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 thedistant stars. She was the _Cosmos XII_, newest and sleekest of theSpace Service's rapidly-expanding wing of interstellar scout ships, andshe was now ready for operational work. Major Lance Cooper, a big man with space-tanned features, stood in theshadow of the control bunker and watched the swarm of ground crewmenworking at last-minute speed atop the loading tower. Inside him burned ahunger, too. Hunger, and another emotion--pride. The pride swelled Lance's open-collared khaki shirt, as he envisionedhimself at the ship's controls within a few minutes. Finally, after longyears of study, sweat and dedication, he'd made it to the Big League. Nomore jockeying those tubby old rocket-pots to Luna! From here on, he wasgoing to see, taste, feel what the universe was like way, way out--inDeep Space. The _Cosmos XII_, like her earlier sisters, was designed toplow through that shuddery nowhere the cookbooks identified as"hyperspace. " Lance's glance shifted upward, scanning the velvet backdrop of frostywhite points of light against which the slender, silverish, almostwingless form stood framed. More stars than a man could visit in alifetime! 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 thislatitude; and Barnard's star, besides being far too faint, lay on theother side of the sun. But there shone Sirius, just as bright as it hadglittered 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 scientistsoutfitted to the eyebrows and trained to cope with any environment oremergency, would explore unknown jungles, _llanos_, steppes; tramp upand 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-probingarachnids--who knew what? But now, of course, all that Headquarters permitted of flights was themost furtive of reconnoitering. You hoisted your scout ship aloft underhigh-gee, cleared the ecliptic, then swung out of normal space and_jumped_. When you materialized in the new sector, you set your camerasclicking, toggled all the other instruments into recording radiation, gravity pressures, spectroscopy, at slam-bang speed. The very instantyour magnetic tapes got crammed to capacity, you pressed six dozen panicbuttons 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 thePeace--had enjoyed the billion-dollar thrill of viewing our Solar Systemfrom 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 aroundin the great black Cold out there. How was it they were alwayscompensating for their frustration? Now, he remembered. Having few tall tales to spellbind audiences with when they swooped backdown on Home Base after their missions, the hype-pilots got around it bybragging up Terra itself, and how at least you could always depend upongood old Earth to come up with something to relax this Warp-Wearygeneration! "Something, for example, such as we now hold in our hand, brothers!"Lance could hear them now. "Namely, one of these superbly-programmedcocktails, 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 betterconsolation can a man ask, for not having gotten to land at the apogeepoint of his orbit?" "Besides"--this usually came out after two or three moretongue-loosening toasts had been quaffed to the beasts ofHeadquarters--"what's so blasted special about landing on someGod-forsaken rock _out there_? "Hell's bells! Earth is a planet too, isn't it? And when you've beencooped up in a parsec-gobbling pot for a very, very long two weeks, anyplanet looming in your viewscope cries to be set down upon. Your ownprosaic hunk of mud is good as any!" * * * * * Lance Cooper's rambling thoughts broke off their aimless tracking toswing one hundred and eighty degrees in midspace and dart right back toEarth. Here at this very moment--and less than a hundred yards away--cameTerra's foremost attraction for him. His hammering heartbeat would haveplaced him on the "grounded" list immediately, had there been a medicowith a stethoscope hanging about to detect it. The attraction's name was Carolyn Sagen, and she was hurrying directlyacross the concrete apron. Even under the incandescent work-lamps of the crew scrambling up anddown the ladders, she looked as fetching as a video starlet making herfirst personal-appearance tour of the nation. Only the fact she wasColonel "Hard-Head" Sagen's family pride and joy kept the helmeted andhalf-puckered up techs on the rungs from whistling themselves dry intheir enthusiasm. Now, she had completely bypassed the work area. Here, the lighting didnot reach and the paler illumination of starshine took over. It seemedto render the girl's soft blond hair and her full warm lips moreintimately something belonging to Lance Cooper alone--and he liked that. He saw that she had turned up the collar of her tan coat against thenight wind. While still a step or two distant from him, Carolyn halted. Herworshiping eyes rested fully upon the big pilot. Lance thought hedetected a troubled expression. Then, the girl managed a tight smile that conveyed her outwardresignment to all Man's absurd aspirations to own the galaxy: "Don't worry about 'Security, ' Lance. Dad wrote me out an O. K. Toskitter up this close to the Launching Area. You know"--she gesturedself-consciously--"big crucial moment . . . Lovers' farewell . . . I pulledall 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 putup 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 noother way, I'd have clawed right through fence and revetments to get toyou! Men, men! Just because something's _out there_, as you say . . . Whyis it so important to build ships and go out and look at it?" Herfingers dug into Lance's shoulders. "Women are saner . . . But maybethat'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 herfrom the ground and her high-heeled shoes kicked in free fall. The pilot found his girl's breath warm, loving. Yet her cheeks seemedcolder than even the crisp air should account for. And her body wastrembling. He planted a second kiss, then set her down. "Hey! This is no way for a Space Service brat to carry on. Why, you'rejust about to--" "To cry, Lance? No, I wasn't. It's just that . . . You'll be gone solong. " He punched her playfully. "Two measly weeks out, two weeks to astrogateher back home. And once I've got my feet wet at it, it'll be likeshooting ducks in an alley. " Carolyn reached out, brushed a windswept tuft of hair from above therock-steady eyes that looked at her. "I know, Lance. I even realize that just ten years ago, women had to putup with separations from their sweethearts or husbands that lastedmonths. When the old pioneer ships used to limp back and forth to Marsand Venus. But I'm different, I guess. Weak, maybe. Or just plainscared--" 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'rescared. About what? My first flight?" Carolyn's head bobbed timidly. Lance flashed a reassuring grin. "Everything has to be a brand-newexperience, at some time or other. Me, I prefer to look at hype-flightfrom the point of view of the service. A routine thing. Just takestraining. Otherwise, " and he shrugged, "it's no more a risk than haulinggroceries upstairs to some weather satellite. " "Is it, Lance? When one or two ships out of every ten never make it backat all. Just disappear . . . Somewhere . . . While the others--" "One out of thirty or forty, you mean. So hyperspace is a littletricky. " "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'mdetermined to try awfully hard not to. " He added a slight qualificationto his statement. "I've always been pretty lucky up to now, at notgetting lost. " "I thought the guidance systems and the autopilot computers took care ofall 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 andangles you find in our own universe--" * * * * * Lance abruptly stopped, realizing he was quoting text; his mind gropedfor 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 arated mathematician. He'd fly hyperspace by the seat of his pants, if hehad to. "Lance, " said Carolyn. "Yes?" "You feel it too, don't you?" "Feel what?" "That there is danger involved. That something dreadfully, dreadfullywrong _can_ happen to you while you're out there. No matter what theeggheads say about it. " A paroxysm of sobs suddenly racked the girl'sslender 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 dateback. " Lance shook his head. "Sorry. I couldn't see it any other way. " He hugged the girl to him; she seemed more desperately frightened thanhe had realized. And again, as always when it came to comfortingsomebody, he felt as awkward and clumsy as some big lumbering repair-tugout 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. Neverthelesshe could keep on trying--blundering though his words and gestures mightbe. "Carolyn, you think I wanted to chance making you a widow twenty-fourhours after you became a bride?" Lance took a deep breath. "So I didmaintain the percentage wasn't great. Still, it does exist. I'm aware ofthat. 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 willpromise to do. " Hope cleared away some of the mistiness in Carolyn's eyes. She looked upat him. "What, Lance?" "Once I've knocked off my shell-back trip through the hype, we'll stagethe fanciest wedding this old space base ever goggled its eyes over. I'll even see to it, the chaplain samples the spiked punch. And youremember what a raconteur the padre proved to be when Light-ColonelGalache got spliced?" Carolyn Sagen managed a wan smile. Lance revved his pep-talk up a few hundred r. P. M. "After all, think ofit this way. Suppose I hadn't beat my brains out to get intohype-training? I'd never have wound up at this base. You and me wouldnever have met. I'd never have fallen for you like a ton ofspace-ballast. " "Oh, I know you're right, " said Carolyn, clinging more tightly than everto Lance's solid frame. "You're always right, just like the SpaceService is always right. But I have a woman's intuition. And I . . . Isense--" Unable to finish, she released her grasp and once more withdrew intoherself. * * * * * 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 thebriny shine from the girl's cheeks as he talked, his own voice gettinghoarser. "Carolyn, I love you so much that I . . . Well, you know I happento 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. Icouldn't, baby. I'd probably be court-martialed, anyhow, " he added. "No, Lance. They wouldn't do that. Not unless you actually got intospace, 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 suddenurgency now tinged her voice. "Strange unfathomable things. Many of theother pilots who've come back have not been right. I think it hassomething to do with their having been outside of normal space--" He stared at her. "I just now realize you're trying to tell mesomething. " "Lance, I happened to overhear Dad telling Mother something one night. Apparently, he'd been rolling and tossing in bed, couldn't sleep. AndMother'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 backto 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 ofanything 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 ofhyperspace. At the Club and in my training, both. Sure, a man feels likehe's been crammed into a concrete mixer when he's burning up light-yearsin a hyper ship. But after a while, I'm told, even your brains get usedto being bounced around. " Lance took the girl's hands and squeezed thembetween his. "So let's not worry, huh?" Carolyn started to say something in rebuttal, but her father and hisaides were already upon them. Colonel Sagen was a tall thin man of erect military carriage. Hisfeatures were crisscrossed with radiation scars and his voice boomed outlike 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 thatmany scientists and techs: a tough job, and one that he was giving hisbest. After returning Major Lance Cooper's brisk salute, the colonel unbentand gave his prospective son-in-law a hardy handshake. "Lance, I hope you'll be able to keep more of a rein on this littlespace-filly of mine, than I've been able to. She was determined to seeyou off. " "I was glad to see her, colonel. " The colonel smiled. "Can't think of a man on this base I'd rather turnCarolyn 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 inhis hair!" One of the colonel's aides glanced at his watch, then opened up a briefcase and took out a sealed envelope. The colonel relieved him of it andhanded 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 ofluck, 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 activespace 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 backagainst gravity, looked up at the sweep hands on the control deck clocksand 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. Gyroswere caged; the tapes were set to roll. Lance's big hands hoveredlightly near the manual over-rides. He was ready to fly, and theautopilot lights were already winking out in count-down. But you nevercould 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 risingship take hold; gently at first as she cleared the ground; then heavierand heavier, until his face felt like a rubber mask under theacceleration and his heart commenced pounding. It didn't take long these days for any ship to build up a tremendousvelocity in space. Lance cleared the ecliptic by a hundred millionmiles; then with the Solar System spread out flat below him, he openedup his flight orders. His destination, he discovered, was Groombridge34, a visual double star. Right ascension: zero hours, thirteen minutes. Declination: forty-three and four-tenths degrees. Nearly twelvelight-years distant. Since the star's apparent location was nearly halfway up the sky fromthe celestial equator, Lance could begin the jump any time and not worryon his way about skewing too near the gravitational field of anylarge-massed body in his own immediate vicinity. He permitted himself one brief glance at the blazing universe that hungall about him: the bright fixed lights that were innumerable sunsagainst an eternal blackness, and the luminous dust in between that waseven farther-flung. Confusion and chaos seemed to dwell here; if a mangazed too long, he could quietly go mad. But even more insane, heanticipated, would be the thick, writhing nothingness of hyperspace. Lance Cooper made one final check of all the ship's operatingcomponents; then crossed his fingers and cut in the hype-drive. Instantly, his teeth crashed together and clenched; his strapped-in bodywas jerked back in its cushioned seat; sweat beaded his brow. A thousandneedles prickling his skin couldn't have been worse. He had been toldonce that the switching-out from this known universe into an unknown onewould feel just like a ten-thousand volt jolt in an old-fashionedelectric chair; and now he could believe it. Every cell in his body hadbegun tingling; his stomach pitched under a racking nausea; and aninvoluntary trickle of saliva dripped from his mouth the moment he gothis jaws working again. But Lance fought the nausea, fought the sickness, and gradually as hisflesh accommodated to the change, he felt better. It was then that the most disturbing phenomenon of all took place. Hefelt for a moment as if he had been split into two persons. No, fourpersons, eight, sixteen, an infinity of other selves. They were allbeside him, in him and out of him. His eyes ached. He shut them. When he opened them again, everything was almost back to normal. Theother selves had vanished. Only the constant throbbing vibration of theship remained; yet it was a discomfort that had to be endured for foursolid straight weeks now. There was no other means known, by which aman-made vessel could travel faster than light. Funny about that four weeks, too, thought Lance. All distances inhyperspace were the same, no matter where you wished to go; it requiredno more than fourteen days and no less, regardless of whether you jumpedone light-year or fifty. Lance had always understood there wereequations on file at HQ, which explained the paradox. But not being amath expert, he had never missed not being allowed to see them. He flicked a switch and opened up his viewports again. The starryuniverse 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 thecolorless vacuum, hundreds of replicas of the _Cosmos XII_ rode alongbeside 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 thefact it made his brain ill. At last, he decided it was harmless, whatever was causing it. He shook his head slowly and closed the portsdown. He hoped Groombridge 34 would be less taxing. * * * * * The system was. After the ship reverted to normal space in the vicinity of Groombridge34, Lance hovered about it exactly twelve hours, following all theinstructions in his manual to the letter. He started up the cameras andother recording instruments. All went well, there were no incidents, novessels disturbed him; though had the two components of the binary beenat periastron, it would have simplified the work with the positionmicrometer. If anything else of interest had been detected, it wouldhave to be deciphered from the film and tapes later. You can get asclose as four billion miles to an Earth-sized planet in space--and it'llstill show up fainter than a fourteenth magnitude star. Somewhere in the galaxy, Lance supposed, there must be other racesbuilding spaceships and guiding them from sun to sun. But thus far, thescout ships from Terra--for all their magnified caution--had never runinto signs of any. The old veteran hype-pilots had the best philosophy after all. Earth wasthe 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. Hewould 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 hisdeparture from Earth, Lance Cooper was back home again. The _Cosmos XII_re-materialized out of hyperspace in the neighborhood of the SolarSystem with its fuel tanks scarcely a third depleted, but its pilot adrained man. Lance, truthfully, not only felt weary and torpid, but agreat deal disappointed. He contacted Traffic, asked for and got a landing trajectory. A fewhours 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 ofnew floodlights put in, perhaps. Some brass were emerging from thecontrol 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 insouciantgrin: "Well, the Prodigal made it back home, sir. Hope that pessimisticdaughter 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 adream, colonel. Matter of fact, she--" Colonel Sagen's jaws snapped together. Wheeling, he barked at the twoSSP'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 hislegs braced apart and his ramrod shoulders looking businesslike. "Inever have had. " The space cops sprang forward. One drew a pistol, held it on thereturned pilot, while the other quickly moved behind Lance and pinionedhis arms back. "Is this a joke, colonel?" Lance demanded, struggling. "If it is, Idon't appreciate it. You know you've got a daughter, and I'm going tomarry her!" The colonel's jaws clamped tight; and he shook his head from side toside, as if he were dealing with a person suddenly out of his mind. Thenhe acted. "Put this man under close confinement, " he ordered Lance's guards. "Allow no visitors of any kind. " The colonel's tone was harsh andworried. "I've got to buck this matter to HQ. We can't have it blow upright 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 backagainst the guard holding him, sending him tumbling. What was inside hismind to do if he managed an escape, he couldn't have told. He only knewhe had to get away. The colonel had flipped. And where, by the way, was Carolyn? It seemed impossible she could be inon 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 bowledover. The man was rising to his feet. "Use them. " Lance started to run. Over his shoulder, he saw the guard reach inside asmall pocket in his webbed pistol belt. The man gestured to the othersto duck back out of harm's way. Then, his throwing arm reared back andsent a pellet sailing in a high arc. It landed at Lance's feet and burstinstantly. Yellowish gas billowed out. Its acrid fumes penetratedLance's throat and nostrils. He began coughing. Then, all the fightsuddenly 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 todayclassified information. If a single word leaks out, I'll have everyman-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 kindof groggy stupor, Lance found himself, for the first time in fifteenservice-devoted years, on the inside of a guardhouse looking out. With sardonic melancholy, he recalled times on his O. D. And O. G. Tourswhen he had inspected various prison areas, peered into the cells, andoften felt mildly sorry for some poor spaceman doing time for some minorinfraction. There had never been very many offenders. Discipline onspace bases was not a pressing problem: the corps was an elite branchand intransigent candidates were weeded out quick. Well, now he was a prisoner, himself. He, Lance Cooper, Major, SpaceService, stood behind bars. And no matter how hard his face pressedagainst those bars, he could only see as far as the corridor extended ineither 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 bunchof "hush-mouths. " Had he no rights as a commissioned officer and a worldcitizen? He still didn't know why he was incarcerated, or whatregulation 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 thewall, in his rage and frustration at being confined. But banging hisbrains out wouldn't help. Besides, he was going to stand deeply in needof 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 tobum just one. But when the pilot started pitching questions back, thetrusty looked scared and unhappy and quickly limped away. The night dragged on, as unending seemingly as one of Luna's two-weekdarkouts. Lance smoked, paced the cell from wall to wall, occasionallyplopped 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. Hecalled out to the man. The officer, striding down the hallway, wheeledat the sound of his name and came back to the cell. His eyes buggedslightly, when he saw Lance: "Holy smoke, major! What've they got you infor?" "Search me. " Lance was overjoyed to find someone, at last, who didn'tdummy up. "I thought maybe you might have a notion. " "I just came on duty. But if there's a charge sheet lying around, Imight 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. AfterLance'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 someheadshrinker 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 firsthype-pilot who's been dragged in here screaming. " "But I wasn't screaming! I was perfectly calm and collected, when Iclimbed 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 methat way, man. " The captain had been staring hard at Lance. Now, he began shaking hishead 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 akid. He got me the appointment to the Academy. They've never had anychildren of their own. " "Why, you--" Lance reached through the bars and grabbed the captain byhis shirt collar, jerking him against the bars. "It's a lie! Aconspiracy! Maybe you think I'm nuts. But I'm not!" He commencedpummeling the captain with his free fist. Then he thought of somethingbetter. 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 takethe consequences!" The captain, his face ashy white, submitted and unlocked the cell door. Lance stepped out, got behind the officer, and prodded him into thecell. Tearing a sheet into strips, he tied the man to the cot and gaggedhim. It took a very short time. Then, he softly padded down the hallway. He caught the sergeant of theguard napping in his chair. In a moment, the sergeant, too, was trussedup, gagged, and whisked into a spare cell. Lance then tucked thecaptain's pistol inside his shirt and ventured outside. It was a moonlit night. A patrol jeep was parked on the drive, beggingto be commandeered. Lance hopped in. There was something he had to findout for himself, and only one way to do it: Go to the place where theykept the answers. Wheeling the jeep along the military street fast as he dared, Lanceheaded for the base housing area. Colonel Sagen's trim two-story brickresidence 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, whenhe reached the house. He parked, sprinted up to the porch, and knockedon 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 anotherwoman, 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 theface of Carolyn's mother. It was as if she had never set eyes on LanceCooper before. Even the gold oak leaves on his shoulders seemed toreassure her but slightly. She kept the door chain in place betweenthem. "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 datedher. So, all right, " he waved his hands, "she's been spirited away forsome 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 bethat scout-ship pilot who showed up yesterday. The one who--" "Yeh, the one everybody figures for psycho. But I'm not, Mrs. Sagen. Youknow I'm not. " Lance took a deep breath. "Can I come in? I just wantsome facts. After all, this crazy farce can't go on forever. " The colonel's wife still looked doubtful, but Lance Cooper had a way ofpressing a point hard when his interests were at stake. He began talkingrapidly and convincingly. He got in. * * * * * The light indoors was better. Lance's eyes squinted, as they adjustedfrom the gloom of the porch. Somehow, Mrs. Sagen didn't look quite as heremembered. Her hair was much darker now; he was sure of that. Maybe shehad dyed it. Yet her features were certainly harder and bonier. Morelike a replica of her husband's. And her breath smelled alcoholic. Coulda mere month have made that much difference? The house had been refurnished too, Lance noticed. The living-room decorwas more severe and functional. And the pictures on the wall weregarish. Not Mrs. Sagen's type, at all. _Hey, wait a minute!_ he told himself; _speaking of pictures_--hisglance skipped to the far corner of the room. A triptych of photos ofCarolyn had always been on display on the mantelpiece. _They would provethat--_ Lance's jaw dropped. The photos had been removed. "Can I get you anything?" Mrs. Sagen inquired. A little nervously, Lancethought. "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 thekitchen. " Lance shrugged. "Well, O. K. , if you've already got it ready. " Mrs. Sagen's mouth managed a fleeting smile; then she disappearedthrough a swinging door. Lance sat down in a wrought-iron chair. Findingit not comfortable, he sprang back to his feet and paced the floor. There sure was something wrong about the colonel's house. Something veryoddly wrong. But he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Suddenly, his quickened hearing caught the faint murmur of a humanvoice. Was it Carolyn? The talk seemed to be issuing from thekitchen--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 obviouslystraining to keep it at a low level. "I'm telling you, he's here! Rightin our living room. And he insists I know somebody named Carolyn . . . Yes, that's right. But do hurry . . . Please. He's acting much odder thanthe others did. " Lance had eavesdropped enough. He turned away, glided rapidly out thefront door and into the night. Where should he go next? The jeep would serve to hustle him around thebase 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 greaterfreedom, he knew they would all be barricaded and heavily manned by now. Lance was still burning over Mrs. Sagen's double-cross. Did he wantcoffee? she had asked. _Coffee!_ his mind repeated, disgusted. What heneeded 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'dmeekly surrender and quietly go crazy in his cell, until theheadshrinker 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 thegrounds shadier. Parking, he got out, strolled into the building assneakily as if he'd been an inspector-general paying a surprise callfrom out of Space Service Headquarters. Few officers lounged about. Most were at tables and engrossed in theirown imbibing. Lance strode up to the bar, perched himself on a highstool. Casey, whose hair was red as a Martian desert, was rinsingglasses. He stopped at his task and came over, wiping the counter with awet 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 aglass 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 abruptlyhostile. "You know that. It's against regulations. " Lance fought down a tremor. Everybody was in on it. Everybody. Hecompromised 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 youknow me?" He watched Casey study him. The thick reddish eyebrows knit. "It's apretty big base, major. Lots of faces. Sometimes, I kind of forget thenames. " 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 mahoganycounter and shook the bartender like a squawk-box that had refused tofunction 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 downheavily on his shoulder. The pilot stretched his neck around. What now? His hands did not relaxtheir murderous grip on his victim. The arresting party had entered the club quietly. Now, they were gangedup around him: Colonel Sagen, his two aides, a fourth man Lancerecognized as Major Carmody, the base legal officer--and a fifth mantoo, who wore the insignia of the Space Surgeon-General's Department. Apsychiatrist. "Better come peacefully, major, " rasped Colonel Sagen. "You've been'cleared' for an explanation--and if you're smart, you'll listen to thespiel and play ball. " The way it was said made Lance feel he could trust the Old Man for thatlong. Anyhow, what choice did he have? "It's about time, " Lance sighed. He set Casey down, to the latter'sgreatly 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. Nowthen, 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 officersbunched-up around him. Sweat suddenly broke out on Lance's brow. The chilly feeling wentthrough him that if and when an answer was provided him, he wasn'tparticularly going to like it. Not in the slightest. * * * * * Shortly afterwards, Lance was driven across the base by his captors andescorted into his commanding officer's private office. The two aideswere dismissed, but the psychiatrist-officer, who also wore eagles onhis shoulders, and Major Carmody remained. Colonel Sagen seated himself behind his desk. "Major, " he began, clearing his throat, "you imagine me to have adaughter. You're positive of it. You even visualize her so well, thatyou remember something about how you were going to marry her. " "You're not going to talk me out of anything on that score, " Lance shotback. "Perhaps, we don't intend to. Colonel Nordsen, here, " Sagen indicatedthe psychiatrist, "has flown in from HQ to chat with you. He can explainthe technical aspects of the phenomenon that has thrown you better thanI 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 youcan erase all my past?" The colonel scowled. "Look here, major. You co-operate and learn to keepyour 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 apadded 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 ColonelSagen 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 prematurelybalding. 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 yourecall your experience?" "I'll never forget it. You Earthbound kiwis should try it sometime. " "Did you experience a feeling . . . Perhaps, rather uncanny . . . That thewhole thing had happened to you before? What psychologists call thesense of _déjà vu_?" "No, I don't think so. " "Perhaps some other type of phenomenon was manifested? A feeling you'dbeen split in half, maybe. " "That did happen. " "Describe it. " "It was more than just being split in half. I felt like I was suddenlyhundreds of selves. I could see other replicas of 'me' all around. " Nordsen nodded, thoughtfully. "That was what we call the 'InfiniteFission' syndrome. All those other 'you's' were personality matrices ofyourself 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. Isaw images of the ship riding along beside me, out there in the hype. Where nothing material could possibly exist. Where not even light couldreflect back, or any other wave propagation. " Lance shook his head, recalling the experience. "What could have caused a hallucination likethat?" "It was no hallucination, Lance. It was real and has happened before. Wecan 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 fornearly two years now. Only recently did anybody notice something wasseriously wrong with the pilots who came back. Up until then . . . Oh, apilot 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 verylittle of it. " "Uh huh, " was Lance Cooper's only comment. Nordsen transferred his pipe to his hand. "But eventually, even theSpace Service gets around to putting two and two together on theslipstick. The incidents kept piling up. A pilot comes back from EpsilonEridani, for example, and insists on giving everybody left-handedsalutes. Another has taken a scout ship to 61 Cygni. He insists at theOfficers 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 anotherpilot--" "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 ofrespect 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 pilotlands on our base, and he wears a blue tie. Claims the Space Service hasalways worn blue ties. " "I take it back, " said Lance. "I'm a pilot and all pilots are slowlygoing nuts. " Then, it occurred to him to evince more interest or theymight ship him back to the brig sooner than expected. "A blue tie, huh?" "And blue suede chukkas, to match, " Colonel Sagen's hoarse voice brokein. "Most unmilitary-looking uniform I ever saw on a space officer. " Colonel Nordsen, the psychiatrist, set his pipe aside. "Gradually, webegan building up a file of such weird discrepancies. Another pilotlanded wearing a handle-bar mustache. He couldn't possibly have grown somuch lip-hair in a month. Yet, the man claimed he'd sported the mustachefor years; and that every officer in his squadron was decked out withone, too. " * * * * * "Tell me just one thing, " Lance pleaded. His nerves were graduallygetting 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 getthe drift, major? I've been trying to accomplish two things at the sametime. Cushion a shock for you--and explain why what has happened hashappened. There is no Carolyn Sagen. The colonel and his wife havealways 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 tohis boyish face. "I would advise you to brace yourself. By 'here, ' Imean 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 thatparallel 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 landedin another time-track. One that is parallel to--but just a slight bitdifferent from the one you formerly knew. To you, we seem to be thesame officers as in that world; but of course, we're not. It isn't thesame universe. Hyperspace is tricky stuff, as our men are finding out. You've just got bounced around by one of the trickiest things connectedwith it. " Lance groaned. "Now, I'm told!" "I'm sorry. It's nothing new, only the information is classifiedtop-secret in our world; and evidently in yours, too. It has to bewithheld from hype-trainees, otherwise they might deliberately flunktheir course. We're running pilot classes here on our track, too. Wehave 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 getback 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. Heelucidated: "As a matter of fact, this _is_ Home Base for you. Thedifferences between one track and another are not usually too great; theresemblances are many. Sometimes even, the returned pilot accommodateshimself to the new time-track without suspecting in the slightest what'shappened 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 furtherover than anybody from your world had previously experienced. Consequently, your luck has really been unfortunate. You've materializedout of hyperspace into a universe where someone you apparently knewquite 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, stillcould not quite grasp all its implications. He turned his numbed face tothe other two officers in the room. Colonel Sagen and Major Carmodyinclined their heads. For one despairing moment, Lance felt almost like hurling himselfthrough the window. Then, he straightened up. His mouth compressed intoa thin line. "If I must face the facts, I must. But, " his tone edged offinto 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, believeme. This is a hard blow to take and I wouldn't care to be on thereceiving end, myself. But you'll adjust. If you like, I'll recommendyou for convalescent leave. You understand, of course, " the psychiatristwent on, "that we expect you to keep tight-lipped. Our hype-classes arestill too small. We need a lot of sharp men, and they have to bevolunteers. Right, Colonel Sagen?" "Right. " Lance dropped the proffered hand. "I get it. Let the word get around howhyperspace 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 SpaceService 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 reasonhave I got to stay in it? You've conned me out of all that meantanything 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 besorry to go. I'll find better company. And I refuse your bribe ofspecial 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 orno tests. Ground me--and I'll never have a chance again. Don't you thinkI'm hep to that?" "We'll see that you're not grounded, " broke in Colonel Sagen, frombehind his desk. But Lance didn't believe him. "Don't try to kid me, colonel, " he snapped out. "You write me out flightorders for the _Cosmos XII_, or I'll blab everything I know. You can'thang me, you can't tear my tongue out--and I know I'll bust out of yourguardhouse one way or another! You'll see! And then, how will you fillup your precious training classes? Then, how will you get new chumps topilot your ships to the stars? The stars! Ha, ha! That's the biggestjoke of all!" Colonel Sagen began to splutter. Lance, watching him carefully, decidedthere wasn't much resemblance between the old boy and the fine ColonelSagen he'd known in his own world. Maybe it'd been having the softeninginfluence of normal family life and a growing daughter that had made oldHard-Head human. "You'll never get away with this, " Sagen warned. "We're three againstone. " "Won't I?" Lance's hand darted inside his shirt. "Maybe this'll equalizeus. " He brought out the pistol he'd taken off the captain in theguardhouse. Sagen, Nordsen, and Carmody backed off from it. "The _Cosmos XII_ is still two-thirds fueled, " Lance said. "Andwell-stocked on provisions. Besides, I'm a light eater in hyperspace--aswho isn't? I intend to take that ship out again, and you're going tohelp me, gentlemen. " Lance flicked off the safety and waved the gun back and forth, todemonstrate what he meant. * * * * * It worked. Lance got his ship, using Colonel Sagen as both shield and go-betweenafter he had first tied up the other two officers in a closet. He kept aclose watch, of course, for the SSP's and their gas pellets; butapparently an alarm was not raised soon enough for the base police tohurl into action. After having the colonel authorize a space clearance for him bycontacting Traffic directly over the ship's mike, Lance finally releasedhim. The colonel scooted down the ladder. Lance gave him time to clear thepad, but little more; then he went to work pushing buttons on the manualdesk. The _Cosmos XII_ blasted loose from her moorings and soared aloftinto space. At five thousand miles above Earth's surface, Lance re-checked histapes. Groombridge 34 was the only possible destination the autopilotcould take him to. Somehow, he didn't mind taking one more look at thedouble-star system. He cut into hyperspace as quickly as he dared; thensat 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 normalspace long enough to assure himself he had reached the proper checkpointfor turning back. The tapes were in good order, and there had been nohitches. Grunting, he threw in the switch-over and once more foundhimself plowing through hyperspace. Only this time, he was homewardbound. If he were lucky, just real lucky, he told himself, there might be aCarolyn Sagen alive and waiting for him in whatever time-track he woundup in this time. At last, he materialized again in the Solar System. Or _some_ SolarSystem, anyhow. As far as he could tell, all the planets lookedunchanged. It was just four weeks to the day, since his escape fromWorld Two. This would be World Three. He had been gone eight weeks andtwo days from World One. Lance cut the ecliptic at a different angle than before, and Terra wasfarther along in her journey around Sol. He needed a new landingtrajectory. His eye swept his panel, to see if anything had been preset. There was no green flashing on the deck, where there should have beengreen. Oh, well. There could have been cruisers waiting in space, too, to pothim with ship-to-ship missiles. He'd taken one chance, he could takeanother. Lance opened a switch and called Base Traffic's frequency. "This is the_Cosmos XII_, Major Lance Cooper piloting. Just broke out of hype. Canyou read me?" He repeated the message for several minutes. Finally, he got an answer. A startled voice whipped back at him throughcrackling static: "_Cosmos XII_, this is Traffic. Who did you say youwere up there?" * * * * * Lance hardly knew whether he felt more like laughing or crying. He wasfairly close to home, anyhow. They did have space traffic here. Andbeing pretty much of an optimist, he also decided that it was atime-track where he had been known. Only being so long overdue, he hadprobably been given up for lost. On this premise, he could visualize all the consternation and excitementnow in progress downstairs; the personnel were likely falling all overeach 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 _CosmosXII_. " "B-b-but you can't be. " "Who says I can't. Say, what's the matter with you monkeys? I want tocome in. " Another voice took over on the channel. "The lieutenant's right. Youactually 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. Onlything is--" "Let's talk about it when I get down, " Lance interrupted. "I need aprogram 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 fornothing? 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 allset 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 captainhad to take off. No sir, major. She's not sick. We just don't know howshe's gonna take this, is all. " "With bells on, Junior. Wedding bells! Get her out to meet me when Iland, will you? And snap it up on that trajectory. " Again, the traffic crackled in Lance's ear. There seemed to be a greatdeal of excitement going on down there. And then the great night rim ofEarth swung under him, blocking out further radio communication. Presently, a relayed beam from Luna came in. The Luna spaceport read hima series of figures to punch into his autopilot. The new orbit wouldedge him in close enough to Terra, that he could pick up an assist fromthe G. A. System of his home base. Lance rubbed his hands together in his joy. He was cooking on allburners, 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 downto solid ground. It was just barely twilight. Ordinarily, there would have been longpurplish shadows at the far ends of the field; but now the entire spacebase was flooded with lights. Were the beacons sweeping back and forthjust to welcome him? It hardly seemed possible. Yet, the apron itself, was swarming with people. Here they came now! A whole mob racing towardshim, and the noise of their swelling shouts preceded them, rollingforward like the breakers upon a shore. _Oh, oh! What was that in the far corner of the field?_ A big pile ofcrumpled metal, already rusted and ready for the bulldozers. Some poordevil had crashed his hype-ship. Lance wondered vaguely which of hisbuddies it had been. Then he shut it out of his mind. A jeep swung out ahead of the advancing crowd and came speeding downthe concrete. Brakes squealed; rubber tires bit in hard, and the vehicleplunged to a halt near him. Lance recognized Major Carmody in thedriver'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 inthe 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 tooslowly, 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 orhow: Lance Cooper and the girl he loved. Kissing, hugging, unable tobelieve 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 madesense out of the welter of hysterical sobbing words that were pouringforth: "Darling, darling, darling Lance! I cried so much, and now it's allover. I don't care if you're not real. I love you, I love you! I don'tcare if you are somebody from another time-track like Major Carmodysays! You're my Lance and you belong to me. It's you I love and wantnow; 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 heshrank 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 herribs. His half-shook gaze penetrated her retreating eyes, forcing her tomeet him. "Carolyn! What do you mean--it's _me_ you want now, not that poor brokenthing you buried? Tell me. TELL ME!" "Don't you know, darling Lance? When you took off that night eight weeksago, that night I kissed you good-by, your ship . . . Oh don't youcomprehend?. . . Your ship, it--" "Tell me, Carolyn!" "Your ship, Lance, that's it over there--the wreckage of it! The _CosmosXII_ 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.