me to see
them off. It was the same ship, even.

All that was different was the absence of Alice.

He stayed in his stateroom and didn't watch the takeoff. He felt the
faint rocking motion as the ship went down its long waterway. He felt
the shift as the artificial gravity took over. He lay on the bed and
closed his eyes as the Martian Princess sought the cold night of space.

For two days he remained in the room, emerging only for meals. The trip
itself held no interest for him. He waited only for the announcement
that the black ship had come.

But by the end of the second day it had not come. Mel spent a sleepless
night staring out at the endless horizon of stars. Dr. Martin had been
right, he thought. There was no black ship. He had merely substituted
one illusion for another. Where was reality? Did it exist anywhere in
all the world?

Yet, even if there were no black ship, his goal was still Mars.

The third day passed without the appearance of the black ship. But on
the very evening of that day the speaker announced: "All passengers will
prepare for transfer from the shuttle ship to the Mars liner. Bring hand
luggage--"

Mel sat paralyzed while he listened to the announcement. So it was true!
He felt the faint jar that rocked the Martian Princess as the two ships
coupled. From his stateroom port Mel could see the stranger, black,
ugly, and somehow deadly. He wished he could show Dr. Martin this
"illusion"!

He packed swiftly and left the room. Mel joined the surprised and
excited throng now, not hanging back, but eager to find out the secret
of the great black ship.

The transition from one ship to the other was almost imperceptible. The
structure of both corridors was the same, but Mel knew when the junction
was crossed. He sensed the entry into a strange world that was far
different from the common one he knew.

Far down the corridor the crowd was slowing, forming into lines before
stewards who were checking tickets. The passengers were shunted into
branching corridors leading to their own staterooms. So far everything
was so utterly normal that Mel felt an overwhelming despondency. It was
just as they had been told; they were transferring to the Mars liner
from the shuttle.

The steward glanced at his ticket, held it for a moment of hesitation
while he scanned Mel's face. "Mr. Norton--please come with me."

The steward moved away in a direction no other passengers were taking.
Another steward mov