Nearer came the planet. I could see now that it was as mad and wild as the unspawned negative universe in which it floated. No life. No thin film of atmosphere to blue the sharp definition of its raw terrain. A weird, dead world in a universe that could not be. I was aware of Donovan at my side, breathing hard. I glanced across the room at Lancelot Biggs. His eyes were strained, the muscles of his jaw white. His lips were half parted. Perhaps it was imagination, but I thought I caught the whisper of a name. "Diane!" And then a stranger thing happened. There came a sudden, tender little cry from Helen MacDowell. A flurry of movement. And then she was across the room, was in the arms of Hank Cleaver! And she didn't seem to care that her words carried to all of us. "You've failed, Hank! But I don't care. I don't care. It's too late to pretend now that I hate you. For I don't. I love you, Hank...." Then everything happened at once. My eyes leaped back from the Helen-Hank tableau to the visiplate, as abruptly there came a crashing explosion from the bowels of the ship. I saw the planet before us now within--it seemed--but inches! There was a high, tortured screaming in my ears. The grind of motors, the pounding of massive drums, a scream ripping from the throat of Hallowell, a muffled curse from Cap Hanson-- Then a horrible, wrenching shock. I felt my body lifting, floating, hurtling across the floor! Something fell sprawling upon me, glass splintered, a dozen voices cried out at once. And everything was black, and there was a dead and sickly pressure across my body-- --from the center of which came a muffled voice. The voice of Bert Donovan. "Well, I'll be triple and everlastingly damned to a fare-you-well!" I kicked, and he wriggled. I kicked again and he moved. I said, "If you'll get off my head, you damned fool, maybe I can see what's going on!" He got up. And so did I. All about the control room, men were picking themselves up, lifting their voices in astonishment, staring at a visiplate from which had disappeared that gigantic, threatening orb. * * * * * A visiplate in which was now depicted sweet, jet depths of darkness, pin-pricked with glowing points of light! Cap Hanson's voice was a paean of joy. "We're home again! Home in our own universe! By God--in our own solar system! For there's Io, the pretty little devil!" Helen was crying, "Then you didn't fail, Hank! It worked! We're saved!" And Biggs, only sane man in a roomful of delight-maddened lunatics, was ambling to the audio, face wreathed in a seraphic grin. "Garrity?" he called down to the chief engineer. "Take a look out the viewpanes if you want to holler with joy. And then--set course for home! And, oh, yes, Garrity--set men to work immediately on the repairing of the temporal deflector."