The Universe Between
by Alan E. Nourse
Bob Benedict is one of the few scientists able to make contact with the invisible, dangerous world of The Thresholders and return—sane! For years he has tried to transport—and receive—matter by transmitting it through the mysterious, parallel Threshold. At first his efforts met only with failure and madness. But now The Thresholders have risen in fury. Somehow Bob Benedict must make one more trip into that land of peril and pacify them before they succeed in hurling his planet—piece by piece-into the oblivion of infinity.
A terrifying twist in time and space threatens parallel worlds with total destruction!
An exciting, thought-provoking story.
Plenty of quick, colorful action.
“A fascinating adventure into the fourth dimension, written by one of the masters of science-fiction adventure... excellent reading.”
Good science-fiction, exciting reading for fans old and new.”
“Startling... highly imaginative...”
The Universe Between is “. . . engrossing science fiction that will be welcomed by all science fiction fans.”
To save Earth, Bob Benedict must venture once more into the invisible, dangerous world of The Thresholders. If he fails to return—sane—Earth, and all those who inhabit the planet, will be hurled into oblivion.
“. . . fascinating science fiction . . . the action moves rapidly and there is a great deal of suspense and excitement. . . . Recommended.” (Spokane Public Schools)
“Highly imaginative. . .”
Copyright Page
PAPERBACK LIBRARY EDITION
First Printing: May, 1967
THE UNIVERSE BETWEEN, copyright © 1951, 1965 by Alan E. Nourse. All rights reserved. This edition reprinted by arrangement with David McKay Company, Inc.
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 65-24489
Paperback Library books are published by Paperback Library, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words “Paperback Library” and associated distinctive design, is registered in the United States Patent Ofice. Paperback Library, Inc., 260 Park Avenue South, New York, N.Y. 10010.
Publication Info
Portions of this book were originally published, in different form, in Astounding Science Fiction (now Analog Science Fact and Fiction) in stories entitled “High Threshold” and “The Universe Between.” Copyright 1951 by Street and Smith publications. The novel itself was published with additional material in 1967 as a Paperback Library Edition.
The Universe Between
To John W. Campbell, Jr.
in appreciation
Part One
The Door Into Nowhere
—1—
They cut the current the instant the trouble began, switched off the main pumps and broke into the vault. Half-dragging the man from the chamber, they tried to slap him into silence as he screamed, cowering and shrieking and covering his face with both hands. Finally a sedative shot quelled the original attack; the man just sat blubbering in a chair, staring at nothing, his whole body shaking violently. Then, like the others, he took a sudden breath and sagged forward. The doctor from the Hoffman Center caught him and eased him down to the floor. They had the resuscitator and heart-stimulator at hand, of course, but it was no good. Five minutes later the man’s pulse and blood pressure were gone. He was dead.
Dr. John McEvoy twisted the small round object from his clenched fist and examined it under the arc light: an eight-centimeter ball of rubber, slick and smooth on the outside. With a pocket knife McEvoy sliced through the outer covering of the ball to reveal the fuzzy down that lined the hollow interior. Angrily, he tossed the ball to the technician. “There’s your tennis ball,” he said.
The doctor was examining the man’s body as the rest of the lab crew clustered about.
He looked up at McEvoy and spread his hands. “The same as the other two,” he said hopelessly. “No marks, no nothing. And the post-mortem won’t tell us anything more. Total cardiovascular collapse, with cardiac arrest. Maybe adrenal exhaustion, though I don’t see how a psychic trauma could get to the endocrine function so fast.”
“Oh, come on, Doc,” McEvoy snapped. “Translate it.”
“The man died of fear. Or shock. Or both.”
McEvoy clenched a heavy fist. “Same wretched thing again, then.” He turned away, slamming the fist into his other hand. As director of this whole branch of research in the sprawling Telcom Laboratories, John McEvoy had been trapped in the middle from the beginning. It was his responsibility, even though some of the bright-eyed boys on his staff had actually started the thing. He turned to his assistant. “Well, what about it? Where do we go next?”
The technician tossed the peculiar tennis ball into the air a time or two, staring at the body on the floor. “Well, one thing is certain. We can’t go on like this.”
“Obviously not,” McEvoy said. “But we’ve got to go on somehow. We can’t let this thing slide by. It’s right in front of us—right at our fingertips! And we can’t seem to touch it. Can’t even get near it. But we can’t quit now, just because…”
“Just because everybody dies?” The man met McEvoy’s eyes. “That’s what you’re really saying, you know. And you’re the one who talked that poor guy into it. ‘Nothing to worry about, we’ve got the bugs out of it this time,’ you said. Good old McEvoy, always the persuader. So now he’s dead. How would you like to go in there next time?”
“Not I,” said McEvoy, glancing quickly away from the body on the floor. “Not after that, not I.”
—2—
“The fact remains, Dr. McEvoy, that you’re going to have to close it down.” The little man with the red face tamped his pipe and applied a match to it. Across the small office room pale afternoon sunlight was filtering in the window. McEvoy felt as bleak as the South Jersey barrens he could see outside. The little man with the pipe stared at him and the Hoffman Center doctor from behind the wide desk. He didn’t look like much, this little man, but he was power—the final word at Telcom Laboratories, the co-ordinator of all the research projects under way in this whole great communications-equipment organization. What this little man decided was what was going to happen; McEvoy knew that. “We just can’t have any more accidents of this sort on that project,” the little man went on quietly. “Telcom has given you free sanction in your work here so far; we don’t believe in hiring good men and then handcuffing them. But if you don’t clamp down on this now, we will. Already we have a committee of the International Joint Conference on our necks. Did you know that I’ve spent all day on the Washington line beating off bureaucrats who want to know what on earth you’re doing up here that’s taken three lives already and put two other good men into a Hoffman Center lock-ward for the mentally deranged? Next thing, we’ll be facing a full-fledged government inquiry, with an injunction slapped on everything we’re doing here, and Telcom Laboratories doesn’t care to have that happen.” The red-faced co-ordinator paused. “To say nothing of the moral questions involved.”