out,
steadied her.

Something was wrong again. But what? He could not guess.

Lance came out of his paralysis. He began running towards her.

And in a moment, they were in each other's arms without caring why or
how: Lance Cooper and the girl he loved. Kissing, hugging, unable to
believe for a moment in each other's reality.

Then, Carolyn had to have breath and she drew apart for a moment. Then,
she kissed him again. And Lance, for the first time, listened and made
sense out of the welter of hysterical sobbing words that were pouring
forth:

"Darling, darling, darling Lance! I cried so much, and now it's all
over. I don't care if you're not real. I love you, I love you! I don't
care if you are somebody from another time-track like Major Carmody
says! You're my Lance and you belong to me. It's you I love and want
now; no matter how shameless I sound!... Yes, darling, it's you I want,
not that poor broken thing we buried two months ago. Not the--"

Lance's feeling of impending horror was great, but not so great that he
shrank from the question that now rose and beat and beat at his brain.
The overwhelming question that had to be asked.

"Carolyn!" He held her so tight he thought for a moment he'd cracked her
ribs. His half-shook gaze penetrated her retreating eyes, forcing her to
meet him.

"Carolyn! What do you mean--it's _me_ you want now, not that poor broken
thing you buried? Tell me. TELL ME!"

"Don't you know, darling Lance? When you took off that night eight weeks
ago, that night I kissed you good-by, your ship ... oh don't you
comprehend?... Your ship, it--"

"Tell me, Carolyn!"

"Your ship, Lance, that's it over there--the wreckage of it! The _Cosmos
XII_ crashed on take-off that night, Lance. You were killed out-right.
We buried you two days later."

THE END

Transcriber's Note:

This etext was produced from _Analog Science Fact and Science
Fiction_ April 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence
that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor
spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.

End of Project Gutenberg's Next Door, Next World, by Robert Donald Locke

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