SO MANY WORLDS AWAY....
By Dwight V. Swain
Horning's married life was unbearable so
he sought peace in another dimension. But was
his past somehow linked with other worlds?...
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
July 1952
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
It was nearly four o'clock in the windowless basement laboratory whenHorning screwed tight the last connection.
He straightened, shrugged the kinks from his back and shoulders, andwiped his hands clean on a wad of waste. Crossing to the battered deskin the corner, he pushed back Margaret's picture, got out pen andpaper, and wrote briefly:
Dear Myrtle,
It's time we faced facts. I never should have married you afterMargaret died. My work means everything to me; I can't give it up. Butyou detest the whole business of being a scientist's wife. Knowing howyou feel about the "shame" of divorce, I won't ask you to let me leaveyou legally. There's a better way out. By the time you read this,I'll either have breached and bridged the space-time continuum toanother plane, or I'll be dead. In either case, you'll be happier withme gone. My patent royalties and insurance will take care of you aslong as you live.
Good luck, and I'm sorry it didn't work out.
Raymond.
Horning weighted the letter down in the center of the desk. Then,pushing back his chair, he picked up Margaret's picture.
She smiled up at him as always, so real the sight of her brought atightness to his throat. When he closed his eyes, he could almost hearher voice, rippling with gay, gentle laughter. He felt her lips onhis ... her dark, silken hair against his cheek.
Only Margaret had lain in her grave for three years now....
Horning drew a quick, shallow breath. Sliding the photo from its frame,he tucked it into the breast pocket of his shirt.
Back at the workbench, he heaved up the bulky transdimensionalregistration unit, strapped it on and adjusted the scanning scope tothe proper angle against his chest. Dial by dial, circuit by circuit,he checked the light-loop's control panel.
Everything was ready.
This was the moment he'd worked for ... the great gamble, the finaltest. Not even Myrtle could stop him now.
Palm slick with sweat, he gripped the master switch and shoved it shut.
Purple light flared in the tubes set in the light-loop's door-likemetal frame. The blank wall behind it took on the familiar translucentglow.
Horning opened the intensifier channels and increased the alpha andgamma readings.
The light turned silver. The wall behind the framework disappeared.
Horning stepped onto the ramp that led up to the frame. In the hummingstillness he could hear the sound of his own heartbeat, drumming fasterand faster. The sharp, chlorine-like smell of ozone filled the air.
For an instant, then, he hesitated, acutely conscious of anuncontrollable trembling. Sweat drenched him; the sour stench of it cutthrough the ozone.
He thought: Maybe they're right. Maybe I'm crazy to think I can crossthe barrier between the worlds.
Upstairs, the front door slammed. The house echoed with the thud ofheavy footsteps.
Myrtle's footsteps—!
Horning sucked in one final, desperate breath and stepped through thelight-loop's frame.
It was so simple, reall