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+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
+
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