wall was what he first saw. Only a wall. It was a trick. But wait.
That wall was familiar, rough, unpainted. The focus was shifting to a
section that showed a mounted fish. Now down the wall and across to a
familiar couch. The fishing cabin!

"Karin!" Case blurted.

Then he was mouthing incoherent curses. Her figure had been flung across
the screen, on the couch. She had put up a fight. Her face was
scratched, her blouse ripped. There was a gag in her mouth and her hands
were tied behind her.

"She dies unless you turn back!" the voice said. It meant every word.

Karin had guts. She was shaking her head, imploring him with her eyes
not to turn back.

If he only had time to think! What did the rest of the world mean to
Case Damon? Nothing, if it was a world without Karin. Yet, she was his
own kind, this girl he had married. Were their positions reversed, it
would have been Case who shook his head. Better to die than live in a
world dominated by a murderous, merciless power.

And yet, she was ... Karin. Without her there was nothing. Already
Case's hands were busy, throwing switches that would cut in the
retarding jets, swinging the responsive craft about. He had to give in.
He didn't have time to think.

"All right," he started to say.

* * * * *

His right hand reached out to turn on his transmitter. His lips framed
the words again. But it was too late!

The video was distorting into a mass of wavy lines, the audio brought
nothing but a jumble of sound. Interference was scrambling the telecast
waves beyond hope of intelligibility. He couldn't get through. The first
rumble rose to audibility and made the ship shiver.

"Too late," Case said, and was beyond cursing.

Too late to turn back now. But not too late to go ahead. Air waves were
pitching the ship like a cork. He fought to control, and finally swung
back on course.

Case took a last quick look at Cranly's chart, and flicked his eyes
ahead to the vision plate. Only blackness yet, but the sound was growing
and rising in pitch past the point where he could hear it. There was the
sense of enormous strain, of the tug of unbelievably powerful and
overwhelming contending forces.

And then the blackness split!

First, he could see only a pinpoint of light. It grew larger, widened,
spread until it became a cleft in the void. Case flung his ship forward.

The last rumble of thunder was fading. He kept his eyes on that cleft