of the new televiewers, recently installed in place of the telephone.

"What is it?"

"Our bill has been passed by a landslide majority in both houses of
Congress!"

"Ooo!" cried Stephanie.

"Not very coherent, my dear, but those are my sentiments exactly. In
two weeks there will be a Journey to Nowhere, a special one which will
include, among its passengers, a woman."

"But the study which had to be made--?"

"It's already been made. From what I gather, they can't take it very
far. Most of their conclusions had to be based on supposition. The
important thing, though, is this: a woman _will_ be sent. The way the
C.E.L. figures it, my dear, is that a woman falling in the twenty-one
to twenty-six age group should be chosen, a woman who meets all the
requirements placed upon the young men."

"Yes," said Stephanie. "Of course. And I was just thinking that I
would be--"

"Remember those chickens!" cautioned Mrs. Draper. "We already have one
hundred seventy-seven volunteers who'd claw each other to pieces for a
chance to go."

"Wrong," Stephanie said, smiling. "You now have one hundred
seventy-eight."

"Room for only one, my dear. Only one, you know."

"Then cross the others off your list. I'm already packing my bag."

* * * * *

When Temple regained consciousness, it was with the feeling that no
more than a split second of time had elapsed. So much had happened so
rapidly that, until now, he hadn't had time to consider it.

Arkalion had vanished.

Vanished--he could use no other word. He was there, standing in the
booth--and then he wasn't. Simple as that. Now you see it, now you
don't. And goodbye, Arkalion.

But goodbye Temple, too. For hadn't Temple entered the same booth,
waiting but a second until Arkalion activated the mechanism at the
other end? And certainly Temple wasn't in the booth now. He smiled at
the ridiculously simple logic of his thoughts. He stood in an open
field, the blades of grass rising to his knees, as much brilliant
purple as they were green. Waves of the grass, stirred like tide by
the gentle wind, and hills rolling off toward the horizon in whichever
direction he turned. Far away, the undulating hills lifted to a half
soft mauve sky. A somber red sun with twice Sol's apparent disc but
half its brightness hung midway between zenith and horizon completing
the picture of peaceful other-worldliness.

Wherever this was, it wasn't Earth--or Mars.