SO MANY WORLDS AWAY.... By Dwight V. Swain Horning's married life was unbearable so he sought peace in another dimension. But was his past somehow linked with other worlds?... [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy July 1952 Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] 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. 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. She smiled up at him as always, so real the sight of her brought a tightness to his throat. When he closed his eyes, he could almost hear her voice, rippling with gay, gentle laughter. He felt her lips on his ... her dark, silken hair against his cheek. Only Margaret had lain in her grave for three years now.... Horning drew a quick, shallow breath. Sliding the photo from its frame, he tucked it into the breast pocket of his shirt. Back at the workbench, he heaved up the bulky transdimensional registration unit, strapped it on and adjusted the scanning scope to the proper angle against his chest. Dial by dial, circuit by circuit, he checked the light-loop's control panel. Everything was ready. This was the moment he'd worked for ... the great gamble, the final test. Not even Myrtle could stop him now. Palm slick with sweat, he gripped the master switch and shoved it shut. Purple light flared in the tubes set in the light-loop's door-like metal frame. The blank wall behind it took on the familiar translucent glow. Horning opened the intensifier channels and increased the alpha and gamma readings. The light turned silver. The wall behind the framework disappeared. * * * * *