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Next Door Next World

Robert Donald Locke



  Produced by Greg Weeks, Dave Lovelace, Stephen Blundelland the Online Distributed Proofreading Team athttps://www.pgdp.net

  NEXT DOOR, NEXT WORLD

  By ROBERT DONALD LOCKE

  _Almost any phenomenon can be used--or act--for good or ill. Mutation usually brings ill--but it also brings greatness. Change can go any direction._

  Illustrated by Douglas

  Hungrily, the cradled vessel's great steel nose pointed up to thedistant stars. She was the _Cosmos XII_, newest and sleekest of theSpace Service's rapidly-expanding wing of interstellar scout ships, andshe was now ready for operational work.

  Major Lance Cooper, a big man with space-tanned features, stood in theshadow of the control bunker and watched the swarm of ground crewmenworking at last-minute speed atop the loading tower. Inside him burned ahunger, too.

  Hunger, and another emotion--pride.

  The pride swelled Lance's open-collared khaki shirt, as he envisionedhimself at the ship's controls within a few minutes. Finally, after longyears of study, sweat and dedication, he'd made it to the Big League. Nomore jockeying those tubby old rocket-pots to Luna! From here on, he wasgoing to see, taste, feel what the universe was like way, way out--inDeep Space. The _Cosmos XII_, like her earlier sisters, was designed toplow through that shuddery nowhere the cookbooks identified as"hyperspace."

  Lance's glance shifted upward, scanning the velvet backdrop of frostywhite points of light against which the slender, silverish, almostwingless form stood framed. More stars than a man could visit in alifetime! And some already within grasp!

  His exultant feeling grew, and Lance kept his head tilted backward.Alpha Centauri, the most popular target, was not visible at thislatitude; and Barnard's star, besides being far too faint, lay on theother side of the sun. But there shone Sirius, just as bright as it hadglittered for the Greeks, and frosty Procyon, a little to the north.Both orbs twinkled and beckoned, evoking strange and demanding dreams!

  One day, Man would be able to make landings. Teams of scientistsoutfitted to the eyebrows and trained to cope with any environment oremergency, would explore unknown jungles, _llanos_, steppes; tramp upand down fertile vales and hills under blue-hot alien suns. Perhaps,they might even contact native species boasting human intelligence:mammalian hunters and fishers, city-building lizards, sky-probingarachnids--who knew what?

  But now, of course, all that Headquarters permitted of flights was themost furtive of reconnoitering. You hoisted your scout ship aloft underhigh-gee, cleared the ecliptic, then swung out of normal space and_jumped_. When you materialized in the new sector, you set your camerasclicking, toggled all the other instruments into recording radiation,gravity pressures, spectroscopy, at slam-bang speed. The very instantyour magnetic tapes got crammed to capacity, you pressed six dozen panicbuttons and scooted like a scared jackrabbit for Home, Sweet Home.

  Adventure? It wasn't even mentioned on the travel posters, yet.

  But, adventure would follow.

  Some day.

  Meanwhile, at the taxpayers' expense, you--the guardian of thePeace--had enjoyed the billion-dollar thrill of viewing our Solar Systemfrom light-years and light-years of distance. Or so the manual said,right here on Insert Page 30-Dash-11-Dash-6.

  Lance thought about those veteran hype-pilots who'd already poked aroundin the great black Cold out there. How was it they were alwayscompensating for their frustration?

  Now, he remembered.

  Having few tall tales to spellbind audiences with when they swooped backdown on Home Base after their missions, the hype-pilots got around it bybragging up Terra itself, and how at least you could always depend upongood old Earth to come up with something to relax this Warp-Wearygeneration!

  "Something, for example, such as we now hold in our hand, brothers!"Lance could hear them now. "Namely, one of these superbly-programmedcocktails, as only Casey can turn out."

  (Casey was the Officers Club barkeep and much-beribboned mixologist.)

  "A real 'Casey Special'--look at its pristine beauty! What betterconsolation can a man ask, for not having gotten to land at the apogeepoint of his orbit?"

  "Besides"--this usually came out after two or three moretongue-loosening toasts had been quaffed to the beasts ofHeadquarters--"what's so blasted special about landing on someGod-forsaken rock _out there_?

  "Hell's bells! Earth is a planet too, isn't it? And when you've beencooped up in a parsec-gobbling pot for a very, very long two weeks, anyplanet looming in your viewscope cries to be set down upon. Your ownprosaic hunk of mud is good as any!"

  * * * * *

  Lance Cooper's rambling thoughts broke off their aimless tracking toswing one hundred and eighty degrees in midspace and dart right back toEarth.

  Here at this very moment--and less than a hundred yards away--cameTerra's foremost attraction for him. His hammering heartbeat would haveplaced him on the "grounded" list immediately, had there been a medicowith a stethoscope hanging about to detect it.

  The attraction's name was Carolyn Sagen, and she was hurrying directlyacross the concrete apron.

  Even under the incandescent work-lamps of the crew scrambling up anddown the ladders, she looked as fetching as a video starlet making herfirst personal-appearance tour of the nation. Only the fact she wasColonel "Hard-Head" Sagen's family pride and joy kept the helmeted andhalf-puckered up techs on the rungs from whistling themselves dry intheir enthusiasm.

  Now, she had completely bypassed the work area. Here, the lighting didnot reach and the paler illumination of starshine took over. It seemedto render the girl's soft blond hair and her full warm lips moreintimately something belonging to Lance Cooper alone--and he liked that.He saw that she had turned up the collar of her tan coat against thenight wind.

  While still a step or two distant from him, Carolyn halted. Herworshiping eyes rested fully upon the big pilot. Lance thought hedetected a troubled expression.

  Then, the girl managed a tight smile that conveyed her outwardresignment to all Man's absurd aspirations to own the galaxy:

  "Don't worry about 'Security,' Lance. Dad wrote me out an O.K. toskitter up this close to the Launching Area. You know"--she gesturedself-consciously--"big crucial moment ... lovers' farewell ... I pulledall the stops, but it worked."

  "Matter of fact," she added, in an obvious attempt at facetiousness,"Dad opined he'd have walloped the daylights out of me, if I hadn't putup a struggle to get near my man."

  Then suddenly, she was not at all brave, anymore.

  Suddenly, she had burrowed into his arms. "Oh Lance, had there been noother way, I'd have clawed right through fence and revetments to get toyou! Men, men! Just because something's _out there_, as you say ... whyis it so important to build ships and go out and look at it?" Herfingers dug into Lance's shoulders. "Women are saner ... but maybethat's why men need us." The grip of her fingers shifted, tightened."Kiss me, you big baboon."

  Lance kissed her. A tender kiss, yet gusty enough that he lifted herfrom the ground and her high-heeled shoes kicked in free fall.

  The pilot found his girl's breath warm, loving. Yet her cheeks seemedcolder than even the crisp air should account for. And her body wastrembling.

  He planted a second kiss, then set her down.

  "Hey! This is no way for a Space Service brat to carry on. Why, you'rejust about to--"

  "To cry, Lance? No, I wasn't. It's just that ... you'll be gone solong."

  He punched her playfully. "Two measly weeks out, two weeks to astrogateher back home. And once I've got my feet wet at it, it'll be likeshooting ducks in an alley."

  Carolyn reached out, brushed a windswept tuft of hair from above therock-steady eyes that looked at her.
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  "I know, Lance. I even realize that just ten years ago, women had to putup with separations from their sweethearts or husbands that lastedmonths. When the old pioneer ships used to limp back and forth to Marsand Venus. But I'm different, I guess. Weak, maybe. Or just plainscared--"

  This didn't sound like the blithe-spirited girl he'd pursued for a year,then wooed and subdued. Lance studied her, then said slowly: "You'rescared. About what? My first flight?"

  Carolyn's head bobbed timidly.

  Lance flashed a reassuring grin. "Everything has to be a brand-newexperience, at some time or other. Me, I prefer to look at hype-flightfrom the point of view of the service. A routine thing. Just takestraining. Otherwise," and he shrugged, "it's no more a risk than haulinggroceries upstairs