Dwight V. Swain

“ It was nearly four o'clock in the windowless basement laboratory when Horning screwed tight the last connection.
He straightened, shrugged the kinks from his back and shoulders, and wiped his hands clean on a wad of waste. Crossing to the battered desk in the corner, he pushed back Margaret's picture, got out pen and paper, and wrote briefly:
Dear Myrtle,
It's time we faced facts. I never should have married you after Margaret died. My work means everything to me; I can't give it up. But you detest the whole business of being a scientist's wife. ”

“ There's no way of integrating two identical personalities, two selves of the same man, into a highly organized society such as this one."
"And for a reason like that you'd try to force me out—?" Horning took an angry step forward.
But his counterpart jumped back, out of the way. His hand darted to his pocket, whipping out the snub-nosed pistol.
Horning came to an abrupt halt.
The blandness was gone from the other's face now. The deep-set eyes were cold, the sardonic lines set.
He said: "There's another reason, Doctor. I like my life; I like my wife. ”

“ That other woman had a fortune. I'll have a better life in her place than you ever gave me!"
"But this man here...."
"He died a natural death. That's all I care about. I'll be a widow—a wealthy widow...."
The words went on, but Horning hardly heard. He sagged back against the workbench—shaken, unable to speak. It was as if, of a sudden, he were seeing his wife through new eyes.
She crowded close to him and said, "One other thing...."
Her hand darted out. She snatched Margaret's picture from Horning's pocket—ripping it to shreds, scuffing the fragments.
Horning made no effort to stop her. ”

“ The idea that life's a book with an infinity of pages; that every event automatically creates coexisting planes, one for each possible outcome—" Horning's captor broke off. "But why? What drove you to cross the barrier?"
Horning shrugged. "It was Myrtle—" he began wryly. ”

“ The man pocketed his gun and walked over to the table. "Let me mix you a drink. After such an experience, you need a pickup."
Horning leaned back, studying the other obliquely and trying to fathom the sudden change in his attitude.
Too, he still marveled at the similarity between them. They were so alike they could pass as twins, he decided. Identical twins. The only difference between them lay in details of expression—the sardonic twist to the other's mouth; the chill, penetrating gleam in the deep-set eyes. ”

“ I never dreamed it could be so simple."
"I used a light-loop to help break through the barrier," Horning explained, sketching out a hasty diagram. "It helps to increase the power output—"
"Of course." The other was down on the floor now, probing into the unit's workings. "I've developed all the component elements at one time or another, but when it came to combining them properly, I always managed to miss out."
Horning rose and drained his glass. "Well, you know now," he observed. "For my part, I'm ready to start work on some other project, now that I've gotten to this world." ”

“ His counterpart handed him a glass. "You amuse me, my friend. But I'm afraid you don't realize the full implications of what you've done."
"Such as—?" Horning queried, sipping at the drink and finding it good.
"Such as the fact that interdimensional transit is not only a logical impossibility, but a very practical menace."
Horning frowned. "Why?"
"Because it puts two identical personalities on one plane." The man with Horning's face dropped into a chair and hunched forward. "Take our own situation as an example. You're married to a shrew, a termagant. You want to leave her." ”

“ His coexisting self leaned back against the light-loop's control panel. The pistol hung loose at his side.
"We have an undetectable anesthetic in my world," he observed. "A few drops of it on a handkerchief, pressed over your Myrtle's face tonight, will make her sleep as soundly as my wife is sleeping over there." He nodded to the still figure on the floor.
Horning scrubbed the sweat from his hands against his pant-legs. Shivering, he ran his fingers through his hair.
"You'll be free to follow your research, wherever it leads you," his counterpart murmured dreamily. ”

“ A man crouched there—ragged, bone-gaunt, grey as the shattered walls at his back. He clutched a club in one claw-like hand, and the strain of utter panic, despair, stood out in every taut, harsh-drawn line. ”

“ The figure outlined in the light-loop grew sharper. A man lurched through the frame, into the room. His face was Horning's face, and he staggered under the weight of a transdimensional registration unit, plus a great, bulging, cumbersome bundle slung across his shoulder. ”

“ Dust leaped from the plastic wrapper as the slugs smashed home. The woman's body jerked convulsively.
Horning gave a hoarse cry and leaped forward.
His counterpart jumped aside. He hit Horning hard on the back of the neck with the pistol.
Horning slammed to the floor. The room rocked about him.
As from afar, he heard his alter ego's voice: "Get up!"
Horning dragged himself to his knees, choking and gasping. He caught a blurred glimpse of the limp figure of the woman who had been his counterpart's wife. A thin trickle of blood was seeping from her mouth.... ”

“ Knowing how you feel about the "shame" of divorce, I won't ask you to let me leave you legally. There's a better way out. By the time you read this, I'll either have breached and bridged the space-time continuum to another plane, or I'll be dead. In either case, you'll be happier with me gone. My patent royalties and insurance will take care of you as long as you live.
Good luck, and I'm sorry it didn't work out.
Raymond.
Horning weighted the letter down in the center of the desk. Then, pushing back his chair, he picked up Margaret's picture. ”

“ The other started; fell back a step. "Myrtle—?"
"My wife. I wanted to leave her."
"You mean—you breached the continuum for no better reason...?"
Horning laughed curtly. "For my part, I found it a very adequate reason."
For a long moment the other stared at him. Then, abruptly, he, too, laughed. The snub-nosed gun's muzzle lowered.
"You amaze me," his captor chuckled. He bowed. "Permit me to introduce myself. I'm Doctor Raymond X. Horning."
"My coexisting counterpart on this plane—?"
"Of course. The alter ego is bound to serve as a focal point when you cross the barrier." ”

“ I don't know...."
"Adjustment to environment is the key to integration of personality. When anyone loses touch with his world, the background he knows as reality, he can no longer adjust." Horning's counterpart paused. His voice dropped a note. "Every plane has facilities to take care of such unfortunates."
The skin along the back of Horning's neck prickled. "You mean ... Myrtle would go mad?" ”