"The chronometer, man! Has it touched 9.14?"
"Yes, sir. But--but we're slipping into the negative, Lanse! We've
escaped one death to find another!"
But there was infinite sadness to Lancelot Biggs' denial.
"No you're not, Todd. You're going back to your own universe--now. When
you feel the ship lurch, turn the V-I unit dial back to where it was
before. Ready? _Now!_"
And there came, inexplicably, a swift unsteadiness, a lurching halt of
the ship. At that instant Todd spoke to Garrity, Garrity obeyed, and--
We were once again traveling smoothly on our proper course. But
Jupiter--monstrous missile of solid, terrible death--was no longer
before us! _It was behind us!_
* * * * *
As we saw that, Captain Hanson laughed aloud. And vast was the joy of
that laughter. Relief, happiness, sheer triumph. And apology. And he
cried:
"You've done it, son! Forgive me for doubting you. We're safe! I don't
know how, but--come on in, boy, and tell us all about it!"
But there came no answer. Only the echo of our own harsh breathing, the
dry scrape of our own feet shuffling restlessly. And new terror loomed
suddenly in the Old Man's eyes.
"Biggs!" he cried. "Lanse, my boy! Lanse!"