"Sorry, Swarts." Maitland's voice resonated with triumph. "You'll just have to humor me once more." "Maitland! Don't you know that you're going to snap back to the 20th Century in half an hour? You'll be in space with no protection. You'll explode!" "I know," Maitland said. He looked up through the viewport. "Right now, I'm seeing the stars as I've never seen them before. Sorry to make you lose a case, Swarts, but this is better than dying of pneumonia or an atomic bomb." He reached forward and snapped the image off. * * * * * Twenty minutes later, Maitland had Ingrid cut the drive and turn the ship, so that he could see the Earth. It was there, a huge shining globe against the constellations, 10,000 miles distant, 100 times the size of familiar Luna. North America was directly below, part of Canada covered with a dazzling area of clouds. The polar ice-cap was visible in its entirety, along with the northern portions of the Eurasian land mass. The line of darkness cut off part of Alaska and bisected the Pacific Ocean, and the Sun's reflection in the Atlantic was blinding. And there was Venus, a brilliant, white jewel against the starry blackness of interstellar space, and now he could see the Sun's corona.... The ship was rotating slowly, and presently the Moon, at first quarter, came into view, not perceptibly larger than seen from Earth. Maitland heaved a sigh of regret. If only this could have been but the beginning of a voyage.... Ingrid touched his arm. "Bob." He turned to look at her golden beauty. "Bob, give me one more kiss." He loosened his seat strap and put his arms around her. For a moment he felt her soft lips on his.... Then she was gone, and the ship had vanished. For perhaps as long as a second, alone in space, he was looking with naked, unprotected, ambition-sated eyes at the distant stars. The luring white blaze of Venus was the last image he took with him into the night without stars. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Ambition, by William L. Bade