Sub-space was a vast nothingness used for
instantaneous travel between stellar worlds. It
was uncharted, and—Liddell knew—a death trap!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
February 1956
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Liddell stared expectantly at the blank screen of the transfer unit. Ithad been blank ever since he had arrived with his wife at the doorway,enigmatically, mysteriously, sometimes frighteningly blank.
"See anything?" Linda asked. Liddell's wife of one month was a tall buttrimly built girl in the uniform of the Transfer Service. She leanedanxiously over Liddell's shoulder now as he peered at the dazzlingwhite screen.
"Not yet," he said, licking his lips. "It was just a hunch, anyway."
"What was just a hunch, darling?"
"That we'd see anything now."
"But you said—"
"I know what I said, Linda. That we'd had enough time to get used tothis transfer station. That we'd read all the instructions and adviceleft by our predecessor. That we'd—"
"Then where's our first customer?" Linda demanded with a pout.
Liddell grinned and craned his neck to peck a kiss at his young wife'scheek. "Don't tell me you're lonely already!" he gasped, feigningamazement.
"No, but—"
Suddenly, the lines of Liddell's gaunt face went serious. "Thelighthouse keepers of last century had nothing on us," he said.
Linda nodded. "They were practically in the middle of things bycomparison. That's one thing I can't exactly get straight, sweetheart.Exactly where we are, I mean."
Liddell shrugged and offered an expansive gesture which was meant totake in the round globe of their living quarters and the transfer unit."We're nowhere," he said. "Or we're everywhere. It depends on whatsub-space school you belong to. You see, sub-space is either utterlynowhere, existing below the normal endless but finite, self-containedspace-time continuity or else it is potentially everywhere, existingjust below the warp and woof of space-time on a thousand thousandworlds...."
"Never mind, Lidd," Linda grinned. "Once you get started on somethinglike that, you'd keep a gal up all night."
"Sleepy?"
"A little. That is, as you would say, if there was such a thing asnight here. But there's nothing outside the globe, nothing but thatfeatureless grayness. It doesn't even swirl. If it just swirled alittle, like smoke, that would be something. But it doesn't even dothat."
"Sub-space," Liddell offered. "Absolute nothingness. It's funny, youalways picture nothingness as being black. But it's not. It's gray.Plain, featureless, changeless gray."
"Brother!" Linda said. "Can I ever see why they only take husband-wifeteams in the Transfer Service."
"I'll bite. Why?"
"Because a man alone could go off his rocker thinking the things youthink. He needs a girl around."
"Does he?" Liddell asked, then waited until Linda had begun to poutbefore he whirled around and took her in his arms, his back to theblank transfer screen.
"Lidd," Linda said. "Ah, Lidd...." But all at once she stiffened inhis arms. He could feel her hands against his chest, trying to thrusthim away. Her mouth was open but she couldn't speak. With one hand shemanaged to point.
At the surface of the transfer screen.
"We're going to have company," Linda finally said.
Linda was in the galley, whipping up a quick meal. Aside from itscomplete necessity in making the switch-over from normal space tosub-space and back again, th