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mind.

  But with a swoop and a soar, he was carried up and away, through thesweet summer air, to a cloud of white softness.

  This was not what he had planned, by any means.

  A steady, warm breeze enveloped him and there was a tinkle of farawaymusic. It frightened him and he struggled to get back into contactwith the girl's mind. But there was no contact. Apparently he had beencast out, against his will.

  The forces of creation buffeted him. His dizzying flight carried himthrough the clean air in swift journey from horizon to horizon, thenup, up and out beyond the limits of the atmosphere, only to return himin a trice to the breast of the rolling meadow. He was conscious nowof the steady growth of slim green leaves as they pressed confidentlythrough the nurturing Earth, of the other tiny living things in and onthe Earth, and the heartbeat of the Earth itself, assuring him withits great strength of the continuation of all things.

  Then he was back with the girl, watching through her eyes a butterflyas it fluttered to rest on a flower and perched there, gently wavingits gaudy wings.

  He had not been cast out. The young woman herself had gone on thatwild journey to the heavens, not only with her mind, but with herentire being, attuned to the rest of creation. There was a continuity,he realized, a oneness between herself, the mother-to-be, and theUniverse. With her, then, he felt the stirrings of new life, and hewas proud and content.

  He forgot for the moment that he had been a failure.

  * * * * *

  The soft breeze seemed to turn chill. The Sun was still high andunclouded, but its warmth was gone. With the girl, he felt a pricklingalong the spine. She turned her head slightly and, through her eyes,he saw, a few yards away in tall grass, a creeping man.

  The eyes of the man were fixed on the girl's body and the travelerfelt her thrill of terror. The man lay there for a moment, hands flaton the ground under his chest. Then he moved forward, inching towardher.

  The girl screamed. Her terror gripped the visitor. He was helpless.His thoughts whirled into chaos, following hers.

  The eyes of the creeping man flicked from side to side, then up. Thevisitor quivered and cringed with the girl when she screamed again. Asthe torrent of frightened sound poured from her throat, the creepingman looked into her eyes. Instantly the visitor was sucked into hismind.

  It was a maelstrom. A tremendous conflict was going on in it. One partof it was urging the body on in its fantastic crawl toward the youngwoman frozen in terror against the sky. The visitor was aware of theother part, submerged and struggling feebly, trying to get throughwith a message of reason. But it was handicapped. The visitor sensedthese efforts being nullified by a crushing weight of shame.

  The traveler fought against full identification with the deranged partof the mind. Nevertheless, he sought to understand it, as he hadunderstood the other minds he'd visited. But there was nothing tounderstand. The creeping man had no plan. There was no reason for hisaction.

  The visitor felt only a compulsion which said, "You must! You must!"

  The visitor was frightened. And then he realized that he was lessfrightened than the man was. The terror felt by the creeping man wasgreater than the fear the visitor had experienced with the girl.

  There were shouts and barking. He heard the shrill cry of a boy. "Goget him, Max!"

  There was a squeal of brakes from the road and a pounding of heavyfootsteps coming toward them.

  With the man, the visitor rose up, confused, scared. A great shaggyweight hurled itself and a growling, sharp-toothed mouth sought athroat.

  A voice yelled, "Don't shoot! The dog's got him!"

  Then blackness.

  * * * * *

  "Mersey." The voice summoned the visitor, huddling in a corner of thederanged mind, fearing contamination.

  The eyes opened, looked up at the ceiling of a barred cell.

  "Dr. Cloyd is here to see you," the voice said.

  The visitor felt the mind of his host seeking to close out the wordsand the world, to return to sheltering darkness.

  There was a rattle of keys and the opening of an iron door.

  The eyes opened as a hand shook the psychotic Mersey by the shoulder.The visitor sought escape, but the eyes avoided those of the other.

  "Come with me, son," the doctor's voice said. "Don't be frightened.No one will hurt you. We'll have a talk."

  Mersey shook off the hand on his shoulder.

  "Drop dead," he muttered.

  "That wouldn't help anything," the doctor said. "Come on, man."

  Mersey sat up and, through his eyes, the traveler saw the doctor'slegs. Were they legs or were they iron bars? The traveler cringed awayfrom the mad thought.

  A room with a desk, a chair, a couch, and sunlight through a window.Crawling sunlit snakes. The visitor shuddered. He sought the part ofthe mind that was clear, but he sought in vain. Only the whirlingchaos and the distorted images remained now.

  There was a pain in the throat and with Mersey he lifted a hand to it.Bandaged--gleaming teeth and a snarling animal's mouth--fear, despairand hatred. With the prisoner, he collapsed on the couch.

  "Lie down, if you like," said Dr. Cloyd's voice. "Try to relax. Let mehelp you."

  "Drop dead," Mersey replied automatically. The visitor felt thetenseness of the man, the unreasoning fear, and the resentment.

  But as the man lay there, the traveler sensed a calming of theturbulence. There was an urgent rational thought. He concentrated andtried to help the man phrase it.

  "The girl--is she all right? Did I...?"

  "She's all right." The doctor's voice was soothing. It pushed back theshadows a little. "She's perfectly all right."

  The visitor sensed a dulled relief in Mersey's mind. The shadows stillwhirled, but they were less ominous. He suggested a question, exultedas Mersey attempted to phrase it: "Doctor, am I real bad off? Can...?"

  But still the shadows.

  "We'll work together," said the doctor's voice. "You've been ill, butso have others. With your help, we can make you well."

  The traveler made a tremendous effort. He urged Mersey to say: "I'llhelp, doctor. I want to find peace."

  But then Mersey's voice went on: "I must find a new home. We need anew home. We can't stay where we are."

  * * * * *

  The traveler was shocked at the words. He hadn't intended them to comeout that way. Somehow Mersey had voiced the underlying thoughts of hispeople. The traveler sought the doctor's reaction, but Mersey wouldn'tlook at him. The man's gaze was fixed on the ceiling above the couch.

  "Of course," the doctor said. His words were false, the visitorrealized; he was humoring the madman.

  "We had so much, but now there is no future," Mersey said. The visitortried to stop him. He would not be stopped. "We can't stay muchlonger. We'll die. We must find a new world. Maybe you can help us."

  Dr. Cloyd spoke and there was no hint of surprise in his voice.

  "I'll help you all I can. Would you care to tell me more about yourworld?"

  Desperately, the visitor fought to control the flow of Mersey's words.He had opened the gate to the other world--how, he did not know--andall of his knowledge and memories now were Mersey's. But the travelercould not communicate with the disordered mind. He could onlycommunicate through it, and then involuntarily. If he could escape themind ... but he could not escape. Mersey's eyes were fixed on theceiling. He would not look at the doctor.

  "A dying world," Mersey said. "It will live on after us, but we willdie because we have finished. There's nothing more to do. The Changeis upon us, and we must flee it or die. I have been sent here as alast hope, as an emissary to learn if this world is the answer. I havetraveled among you and I have found good things. Your world is muchlike ours, physically, but it has not grown as fast or as far as ours,and we would be happy here, among you, if we could control."

  * * * * *

&n
bsp; The words from Mersey's throat had come falteringly at first, but nowthey were strong, although the tone was flat and expressionless. Thewords went on:

  "But we can't control. I've tried and failed. At best we can co-exist,as observers and vicarious participants, but we must surrender choice.Is that to be our destiny--to live on, but to be denied all exceptcontemplation--to live on as guests among you, accepting your ways andsharing them, but with no power to change them?"

  The traveler shouted at Mersey's mind in soundless fury: "Shut up!Shut up!"

  Mersey stopped talking.

  "Go on," said the doctor softly. "This is very interesting."

  "Shut up!" said the traveler voicelessly, yet with frantic urgency.

  The madman was silent. His body was