ssed, but the psychiatrist-officer, who also wore eagles on
his shoulders, and Major Carmody remained.

Colonel Sagen seated himself behind his desk.

"Major," he began, clearing his throat, "you imagine me to have a
daughter. You're positive of it. You even visualize her so well, that
you remember something about how you were going to marry her."

"You're not going to talk me out of anything on that score," Lance shot
back.

"Perhaps, we don't intend to. Colonel Nordsen, here," Sagen indicated
the psychiatrist, "has flown in from HQ to chat with you. He can explain
the technical aspects of the phenomenon that has thrown you better than
I can. I'd advise you to listen to him. He's just what you need."

"Just what I need? What else do you intend to do? Hypnotize me, so you
can erase all my past?"

The colonel scowled. "Look here, major. You co-operate and learn to keep
your mouth shut, we may be able to restore you to duty. But if not ...
well, what happens then will be entirely up to Nordsen. It could mean a
padded cell. The development of hyperspace exploration has to go on,
whatever happens to you."

"I'll tell you one thing to your face, colonel," Lance replied, hotly.
"I'm not off my rocker."

"No one has maintained you were," broke in Colonel Nordsen. "But Colonel
Sagen had to throw a curtain around you fast."

"Why?"

Neither officer answered.

Finally, Colonel Sagen said, "I think you'd better continue with him,
Colonel Nordsen."

Nordsen was a youthful-looking man for his rank, yet prematurely
balding. He wore thick-shelled glasses.

"Major Cooper," Nordsen began, "let's go back to when you put the
_Cosmos XII_ through its first jump through hyperspace. How well do you
recall your experience?"

"I'll never forget it. You Earthbound kiwis should try it sometime."

"Did you experience a feeling ... perhaps, rather uncanny ... that the
whole thing had happened to you before? What psychologists call the
sense of _deja vu_?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Perhaps some other type of phenomenon was manifested? A feeling you'd
been split in half, maybe."

"That did happen."

"Describe it."

"It was more than just being split in half. I felt like I was suddenly
hundreds of selves. I could see other replicas of 'me' all around."

Nordsen nodded, thoughtfully. "That was what we call the 'Infinite
Fission' syndrome. All those other 'you's' were personality matrices of
yourself in alternate worlds. D