side of the sun. But there shone Sirius, just as bright as it had +glittered for the Greeks, and frosty Procyon, a little to the north. +Both orbs twinkled and beckoned, evoking strange and demanding dreams! + +One day, Man would be able to make landings. Teams of scientists +outfitted to the eyebrows and trained to cope with any environment or +emergency, would explore unknown jungles, _llanos_, steppes; tramp up +and down fertile vales and hills under blue-hot alien suns. Perhaps, +they might even contact native species boasting human intelligence: +mammalian hunters and fishers, city-building lizards, sky-probing +arachnids--who knew what? + +But now, of course, all that Headquarters permitted of flights was the +most furtive of reconnoitering. You hoisted your scout ship aloft under +high-gee, cleared the ecliptic, then swung out of normal space and +_jumped_. When you materialized in the new sector, you set your cameras +clicking, toggled all the other instruments into recording radiation, +gravity pressures, spectroscopy, at slam-bang speed. The very instant +your magnetic tapes got crammed to capacity, you pressed six dozen panic +buttons and scooted like a scared jackrabbit for Home, Sweet Home. + +Adventure? It wasn't even mentioned on the travel posters, yet. + +But, adventure would follow. + +Some day. + +Meanwhile, at the taxpayers' expense, you--the guardian of the +Peace--had enjoyed the billion-dollar thrill of viewing our Solar System +from light-years and light-years of distance. Or so the manual said, +right here on Insert Page 30-Dash-11-Dash-6. + +Lance thought about those veteran hype-pilots who'd already poked around +in the great black Cold out there. How was it they were always +compensating for their frustration? + +Now, he remembered. + +Having few tall tales to spellbind audiences with when they swooped back +down on Home Base after their missions, the hype-pilots got around it by +bragging up Terra itself, and how at least you could always depend upon +good old Earth to come up with something to relax this Warp-Weary +generation! + +"Something, for example, such as we now hold in our hand, brothers!" +Lance could hear them now. "Namely, one of these superbly-programmed +cocktails, as only Casey can turn out." + +(Casey was the Officers Club barkeep and much-beribboned mixologist.) + +"A real 'Casey Special'--look at its pristine beauty! What better +consolation can a man ask, for not having gotten to land at the apogee +point of his orbit?" + +"Besides"--this usually came out after two or three more +tongue-loosening toasts had been quaffed to the beasts of +Headquarters--"what's so blasted special about landing on some +God-forsaken rock _out there_? + +"Hell's bells! Earth is a planet too, isn't it? And when you've been +cooped up in a parsec-gobbling pot for a very, very long two weeks, any +planet looming in your viewscope cries to be set down upon. Your own +prosaic hunk of mud is good as any!" + + * * * * * + +Lance Cooper's rambling thoughts broke off their aimless tracking to +swing one hundred and eighty degrees in midspace and dart right back to +Earth. + +Here at this very moment--and less than a hundred yards away--came +Terra's foremost attraction for him. His hammering heartbeat would have +placed him on the "grounded" list immediately, had there been a medico +with a stethoscope hanging about to detect it. + +The attraction's name was Carolyn Sagen, and she was hurrying directly +across the concrete apron. + +Even under the incandescent work-lamps of the crew scrambling up and +down the ladders, she looked as fetching as a video starlet making her +first personal-appearance tour of the nation. Only the fact she was +Colonel "Hard-Head" Sagen's family pride and joy kept the helmeted and +half-puckered up techs on the rungs from whistling themselves dry in +their enthusiasm. + +Now, she had completely bypassed the work area. Here, the lighting did +not reach and the paler illumination of starshine took over. It seemed +to render the girl's soft blond hair and her full warm lips more +intimately something belonging to Lance Cooper alone--and he liked that. +He saw that she had turned up the collar of her tan coat against the +night wind. + +While still a step or two distant from him, Carolyn halted. Her +worshiping eyes rested fully upon the big pilot. Lance thought he +detected a troubled expression. + +Then, the girl managed a tight smile that conveyed her outward +resignment to all Man's absurd aspirations to own the galaxy: + +"Don't worry about 'Security,' Lance. Dad wrote me out an O.K. to +skitter up this close to the Launching Area. You know"--she gestured +self-consciously--"big crucial moment ... lovers' farewell ... I pulled +all the stops, but it worked." + +"Matter of fact," she added, in an obvious attempt at facetiousness, +"Dad opined he'd have walloped the daylights out of me, if I hadn't put +up a struggle to get near my man." + +Then suddenly, she was not at all brave, anymore. + +Suddenly, she had burrowed into his arms. "Oh Lance, had there been no +other way, I'd have clawed right through fence and revetments to get to +you! Men, men! Just because something's _out there_, as you say ... why +is it so important to build ships and go out and look at it?" Her +fingers dug into Lance's shoulders. "Women are saner ... but maybe +that's why men need us." The grip of her fingers shifted, tightened. +"Kiss me, you big baboon." + +Lance kissed her. A tender kiss, yet gusty enough that he lifted her +from the ground and her high-heeled shoes kicked in free fall. + +The pilot found his girl's breath warm, loving. Yet her cheeks seemed +colder than even the crisp air should account for. And her body was +trembling. + +He planted a second kiss, then set her down. + +"Hey! This is no way for a Space Service brat to carry on. Why, you're +just about to--" + +"To cry, Lance? No, I wasn't. It's just that ... you'll be gone so +long." + +He punched her playfully. "Two measly weeks out, two weeks to astrogate +her back home. And once I've got my feet wet at it, it'll be like +shooting ducks in an alley." + +Carolyn reached out, brushed a windswept tuft of hair from above the +rock-steady eyes that looked at her. + +"I know, Lance. I even realize that just ten years ago, women had to put +up with separations from their sweethearts or husbands that lasted +months. When the old pioneer ships used to limp back and forth to Mars +and Venus. But I'm different, I guess. Weak, maybe. Or just plain +scared--" + +This didn't sound like the blithe-spirited girl he'd pursued for a year, +then wooed and subdued. Lance studied her, then said slowly: "You're +scared. About what? My first flight?" + +Carolyn's head bobbed timidly. + +Lance flashed a reassuring grin. "Everything has to be a brand-new +experience, at some time or other. Me, I prefer to look at hype-flight +from the point of view of the service. A routine thing. Just takes +training. Otherwise," and he shrugged, "it's no more a risk than hauling +groceries upstairs to some weather satellite." + +"Is it, Lance? When one or two ships out of every ten never make it back +at all. Just disappear ... somewhere ... while the others--" + +"One out of thirty or forty, you mean. So hyperspace is a little +tricky." + +"And there's always pilot error to blame, too, I suppose?" + +"Now that you mention it." + +"Only my man is immune from everything?" + +Lance smiled, a little wryly. "Any pilot can make boo-boos, Carolyn. I'm +determined to try awfully hard not to." He added a slight qualification +to his statement. "I've always been pretty lucky up to now, at not +getting lost." + +"I thought the guidance systems and the autopilot computers took care of +all the astrogation corrections?" + +"On a theoretically perfect flight, yes. It's equally true, however, +that hyperspace's geometry doesn't always resemble the sort of lines and +angles you find in our own universe--" + + * * * * * + +Lance abruptly stopped, realizing he was quoting text; his mind groped +for a better way to explain. But Carolyn plunged in first: + +"You see, there do sometimes develop special situations." + +"Sure, sometimes." An exasperation crept into Lance Cooper's voice, +despite his effort to keep it out. Hell, he was just a pilot; not a +rated mathematician. He'd fly hyperspace by the seat of his pants, if he +had to. + +"Lance," said Carolyn. + +"Yes?" + +"You feel it too, don't you?" + +"Feel what?" + +"That there is danger involved. That something dreadfully, dreadfully +wrong _can_ happen to you while you're out there. No matter what the +eggheads say about it." A paroxysm of sobs suddenly racked the girl's +slender body. "Oh, darling, don't go!" + +"Honey, honey!" Lance patted her thin shoulders. + +"I love you so much." + +"Love you, too, Carolyn. You know that." + +"We shouldn't have postponed the wedding. It was wrong to set the date +back." + +Lance shook his head. "Sorry. I couldn't see it any other way." + +He hugged the girl to him; she seemed more desperately frightened than +he had realized. And again, as always when it came to comforting +somebody, he felt as awkward and clumsy as some big lumbering repair-tug +out in space--say--trying to patch a small trim patrol craft. + +But especially, he felt helpless in the presence of this frail, +clinging, lovely piece of femininity he wanted so dearly. Nevertheless +he could keep on trying--blundering though his words and gestures might +be. + +"Carolyn, you think I wanted to chance making you a widow twenty-four +hours after you became a bride?" Lance took a deep breath. "So I did +maintain the percentage wasn't great. Still, it does exist. I'm aware of +that. I just don't let it concern me. But you, Carolyn--don't you see, +hon? Lance Cooper couldn't let anything bad happen to his best girl." + +"I'm trying to understand," said Carolyn. + +Lance's blunt, serious face peered into hers. "Tell you what I will +promise to do." + +Hope cleared away some of the mistiness in Carolyn's eyes. She looked up +at him. "What, Lance?" + +"Once I've knocked off my shell-back trip through the hype, we'll stage +the fanciest wedding this old space base ever goggled its eyes over. +I'll even see to it, the chaplain samples the spiked punch. And you +remember what a raconteur the padre proved to be when Light-Colonel +Galache got spliced?" + +Carolyn Sagen managed a wan smile. + +Lance revved his pep-talk up a few hundred r.p.m. "After all, think of +it this way. Suppose I hadn't beat my brains out to get into +hype-training? I'd never have wound up at this base. You and me would +never have met. I'd never have fallen for you like a ton of +space-ballast." + +"Oh, I know you're right," said Carolyn, clinging more tightly than ever +to Lance's solid frame. "You're always right, just like the Space +Service is always right. But I have a woman's intuition. And I ... I +sense--" + +Unable to finish, she released her grasp and once more withdrew into +herself. + + * * * * * + +Lance's big muscular hand reached out, tilted the girl's chin upward. +Her face was tear-stained for sure, now. + +"Honey, this won't ever do." + +"I can't help it." + +"You're torturing yourself with useless premonitions." Lance wiped the +briny shine from the girl's cheeks as he talked, his own voice getting +hoarser. "Carolyn, I love you so much that I ... well, you know I happen +to hunger for you more than I do that Christmas tree on my control deck. +But I just couldn't give up a chance to solo out to the stars. I +couldn't, baby. I'd probably be court-martialed, anyhow," he added. + +"No, Lance. They wouldn't do that. Not unless you actually got into +space, then turned back. I asked Major Carmody." + +"Carolyn! You didn't?" + +The girl nodded, affirming the truth of what she said. "Lance, I had to. +T-there are some things I know about that you don't." A note of sudden +urgency now tinged her voice. "Strange unfathomable things. Many of the +other pilots who've come back have not been right. I think it has +something to do with their having been outside of normal space--" + +He stared at her. "I just now realize you're trying to tell me +something." + +"Lance, I happened to overhear Dad telling Mother something one night. +Apparently, he'd been rolling and tossing in bed, couldn't sleep. And +Mother's looked after him so long, she just had to know what was wrong. +They went downstairs and she poured him a stiff drink. Then in return, +Dad poured out his troubled soul to her. And Lance--" + +"Yes, Carolyn?" + +"The most probable reason why some hype-pilots never quite make it back +to our world is that the men involved--" + +"The men? You mean, the pilots?" + +"No, the brass. They haven't told the pilots about the fissioning of +anything that gets into hyperspace--" + +Carolyn's breath gave out in a sudden gasp. Her eyes moved away alarmed, +and Lance's own glance turned simultaneously. He saw Colonel "Hard-Head" +Sagen and two other officers coming across the area. + +[Illustration] + +Time had run out on them. + +"Carolyn," Lance said, hurriedly. "I've gabbed with quite a few vets of +hyperspace. At the Club and in my training, both. Sure, a man feels like +he's been crammed into a concrete mixer when he's burning up light-years +in a hyper ship. But after a while, I'm told, even your brains get used +to being bounced around." Lance took the girl's hands and squeezed them +between his. "So let's not worry, huh?" + +Carolyn started to say something in rebuttal, but her father and his +aides were already upon them. + +Colonel Sagen was a tall thin man of erect military carriage. His +features were crisscrossed with radiation scars and his voice boomed out +like a military drum. Yet when one got to know him, he wasn't so gruff. +On the base, he commanded two thousand military personnel and half that +many scientists and techs: a tough job, and one that he was giving his +best. + +After returning Major Lance Cooper's brisk salute, the colonel unbent +and gave his prospective son-in-law a hardy handshake. + +"Lance, I hope you'll be able to keep more of a rein on this little +space-filly of mine, than I've been able to. She was determined to see +you off." + +"I was glad to see her, colonel." + +The colonel smiled. "Can't think of a man on this base I'd rather turn +Carolyn over to." + +"Thank you, sir," said Lance. + +"Been counting the minutes to take-off, I suppose?" + +"He's hardly had a chance to, Dad," Carolyn broke in. "What with me in +his hair!" + +One of the colonel's aides glanced at his watch, then opened up a brief +case and took out a sealed envelope. The colonel relieved him of it and +handed it to Lance. + +"Your flight orders, Lance. Got the preset tapes installed and checked?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Well, you should know your onions now, if you're ever going to. Best of +luck, son." + +"Thank you, colonel." + +Lance turned. "Good-by, Carolyn. Just four weeks now, like I said." + +"I'll be waiting." + +"First jump's always the hardest, I hear," spoke up the second aide, +cheerily. Like a great many other execs, the officer boasted no active +space rating, though he did wear the winged moons of an observer. + +But Lance and Carolyn were again quite busy, and did not hear. + + * * * * * + +Inside the shell of the _Cosmos XII_, Lance, sitting flat on his back +against gravity, looked up at the sweep hands on the control deck clocks +and hurried through his pre-jump check list. Tension mounted inside him. +He contacted the Operations people in the bunker over the radio net. +Colonel Sagen's voice came in clear: "Five minutes, Lance." + +"I am receiving. Area cleared?" + +Traffic broke into report: "Take-off will proceed on schedule." + +The function lights on the "tree" in front of Lance shone green. Gyros +were caged; the tapes were set to roll. Lance's big hands hovered +lightly near the manual over-rides. He was ready to fly, and the +autopilot lights were already winking out in count-down. But you never +could be sure until the last moment. + +What had Carolyn been trying to tell him? + +Before he could pursue the thought, he felt the pressure of the rising +ship take hold; gently at first as she cleared the ground; then heavier +and heavier, until his face felt like a rubber mask under the +acceleration and his heart commenced pounding. + +It didn't take long these days for any ship to build up a tremendous +velocity in space. Lance cleared the ecliptic by a hundred million +miles; then with the Solar System spread out flat below him, he opened +up his flight orders. His destination, he discovered, was Groombridge +34, a visual double star. Right ascension: zero hours, thirteen minutes. +Declination: forty-three and four-tenths degrees. Nearly twelve +light-years distant. + +Since the star's apparent location was nearly halfway up the sky from +the celestial equator, Lance could begin the jump any time and not worry +on his way about skewing too near the gravitational field of any +large-massed body in his own immediate vicinity. + +He permitted himself one brief glance at the blazing universe that hung +all about him: the bright fixed lights that were innumerable suns +against an eternal blackness, and the luminous dust in between that was +even farther-flung. Confusion and chaos seemed to dwell here; if a man +gazed too long, he could quietly go mad. But even more insane, he +anticipated, would be the thick, writhing nothingness of hyperspace. + +Lance Cooper made one final check of all the ship's operating +components; then crossed his fingers and cut in the hype-drive. + +Instantly, his teeth crashed together and clenched; his strapped-in body +was jerked back in its cushioned seat; sweat beaded his brow. A thousand +needles prickling his skin couldn't have been worse. He had been told +once that the switching-out from this known universe into an unknown one +would feel just like a ten-thousand volt jolt in an old-fashioned +electric chair; and now he could believe it. Every cell in his body had +begun tingling; his stomach pitched under a racking nausea; and an +involuntary trickle of saliva dripped from his mouth the moment he got +his jaws working again. + +But Lance fought the nausea, fought the sickness, and gradually as his +flesh accommodated to the change, he felt better. + +It was then that the most disturbing phenomenon of all took place. He +felt for a moment as if he had been split into two persons. No, four +persons, eight, sixteen, an infinity of other selves. They were all +beside him, in him and out of him. His eyes ached. He shut them. + +When he opened them again, everything was almost back to normal. The +other selves had vanished. Only the constant throbbing vibration of the +ship remained; yet it was a discomfort that had to be endured for four +solid straight weeks now. There was no other means known, by which a +man-made vessel could travel faster than light. + +Funny about that four weeks, too, thought Lance. All distances in +hyperspace were the same, no matter where you wished to go; it required +no more than fourteen days and no less, regardless of whether you jumped +one light-year or fifty. Lance had always understood there were +equations on file at HQ, which explained the paradox. But not being a +math expert, he had never missed not being allowed to see them. + +He flicked a switch and opened up his viewports again. The starry +universe had vanished. The _Cosmos XII_ was riding through a gray void. +Alone and-- + +No, it wasn't alone! + +Again, Lance's vision suffered a wrenching sickness. Out there in the +colorless vacuum, hundreds of replicas of the _Cosmos XII_ rode along +beside him, above him, below him, stretched out in all directions. + +There had been nothing in the manuals about this. + +Lance stared at the meaningless phenomenon for a long time despite the +fact it made his brain ill. At last, he decided it was harmless, +whatever was causing it. He shook his head slowly and closed the ports +down. He hoped Groombridge 34 would be less taxing. + + * * * * * + +The system was. + +After the ship reverted to normal space in the vicinity of Groombridge +34, Lance hovered about it exactly twelve hours, following all the +instructions in his manual to the letter. He started up the cameras and +other recording instruments. All went well, there were no incidents, no +vessels disturbed him; though had the two components of the binary been +at periastron, it would have simplified the work with the position +micrometer. If anything else of interest had been detected, it would +have to be deciphered from the film and tapes later. You can get as +close as four billion miles to an Earth-sized planet in space--and it'll +still show up fainter than a fourteenth magnitude star. + +Somewhere in the galaxy, Lance supposed, there must be other races +building spaceships and guiding them from sun to sun. But thus far, the +scout ships from Terra--for all their magnified caution--had never run +into signs of any. + +The old veteran hype-pilots had the best philosophy after all. Earth was +the choicest hunk of mud you were going to find. _Enjoy it, brethren._ + +Well, he would certainly live it up when he got back, Lance swore. He +would have his wedding; import Casey from the Club to spike the punch; +and, perhaps after he'd gotten in his required number of scout-missions, +he might even settle for a chair-borne exec's billet, himself. + +Exactly twenty-eight days and twelve hours from the time of his +departure from Earth, Lance Cooper was back home again. The _Cosmos XII_ +re-materialized out of hyperspace in the neighborhood of the Solar +System with its fuel tanks scarcely a third depleted, but its pilot a +drained man. Lance, truthfully, not only felt weary and torpid, but a +great deal disappointed. + +He contacted Traffic, asked for and got a landing trajectory. A few +hours later, he had coasted home and the trip was over. + +He scrambled down out of the ship, hungry for Carolyn. + +The base hadn't changed any in a month, that he could see. A couple of +new floodlights put in, perhaps. Some brass were emerging from the +control bunker. Colonel Sagen, several others. He recognized them all. +Two were SSP's--Space Service Police. + + * * * * * + +When the colonel got close, Lance tossed off a salute and an insouciant +grin: "Well, the Prodigal made it back home, sir. Hope that pessimistic +daughter of yours is stashed around somewhere. Otherwise--" + +"Otherwise, what?" returned the colonel, unsmiling. + +"Why I'm liable to go busting right through that fence," said Lance. +"And say, if anybody's worrying about the _Cosmos XII_, she flew like a +dream, colonel. Matter of fact, she--" + +Colonel Sagen's jaws snapped together. Wheeling, he barked at the two +SSP's: "Spacemen, arrest this officer! Immediately!" + +Lance couldn't believe his ears. + +"Hey, wait a minute!" he protested. "What have I done?" + +Nobody answered. Not at first. + +"Well?" Lance asked again, a little more uneasy this time. + +"I have no daughter, major," Hard-Head Sagen growled, standing with his +legs braced apart and his ramrod shoulders looking businesslike. "I +never have had." + +The space cops sprang forward. One drew a pistol, held it on the +returned pilot, while the other quickly moved behind Lance and pinioned +his arms back. + +"Is this a joke, colonel?" Lance demanded, struggling. "If it is, I +don't appreciate it. You know you've got a daughter, and I'm going to +marry her!" + +The colonel's jaws clamped tight; and he shook his head from side to +side, as if he were dealing with a person suddenly out of his mind. Then +he acted. + +"Put this man under close confinement," he ordered Lance's guards. +"Allow no visitors of any kind." The colonel's tone was harsh and +worried. "I've got to buck this matter to HQ. We can't have it blow up +right now, God knows." + +The space police nudged Lance. "All right, major. Let's go." + +Lance's anger seethed to a boil. Hunching his shoulders, he rammed back +against the guard holding him, sending him tumbling. What was inside his +mind to do if he managed an escape, he couldn't have told. He only knew +he had to get away. The colonel had flipped. + +And where, by the way, was Carolyn? It seemed impossible she could be in +on it, too. + +He stood free for a moment, watching warily. + +"Hold him!" shouted Colonel Sagen. "Don't let him run loose." + +"We got gas pills, colonel," suggested the space cop Lance had bowled +over. The man was rising to his feet. + +"Use them." + +Lance started to run. Over his shoulder, he saw the guard reach inside a +small pocket in his webbed pistol belt. The man gestured to the others +to duck back out of harm's way. Then, his throwing arm reared back and +sent a pellet sailing in a high arc. It landed at Lance's feet and burst +instantly. Yellowish gas billowed out. Its acrid fumes penetrated +Lance's throat and nostrils. He began coughing. Then, all the fight +suddenly ebbed from him. His knees buckled. He was stumbling, falling. +The sky reeled. + +And very indistinctly, from far away, came the colonel's voice, barking: +"Put him in the brig until he recovers. I repeat, let nobody see him. +And another thing--I declare everything that's happened here today +classified information. If a single word leaks out, I'll have every +man-jack among you placed in solitary and held for court-martial." + +Then, Lance knew nothing more. + + * * * * * + +When at last he recovered consciousness and was able to sit up in a kind +of groggy stupor, Lance found himself, for the first time in fifteen +service-devoted years, on the inside of a guardhouse looking out. + +With sardonic melancholy, he recalled times on his O.D. and O.G. tours +when he had inspected various prison areas, peered into the cells, and +often felt mildly sorry for some poor spaceman doing time for some minor +infraction. There had never been very many offenders. Discipline on +space bases was not a pressing problem: the corps was an elite branch +and intransigent candidates were weeded out quick. + +Well, now he was a prisoner, himself. He, Lance Cooper, Major, Space +Service, stood behind bars. And no matter how hard his face pressed +against those bars, he could only see as far as the corridor extended in +either direction. + +It wasn't far enough. + +Nor would anybody talk to him. He couldn't even get the time of day. + +Not since his probation as a plebe, had he consorted with such a bunch +of "hush-mouths." Had he no rights as a commissioned officer and a world +citizen? He still didn't know why he was incarcerated, or what +regulation he had broken. + +But that wasn't his most nagging worry. + +What preyed on his mind most was Carolyn. + +_Where was she?_ + +_Where? Where? WHERE?_ + +He could have lowered his head and pounded it to a pulp against the +wall, in his rage and frustration at being confined. But banging his +brains out wouldn't help. Besides, he was going to stand deeply in need +of his gray matter, if he hoped to get out of this one. + +At evening time, a guardhouse trusty brought him his supper on a tray. +Also, the man tossed him half a pack of cigarettes when Lance sought to +bum just one. But when the pilot started pitching questions back, the +trusty looked scared and unhappy and quickly limped away. + +The night dragged on, as unending seemingly as one of Luna's two-week +darkouts. Lance smoked, paced the cell from wall to wall, occasionally +plopped down on his cot and went over everything that had happened, +trying to find some pattern to it. + +But there was no pattern. + +Next morning, he splashed up and shaved beard away from a tired, +red-eyed face in the mirror. Then, he waited. No one came. + +Finally, at noon a new officer checked in for duty at the guardhouse. +Lance recognized him as a young ordinance captain he'd met before. He +called out to the man. The officer, striding down the hallway, wheeled +at the sound of his name and came back to the cell. His eyes bugged +slightly, when he saw Lance: "Holy smoke, major! What've they got you in +for?" + +"Search me." Lance was overjoyed to find someone, at last, who didn't +dummy up. "I thought maybe you might have a notion." + +"I just came on duty. But if there's a charge sheet lying around, I +might dig up something from it." + +"Would you try?" + +The captain held up two fingers and grinned. "No sweat." + + * * * * * + +Lance waited some more. + +The captain did not come back, however, until several hours later. After +Lance's evening meal, in fact. His face bore a puzzled frown. + +Lance stood at his cell door, gripping the bars. "Well?" + +"I checked. Seems the brass are holding you for observation until some +headshrinker gets in from HQ. A specialist in hyperspace medicine." + +"Then, how come I'm not in a regular hospital? Why the jailhouse?" + +"Beats me, major. I can tell you this, though. You're not the first +hype-pilot who's been dragged in here screaming." + +"But I wasn't screaming! I was perfectly calm and collected, when I +climbed down out of my ship. All I did was ask about Carolyn." + +"About who?" + +"Carolyn Sagen. Old Hard-Head's daughter." Lance felt a sinking feeling. +He stopped, cocked a wary eye at the other officer. "Don't look at me +that way, man." + +The captain had been staring hard at Lance. Now, he began shaking his +head back and forth, slowly and sadly. + +"What's that supposed to mean?" Lance asked. + +"It means Colonel Sagen doesn't have a daughter." + +Lance snorted. "Don't tell me that. I'm engaged to her." + +"Sorry, major. I've been around the colonel and his wife since I was a +kid. He got me the appointment to the Academy. They've never had any +children of their own." + +"Why, you--" Lance reached through the bars and grabbed the captain by +his shirt collar, jerking him against the bars. "It's a lie! A +conspiracy! Maybe you think I'm nuts. But I'm not!" He commenced +pummeling the captain with his free fist. Then he thought of something +better. He snatched the captain's gun from his holster and leveled it. + +[Illustration] + +"I'm getting out of here," Lance announced. "Open up this door--or take +the consequences!" + +The captain, his face ashy white, submitted and unlocked the cell door. +Lance stepped out, got behind the officer, and prodded him into the +cell. Tearing a sheet into strips, he tied the man to the cot and gagged +him. It took a very short time. + +Then, he softly padded down the hallway. He caught the sergeant of the +guard napping in his chair. In a moment, the sergeant, too, was trussed +up, gagged, and whisked into a spare cell. Lance then tucked the +captain's pistol inside his shirt and ventured outside. + +It was a moonlit night. A patrol jeep was parked on the drive, begging +to be commandeered. Lance hopped in. There was something he had to find +out for himself, and only one way to do it: Go to the place where they +kept the answers. + +Wheeling the jeep along the military street fast as he dared, Lance +headed for the base housing area. Colonel Sagen's trim two-story brick +residence was where he hoped to pay a call. He knew the route by heart. +He'd been a guest there often enough. + +The colonel's driveway was empty of cars, he was happy to notice, when +he reached the house. He parked, sprinted up to the porch, and knocked +on the door. + +Presently, footsteps sounded inside and the door opened a few inches. +But it was not Carolyn whom Lance saw peeping out at him. It was another +woman, older. He recognized Mrs. Sagen. + +Lance was blunt. "I've got to see Carolyn, and I haven't much time. +You'd better let me in." + +An apprehensive, almost shocked expression briefly flitted across the +face of Carolyn's mother. It was as if she had never set eyes on Lance +Cooper before. Even the gold oak leaves on his shoulders seemed to +reassure her but slightly. She kept the door chain in place between +them. + +"I'm sorry, major. I'm not sure that I understand you." + +"Don't malarky me, please. You know who I am and who I want. Carolyn, +your daughter." + +"Oh," said Mrs. Sagen. It was said in a way that revealed nothing. + +"Look," said Lance, impatiently. "You do have a daughter. I've dated +her. So, all right," he waved his hands, "she's been spirited away for +some reason. I still think I've got a right to know why." + +"Oh, my!" said Mrs. Sagen, and her hand flew to her face. "You must be +that scout-ship pilot who showed up yesterday. The one who--" + +"Yeh, the one everybody figures for psycho. But I'm not, Mrs. Sagen. You +know I'm not." Lance took a deep breath. "Can I come in? I just want +some facts. After all, this crazy farce can't go on forever." + +The colonel's wife still looked doubtful, but Lance Cooper had a way of +pressing a point hard when his interests were at stake. He began talking +rapidly and convincingly. + +He got in. + + * * * * * + +The light indoors was better. Lance's eyes squinted, as they adjusted +from the gloom of the porch. Somehow, Mrs. Sagen didn't look quite as he +remembered. Her hair was much darker now; he was sure of that. Maybe she +had dyed it. Yet her features were certainly harder and bonier. More +like a replica of her husband's. And her breath smelled alcoholic. Could +a mere month have made that much difference? + +The house had been refurnished too, Lance noticed. The living-room decor +was more severe and functional. And the pictures on the wall were +garish. Not Mrs. Sagen's type, at all. + +_Hey, wait a minute!_ he told himself; _speaking of pictures_--his +glance skipped to the far corner of the room. A triptych of photos of +Carolyn had always been on display on the mantelpiece. _They would prove +that--_ + +Lance's jaw dropped. + +The photos had been removed. + +"Can I get you anything?" Mrs. Sagen inquired. A little nervously, Lance +thought. "A cup of coffee?" + +"No, thanks. I'd rather hear about Carolyn." + +"Coffee won't take a minute. I was just making some fresh in the +kitchen." + +Lance shrugged. "Well, O.K., if you've already got it ready." + +Mrs. Sagen's mouth managed a fleeting smile; then she disappeared +through a swinging door. Lance sat down in a wrought-iron chair. Finding +it not comfortable, he sprang back to his feet and paced the floor. +There sure was something wrong about the colonel's house. Something very +oddly wrong. But he couldn't quite put his finger on it. + +Suddenly, his quickened hearing caught the faint murmur of a human +voice. Was it Carolyn? The talk seemed to be issuing from the +kitchen--where her mother had gone. Lance tiptoed across the room, +pushed the door slightly open. + +Mrs. Sagen was on the phone. Her voice was excited; she was obviously +straining to keep it at a low level. "I'm telling you, he's here! Right +in our living room. And he insists I know somebody named Carolyn ... +Yes, that's right. But do hurry ... Please. He's acting much odder than +the others did." + +Lance had eavesdropped enough. He turned away, glided rapidly out the +front door and into the night. + +Where should he go next? The jeep would serve to hustle him around the +base for a while--but eventually he would be chased down and recaptured. +And as for crashing any of the exit gates and thus attaining to greater +freedom, he knew they would all be barricaded and heavily manned by now. + +Lance was still burning over Mrs. Sagen's double-cross. Did he want +coffee? she had asked. _Coffee!_ his mind repeated, disgusted. What he +needed was something stronger. A good stiff drink. + +That was it! The Officers Club. Casey would be on duty at this hour. +Lance would ask him to mix him a double for old times' sake. Then, he'd +meekly surrender and quietly go crazy in his cell, until the +headshrinker came and confirmed it for real. + + * * * * * + +The pilot got back in the jeep and drove on. When he reached the Club, +he wheeled the vehicle around to a rear entrance where bushes made the +grounds shadier. Parking, he got out, strolled into the building as +sneakily as if he'd been an inspector-general paying a surprise call +from out of Space Service Headquarters. + +Few officers lounged about. Most were at tables and engrossed in their +own imbibing. Lance strode up to the bar, perched himself on a high +stool. Casey, whose hair was red as a Martian desert, was rinsing +glasses. He stopped at his task and came over, wiping the counter with a +wet towel. "What'll it be, major?" + +"One of your Specials, Casey, my friend." + +"Beg pardon?" + +"You know--one of your Casey Specials. Where you start off with half a +glass of Irish whisky, add a dash or two of absinthe, a drop of--" + +"I don't stock no absinthe, major." Casey's freckled face was abruptly +hostile. "You know that. It's against regulations." + +Lance fought down a tremor. Everybody was in on it. Everybody. He +compromised for a minute: "Give me a slug of Teacher's on the rocks, +then." + +Casey measured out the drink for him. + +Lance downed it. His hand gripped the edge of the bar. "Casey, do you +know me?" + +He watched Casey study him. The thick reddish eyebrows knit. "It's a +pretty big base, major. Lots of faces. Sometimes, I kind of forget the +names." + +Lance's blood pressure gave a spurt. "I'm Major Lance Cooper! Hell, +you've rung up my chits often enough!" + +And his mind added: _How could you forget?_ + +"Major." Casey's eyes narrowed, while the uneasy suspicion in them grew. +"We don't have no chit system at this club." + +Lance's head felt like it would explode. He could take no more. + +"You're lying!" he shouted. His big hands reached over the mahogany +counter and shook the bartender like a squawk-box that had refused to +function properly. "Tell me you're lying in your teeth. If you don't, +I'll push them down your throat--" + +Suddenly, Lance sensed people behind him. A firm hand clamped down +heavily on his shoulder. + +The pilot stretched his neck around. What now? His hands did not relax +their murderous grip on his victim. + +The arresting party had entered the club quietly. Now, they were ganged +up around him: Colonel Sagen, his two aides, a fourth man Lance +recognized as Major Carmody, the base legal officer--and a fifth man +too, who wore the insignia of the Space Surgeon-General's Department. A +psychiatrist. + +"Better come peacefully, major," rasped Colonel Sagen. "You've been +'cleared' for an explanation--and if you're smart, you'll listen to the +spiel and play ball." + +The way it was said made Lance feel he could trust the Old Man for that +long. Anyhow, what choice did he have? + +"It's about time," Lance sighed. He set Casey down, to the latter's +greatly exhaled relief. "Only how come all the suspense?" + +"It was very necessary," broke in Major Carmody. + +"Was it? Well, you had me about to crack--if that was your object. Now +then, would any of you mind easing my worries about Carolyn. She's O.K., +isn't she?" + +His glance shifted from one to the other. + +"Isn't she?" + +Nobody would reply--neither Colonel Sagen, nor any of the officers +bunched-up around him. + +Sweat suddenly broke out on Lance's brow. The chilly feeling went +through him that if and when an answer was provided him, he wasn't +particularly going to like it. + +Not in the slightest. + + * * * * * + +Shortly afterwards, Lance was driven across the base by his captors and +escorted into his commanding officer's private office. The two aides +were dismissed, but the psychiatrist-officer, who also wore eagles on +his shoulders, and Major Carmody remained. + +Colonel Sagen seated himself behind his desk. + +"Major," he began, clearing his throat, "you imagine me to have a +daughter. You're positive of it. You even visualize her so well, that +you remember something about how you were going to marry her." + +"You're not going to talk me out of anything on that score," Lance shot +back. + +"Perhaps, we don't intend to. Colonel Nordsen, here," Sagen indicated +the psychiatrist, "has flown in from HQ to chat with you. He can explain +the technical aspects of the phenomenon that has thrown you better than +I can. I'd advise you to listen to him. He's just what you need." + +"Just what I need? What else do you intend to do? Hypnotize me, so you +can erase all my past?" + +The colonel scowled. "Look here, major. You co-operate and learn to keep +your mouth shut, we may be able to restore you to duty. But if not ... +well, what happens then will be entirely up to Nordsen. It could mean a +padded cell. The development of hyperspace exploration has to go on, +whatever happens to you." + +"I'll tell you one thing to your face, colonel," Lance replied, hotly. +"I'm not off my rocker." + +"No one has maintained you were," broke in Colonel Nordsen. "But Colonel +Sagen had to throw a curtain around you fast." + +"Why?" + +Neither officer answered. + +Finally, Colonel Sagen said, "I think you'd better continue with him, +Colonel Nordsen." + +Nordsen was a youthful-looking man for his rank, yet prematurely +balding. He wore thick-shelled glasses. + +"Major Cooper," Nordsen began, "let's go back to when you put the +_Cosmos XII_ through its first jump through hyperspace. How well do you +recall your experience?" + +"I'll never forget it. You Earthbound kiwis should try it sometime." + +"Did you experience a feeling ... perhaps, rather uncanny ... that the +whole thing had happened to you before? What psychologists call the +sense of _deja vu_?" + +"No, I don't think so." + +"Perhaps some other type of phenomenon was manifested? A feeling you'd +been split in half, maybe." + +"That did happen." + +"Describe it." + +"It was more than just being split in half. I felt like I was suddenly +hundreds of selves. I could see other replicas of 'me' all around." + +Nordsen nodded, thoughtfully. "That was what we call the 'Infinite +Fission' syndrome. All those other 'you's' were personality matrices of +yourself in alternate worlds. Did you notice anything else?" + +Lance nodded, grudgingly. + + * * * * * + +"What?" + +"Look, colonel. If I answer your questions, will you answer mine?" + +"Any reasonable ones, yes. That's what we're here for." + +"Well, there was the disturbing thing about the _Cosmos XII_, itself. I +saw images of the ship riding along beside me, out there in the hype. +Where nothing material could possibly exist. Where not even light could +reflect back, or any other wave propagation." Lance shook his head, +recalling the experience. "What could have caused a hallucination like +that?" + +"It was no hallucination, Lance. It was real and has happened before. We +can rest you easy on that point." + +Colonel Nordsen removed tobacco from a pouch, stuffed his pipe, lit up. +Bluish smoke formed a halo about him. + +"Lance, the Space Service has been sending ships through hyperspace for +nearly two years now. Only recently did anybody notice something was +seriously wrong with the pilots who came back. Up until then ... oh, a +pilot might act a little queer for a day or two. But who wouldn't, +cooped up alone in a steel projectile for four weeks? We thought very +little of it." + +"Uh huh," was Lance Cooper's only comment. + +Nordsen transferred his pipe to his hand. "But eventually, even the +Space Service gets around to putting two and two together on the +slipstick. The incidents kept piling up. A pilot comes back from Epsilon +Eridani, for example, and insists on giving everybody left-handed +salutes. Another has taken a scout ship to 61 Cygni. He insists at the +Officers Club that Colonel Sagen here has a nickname of 'Old Hard-Head'. +Nobody else on the base is aware of any such thing. Then, still another +pilot--" + +"Wait a minute!" Lance interrupted. "Hasn't he?" + +"Hasn't what? I don't follow you." + +"Colonel Sagen. Hasn't he got that nickname? I mean, it was a term of +respect and liking, of course. But--" + +"No," said Nordsen. + +"No?" Lance echoed, disbelieving. "Since when?" + +"Not since _ever_, major. Not on this particular track." + +"Colonel Nordsen, you're losing me." + +"Patience, please. I was about to tell you that still another pilot +lands on our base, and he wears a blue tie. Claims the Space Service has +always worn blue ties." + +"I take it back," said Lance. "I'm a pilot and all pilots are slowly +going nuts." Then, it occurred to him to evince more interest or they +might ship him back to the brig sooner than expected. "A blue tie, huh?" + +"And blue suede chukkas, to match," Colonel Sagen's hoarse voice broke +in. "Most unmilitary-looking uniform I ever saw on a space officer." + +Colonel Nordsen, the psychiatrist, set his pipe aside. "Gradually, we +began building up a file of such weird discrepancies. Another pilot +landed wearing a handle-bar mustache. He couldn't possibly have grown so +much lip-hair in a month. Yet, the man claimed he'd sported the mustache +for years; and that every officer in his squadron was decked out with +one, too." + + * * * * * + +"Tell me just one thing," Lance pleaded. His nerves were gradually +getting more on edge. "What has all this got to do with Carolyn Sagen? +Why is she being kept from me?" + +Nordsen's eyebrows met, evincing a little displeasure. "Don't you get +the drift, major? I've been trying to accomplish two things at the same +time. Cushion a shock for you--and explain why what has happened has +happened. There is no Carolyn Sagen. The colonel and his wife have +always been childless." + +Lance got belligerent. "Say that again!" + +"There is no Carolyn Sagen here." + +"What d'you mean, when you say 'here'?" + +Nordsen took off his shell-rimmed glasses, wiped them, restored them to +his boyish face. "I would advise you to brace yourself. By 'here,' I +mean on this particular time-track." + +Lance stared at him. + +"Doesn't the word have any significance for you?" Nordsen asked. + +"Time-track? Sure, I've heard of the concept before. It's a theory that +parallel worlds branch off when ... hey!" Lance's tone rose to a shout. +"You're not trying to imply that ... that I'm on a diff--?" + +"That's right. We're trying to tell you that you have obviously landed +in another time-track. One that is parallel to--but just a slight bit +different from the one you formerly knew. To you, we seem to be the +same officers as in that world; but of course, we're not. It isn't the +same universe. Hyperspace is tricky stuff, as our men are finding out. +You've just got bounced around by one of the trickiest things connected +with it." + +Lance groaned. "Now, I'm told!" + +"I'm sorry. It's nothing new, only the information is classified +top-secret in our world; and evidently in yours, too. It has to be +withheld from hype-trainees, otherwise they might deliberately flunk +their course. We're running pilot classes here on our track, too. We +have to keep them filled." + +Lance was stunned. He hardly knew what he should say or do next. + +Finally, he put forth a faltering question: "Is there any way I can get +back to Home Base? _My_ home base?" + +All three officers in the room shook their heads in unison. + +"You might as well look for a pebble in the beach," said Nordsen. He +elucidated: "As a matter of fact, this _is_ Home Base for you. The +differences between one track and another are not usually too great; the +resemblances are many. Sometimes even, the returned pilot accommodates +himself to the new time-track without suspecting in the slightest what's +happened to him." + +"And in those cases, you seldom bother to enlighten him, I suppose." + +"Naturally not. Security frowns on it." + +"But in my case, you couldn't cover up." + +"Your case manifests a much more serious slippage. Your path, +evidently, warped to a track several million or billion worlds further +over than anybody from your world had previously experienced. +Consequently, your luck has really been unfortunate. You've materialized +out of hyperspace into a universe where someone you apparently knew +quite closely simply was never born." + +[Illustration] + +"But Carolyn did exist before ... where I was? I'm not dreaming." + +"No. Both our worlds are equally real." + + * * * * * + +Lance, though he felt the truth slowly and inexorably sink in, still +could not quite grasp all its implications. He turned his numbed face to +the other two officers in the room. Colonel Sagen and Major Carmody +inclined their heads. + +For one despairing moment, Lance felt almost like hurling himself +through the window. Then, he straightened up. His mouth compressed into +a thin line. "If I must face the facts, I must. But," his tone edged off +into irony, "it sure isn't easy. You'll have to give me time." + +Colonel Nordsen stood up, held out his hand. "I'm sorry, major, believe +me. This is a hard blow to take and I wouldn't care to be on the +receiving end, myself. But you'll adjust. If you like, I'll recommend +you for convalescent leave. You understand, of course," the psychiatrist +went on, "that we expect you to keep tight-lipped. Our hype-classes are +still too small. We need a lot of sharp men, and they have to be +volunteers. Right, Colonel Sagen?" + +"Right." + +Lance dropped the proffered hand. "I get it. Let the word get around how +hyperspace messes you up, all your bright young jets will bug out on it. +That's your main worry, isn't it? Not what happens to me." + +"Frankly, yes," Nordsen acknowledged, without blinking. "But the Space +Service is also concerned about individuals. Don't worry now, major. +We'll look after you." + +"Don't bother!" An uncontrolled bitterness crept into Lance's reply. +"Far as I'm concerned, the Space Service can go to hell. What reason +have I got to stay in it? You've conned me out of all that meant +anything in my life." + +Nobody said a word. + +Lance rose to his feet, unsteadily. His sardonic glance swept over them. +"I suppose it's back to the guardhouse for me now, huh? Well, I won't be +sorry to go. I'll find better company. And I refuse your bribe of +special leave-time." + +Colonel Nordsen seemed unaffected. "You're making a mistake," he said, +calmly. + +"Am I?" + +"Major, we're offering you a chance to get adjusted and assimilated. +Take it or leave it. We can hold you in the brig until you see reason. +But you're a good man. We need you." + +"For what? More flights through that hyperspace muck?" + +"If you can pass our mental stability tests, yes." + +"And if not?" + +"You'll be grounded." + +Lance made a sudden decision. + +"I want to go up right now." + +"What?" + + * * * * * + +"You heard me. I want to go up in the _Cosmos XII_ right now, tests or +no tests. Ground me--and I'll never have a chance again. Don't you think +I'm hep to that?" + +"We'll see that you're not grounded," broke in Colonel Sagen, from +behind his desk. + +But Lance didn't believe him. + +"Don't try to kid me, colonel," he snapped out. "You write me out flight +orders for the _Cosmos XII_, or I'll blab everything I know. You can't +hang me, you can't tear my tongue out--and I know I'll bust out of your +guardhouse one way or another! You'll see! And then, how will you fill +up your precious training classes? Then, how will you get new chumps to +pilot your ships to the stars? The stars! Ha, ha! That's the biggest +joke of all!" + +Colonel Sagen began to splutter. Lance, watching him carefully, decided +there wasn't much resemblance between the old boy and the fine Colonel +Sagen he'd known in his own world. Maybe it'd been having the softening +influence of normal family life and a growing daughter that had made old +Hard-Head human. + +"You'll never get away with this," Sagen warned. "We're three against +one." + +"Won't I?" Lance's hand darted inside his shirt. "Maybe this'll equalize +us." He brought out the pistol he'd taken off the captain in the +guardhouse. Sagen, Nordsen, and Carmody backed off from it. + +"The _Cosmos XII_ is still two-thirds fueled," Lance said. "And +well-stocked on provisions. Besides, I'm a light eater in hyperspace--as +who isn't? I intend to take that ship out again, and you're going to +help me, gentlemen." + +Lance flicked off the safety and waved the gun back and forth, to +demonstrate what he meant. + + * * * * * + +It worked. + +Lance got his ship, using Colonel Sagen as both shield and go-between +after he had first tied up the other two officers in a closet. He kept a +close watch, of course, for the SSP's and their gas pellets; but +apparently an alarm was not raised soon enough for the base police to +hurl into action. + +After having the colonel authorize a space clearance for him by +contacting Traffic directly over the ship's mike, Lance finally released +him. + +The colonel scooted down the ladder. Lance gave him time to clear the +pad, but little more; then he went to work pushing buttons on the manual +desk. The _Cosmos XII_ blasted loose from her moorings and soared aloft +into space. + +At five thousand miles above Earth's surface, Lance re-checked his +tapes. Groombridge 34 was the only possible destination the autopilot +could take him to. Somehow, he didn't mind taking one more look at the +double-star system. He cut into hyperspace as quickly as he dared; then +sat back and relaxed. That is, as much as any man could in hype. + +When he reached Groombridge 34, all Lance did was pop out into normal +space long enough to assure himself he had reached the proper checkpoint +for turning back. The tapes were in good order, and there had been no +hitches. Grunting, he threw in the switch-over and once more found +himself plowing through hyperspace. Only this time, he was homeward +bound. + +If he were lucky, just real lucky, he told himself, there might be a +Carolyn Sagen alive and waiting for him in whatever time-track he wound +up in this time. + +At last, he materialized again in the Solar System. Or _some_ Solar +System, anyhow. As far as he could tell, all the planets looked +unchanged. It was just four weeks to the day, since his escape from +World Two. This would be World Three. He had been gone eight weeks and +two days from World One. + +Lance cut the ecliptic at a different angle than before, and Terra was +farther along in her journey around Sol. He needed a new landing +trajectory. His eye swept his panel, to see if anything had been preset. +There was no green flashing on the deck, where there should have been +green. + +Oh, well. There could have been cruisers waiting in space, too, to pot +him with ship-to-ship missiles. He'd taken one chance, he could take +another. + +Lance opened a switch and called Base Traffic's frequency. "This is the +_Cosmos XII_, Major Lance Cooper piloting. Just broke out of hype. Can +you read me?" + +He repeated the message for several minutes. + +Finally, he got an answer. A startled voice whipped back at him through +crackling static: "_Cosmos XII_, this is Traffic. Who did you say you +were up there?" + + * * * * * + +Lance hardly knew whether he felt more like laughing or crying. He was +fairly close to home, anyhow. They did have space traffic here. And +being pretty much of an optimist, he also decided that it was a +time-track where he had been known. Only being so long overdue, he had +probably been given up for lost. + +On this premise, he could visualize all the consternation and excitement +now in progress downstairs; the personnel were likely falling all over +each other in the stampede to pass the word around. + +"I'm Major Lance Cooper," he announced over the mike. + +There was a long pause. + +"Repeat that, please." + +"This is Lance Cooper, Major, Space Service. I'm up here in the _Cosmos +XII_." + +"B-b-but you can't be." + +"Who says I can't. Say, what's the matter with you monkeys? I want to +come in." + +Another voice took over on the channel. "The lieutenant's right. You +actually do sound like Cooper, whoever you are!" + +Lance laughed openly. "I've lived with him all my life, why shouldn't I? +You think I'm a ghost?" + +"Well ... no. We know you're real. We're getting a blip from you. Only +thing is--" + +"Let's talk about it when I get down," Lance interrupted. "I need a +program fast. Get those G.S. computers working and read me an orbit." + +"W-will do." + +"And one more thing: Is Colonel Sagen around?" + +"Not today, major. He had to fly to Luna." + +"How about his daughter?" + +"Who?" + +_Oh, no!_ Lance felt his heart almost stop. Had the big try been for +nothing? He chanced a repeat. + +"His daughter. Carolyn Sagen." + +This time, he got results. + +"Oh! You mean Hard-Head's daughter. The one who ... say, wasn't she all +set to marry you?" + +"You bet your last commendation ribbon she was. And she's going to! +Hey!" Lance shouted. "Anything wrong with her? She's not sick or--" + +The voice of the first operator at Traffic came back on. "The captain +had to take off. No sir, major. She's not sick. We just don't know how +she's gonna take this, is all." + +"With bells on, Junior. Wedding bells! Get her out to meet me when I +land, will you? And snap it up on that trajectory." + +Again, the traffic crackled in Lance's ear. There seemed to be a great +deal of excitement going on down there. And then the great night rim of +Earth swung under him, blocking out further radio communication. + +Presently, a relayed beam from Luna came in. The Luna spaceport read him +a series of figures to punch into his autopilot. The new orbit would +edge him in close enough to Terra, that he could pick up an assist from +the G.A. system of his home base. + +Lance rubbed his hands together in his joy. He was cooking on all +burners, now. At last. + + * * * * * + +Six hours later, the _Cosmos XII_ settled down in her landing cradle. +Major Lance Cooper kicked open the air-lock door and began climbing down +to solid ground. + +It was just barely twilight. Ordinarily, there would have been long +purplish shadows at the far ends of the field; but now the entire space +base was flooded with lights. Were the beacons sweeping back and forth +just to welcome him? It hardly seemed possible. Yet, the apron itself, +was swarming with people. Here they came now! A whole mob racing towards +him, and the noise of their swelling shouts preceded them, rolling +forward like the breakers upon a shore. + +_Oh, oh! What was that in the far corner of the field?_ A big pile of +crumpled metal, already rusted and ready for the bulldozers. Some poor +devil had crashed his hype-ship. Lance wondered vaguely which of his +buddies it had been. Then he shut it out of his mind. + +A jeep swung out ahead of the advancing crowd and came speeding down +the concrete. Brakes squealed; rubber tires bit in hard, and the vehicle +plunged to a halt near him. Lance recognized Major Carmody in the +driver's seat. Or another Major Carmody. What difference did it make? +None, now that he was able to identify so very well the other figure in +the jeep--a slight blond figure in a trench coat seated next to Carmody. + +Carolyn! + +He saw her get out. He saw her commence walking towards him. But too +slowly, he thought. And he was too paralyzed to move. + +"Lance?" she called to him. "Is it you? Is it really you, darling?" + +The girl's step almost faltered. Major Carmody's hand reached out, +steadied her. + +Something was wrong again. But what? He could not guess. + +Lance came out of his paralysis. He began running towards her. + +And in a moment, they were in each other's arms without caring why or +how: Lance Cooper and the girl he loved. Kissing, hugging, unable to +believe for a moment in each other's reality. + +Then, Carolyn had to have breath and she drew apart for a moment. Then, +she kissed him again. And Lance, for the first time, listened and made +sense out of the welter of hysterical sobbing words that were pouring +forth: + +"Darling, darling, darling Lance! I cried so much, and now it's all +over. I don't care if you're not real. I love you, I love you! I don't +care if you are somebody from another time-track like Major Carmody +says! You're my Lance and you belong to me. It's you I love and want +now; no matter how shameless I sound!... Yes, darling, it's you I want, +not that poor broken thing we buried two months ago. Not the--" + +Lance's feeling of impending horror was great, but not so great that he +shrank from the question that now rose and beat and beat at his brain. +The overwhelming question that had to be asked. + +"Carolyn!" He held her so tight he thought for a moment he'd cracked her +ribs. His half-shook gaze penetrated her retreating eyes, forcing her to +meet him. + +"Carolyn! What do you mean--it's _me_ you want now, not that poor broken +thing you buried? Tell me. TELL ME!" + +"Don't you know, darling Lance? When you took off that night eight weeks +ago, that night I kissed you good-by, your ship ... oh don't you +comprehend?... Your ship, it--" + +"Tell me, Carolyn!" + +"Your ship, Lance, that's it over there--the wreckage of it! The _Cosmos +XII_ crashed on take-off that night, Lance. You were killed out-right. +We buried you two days later." + + +THE END + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Analog Science Fact and Science + Fiction_ April 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence + that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor + spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Next Door, Next World, by Robert Donald Locke + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NEXT DOOR, NEXT WORLD *** + +***** This file should be named 26205.txt or 26205.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/2/0/26205/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Dave Lovelace, Stephen Blundell +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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