* * * *
"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."
"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 th
e 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.
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