"You see, we aren't fighting human beings. I don't know just what it is we are fighting maybe beings from outer space. We don't know. They attacked us several places at once from great flying rings the like of which we had never seen. They burned us down without warning. Many of us escaped underground where they haven't followed us. They don't operate at night either seem to need sunlight to be active. So it's a stalemate or was until they started gassing our tunnels.
"We've never captured one and consequently don't know what makes them tick. We examined a ring that crashed, but didn't leam much. There was nothing inside that even vaguely resembled animal life, nor was there anything to support animal life. I mean there were no food supplies, nor sanitary arrangements. Opinion is divided between the idea that the one we examined was remotely controlled and the idea that the enemy are some sort of non-protoplasmic intelligence, perhaps force patterns, or something equally odd.
"Our principal weapon is a beam which creates a stasis in the ether, and freezes 'em solid. Or rather it should, but it will destroy all life and prevent molar action but the rings are simply put temporarily out of control. Unless we can keep a beam on a ring right to the moment it crashes, it recovers and gets away. Then its pals come and bum out our position.
"We've had better luck with mining their surface camps, and blowing them up at night. We're accomplished sappers, of course. But we need better weapons. That's what I sent Howard after. I've got two ideas. If the enemy are simply some sort of intelligent force patterns, or something like that, radio may be the answer. We might be able to fill up the ether with static and jam them right out of existence. If they are too tough for that, perhaps some good old-fashioned anti-aircraft fire might make them say 'Uncle.' In any case there is a lot of technology here that we don't have, and which may have the answer. I wish I had time to pass on some of our stuff in return for what I'm taking with me."
"You are determined to go back, Robert?"
"Certainly. It's where I belong. I've no family here. I don t know how to make you see it. Doc, but those are my people that is my world. I suppose if conditions were reversed, I'd feel differently.'
"I see," said Helen, "you're fighting for the wife and kids." "
He turned a weary face toward her. "Not exactly. I'm a bachelor over there, but I do have a family to think about; my sister is in command of the attack unit I'm in. Oh, yes, the women are in it they're little and tough, like you, Helen."
She touched his arm lightly. "How did you pick up this?"
"That bum? You remember we were on the march. We were retreating down that ditch from a surface raid. I thought we had made good our escape when all of a sudden a ring swooped down on us. Most of the detachment scattered, but I'm a junior technician armed with the stasis ray. I tried to get my equipment unlimbered to fight back, but I was burned down before I could finish. Luckily it barely grazed me. Several of the others were fried. I don't know yet whether or not Sis got hers. That's one of the reasons why I'm in a hurry.
"One of the other techs who wasn't hit got his gear set up and covered our retreat. I was dragged underground and taken to a dressing station. The medicos were about to work on me when I passed out and came to in the Professor's study."
The doorbell rang and the Professor got up to answer it. Helen and Robert followed him. It was Howard, bearing spoils.
"Did you get everything?" Robert asked anxiously.
"I think so. Stinky was in, but I managed to borrow his books. The gun was harder, but I telephoned a friend of mine and had him call back and ask for Stinky. While he was out of the room, I lifted it. Now I'm a criminal government property, too."
"You're a pal, Howard. After you hear the explanation, youll agree that it was worth doing. Won't he, Helen?"
"Absolutely!"
"Well, I hope you're right," he answered dubiously. "I brought along something else, just in case. Here it is." He handed Robert a book.
"Aerodynamics and Principles of Aircraft Construction," Robert read aloud. "My God, yes! Thanks, Howard."
In a few minutes, Monroe had his belongings assembled and fastened to his person. He had announced that he was ready when the Professor checked him:
"One moment, Robert. How do you know that these books will go with you?"
"Why not? That's why I'm fastening them to me."
"Did your earthly clothing go through the first time?"
"Noo " His brow furrowed. "Good grief. Doc, what can I do? I couldn't possibly memorize what I need to know."
"I don't know. Son. Let's think about it a bit." He broke off and stared at the ceiling. Helen touched his hand.
"Perhaps I can help. Professor."
"In what way, Helen?"
"Apparently I don't metamorphize when I change time tracks, I had the same clothes with me everywhere I went. Why couldn't I ferry this stuff over for Bob?"
"Hm, perhaps you could."
"No, I couldn't let you do that," interposed Monroe. "You might get killed or badly hurt.'
"I'll chance itУ
"I've got an idea," put in Jenkins. "Couldn't Doct. tor Frost set his instructions so that Helen would go over and come right back? How about it. Doc?"
"Mmm, yes, perhaps." But Helen held up a hand.
"No good. The boodle might come bouncing back with me. I'll go over without any return instructions. I like the sound of this world of Bob's anyway. I may stay there. Cut out the chivalry. Bob. One of the things I liked about your world was the notion of treating men and women alike. Get unstuck from that stuff and start hanging it on me. I'm going."
She looked like a Christmas tree when the dozen odd books had been tied to various parts of her solid little figure, the automatic pistol strapped on, and the two slide rules, one long and one short, stuck in the pistol belt,
Howard fondled the large slide rule before he fastened it on. "Take good care of this slipstick, Bob," he said, "I gave up smoking for six months to pay for it."
Frost seated the two side by side on the sofa in the study. Helen slipped a hand into Bob's. When the shining ball had been made to spin. Frost motioned for Jenkins to leave, closed the door after him and switched out the light. Then he started repeating hypnotic suggestions in a monotone.
Ten minutes later he felt a slight swish of air and ceased. He snapped the light switch. The sofa was empty, even of books.
Frost and Jenkins kept an uneasy vigil while awaiting Estelle's return. Jenkins wandered nervously around the study, examining objects that didn't interest him and smoking countless cigarets. The Professor sat quietly in his easy chair, simulating a freedom from anxiety that he did not feel. They conversed in desultory fashion.
"One thing I don't see," observed Jenkins, "is why in the world Helen could go a dozen places and not change, and Bob goes just one place and comes back almost unrecognizable shorter, heavier, decked out in outlandish clothes. What happened to his ordinary clothes anyhow? How do you explain those things, Professor?"
"Eh? I don't explain them I merely observe them. I think perhaps he changed, while Helen didn't, because Helen was just a visitor to the places she went to, whereas Monroe belonged over there as witness he fitted into the pattern of that world. Perhaps the Great Architect intended for him to cross over."
"Huh? Good heavens, Doctor, surely you don't believe in divine predestination!"
"Perhaps not in those terms. But, Howard, you mechanistic skeptics make me tired. Your naive ability to believe that things 'jest growed' approaches childishness. According a you a fortuitous accident of entropy produced Beethoven's Ninth Symphony."
"I think that's unfair. Doctor. You certainly don't expect a man to believe in things that run contrary to his good sense without offering him any reasonable explanation."