at was
even farther-flung. Confusion and chaos seemed to dwell here; if a man
gazed too long, he could quietly go mad. But even more insane, he
anticipated, would be the thick, writhing nothingness of hyperspace.

Lance Cooper made one final check of all the ship's operating
components; then crossed his fingers and cut in the hype-drive.

Instantly, his teeth crashed together and clenched; his strapped-in body
was jerked back in its cushioned seat; sweat beaded his brow. A thousand
needles prickling his skin couldn't have been worse. He had been told
once that the switching-out from this known universe into an unknown one
would feel just like a ten-thousand volt jolt in an old-fashioned
electric chair; and now he could believe it. Every cell in his body had
begun tingling; his stomach pitched under a racking nausea; and an
involuntary trickle of saliva dripped from his mouth the moment he got
his jaws working again.

But Lance fought the nausea, fought the sickness, and gradually as his
flesh accommodated to the change, he felt better.

It was then that the most disturbing phenomenon of all took place. He
felt for a moment as if he had been split into two persons. No, four
persons, eight, sixteen, an infinity of other selves. They were all
beside him, in him and out of him. His eyes ached. He shut them.

When he opened them again, everything was almost back to normal. The
other selves had vanished. Only the constant throbbing vibration of the
ship remained; yet it was a discomfort that had to be endured for four
solid straight weeks now. There was no other means known, by which a
man-made vessel could travel faster than light.

Funny about that four weeks, too, thought Lance. All distances in
hyperspace were the same, no matter where you wished to go; it required
no more than fourteen days and no less, regardless of whether you jumped
one light-year or fifty. Lance had always understood there were
equations on file at HQ, which explained the paradox. But not being a
math expert, he had never missed not being allowed to see them.

He flicked a switch and opened up his viewports again. The starry
universe 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 the
colorless vacuum, hundreds of replicas of the _Cosmos XII_ rode along
beside him, above him, below him, stretched out in all directions.

Ther