Heaving herself to her feet, she stomped out of the laboratory and off up the basement stairs.
Fists clenched, Horning watched her go. Then, wearily, he crossed to his ancient desk and dropped down in the chair.
As always, Myrtle had won. The first time he left the house she'd be at work here--breaking down the door, smashing his equipment and his dreams.
And as for Margaret.... He smoothed her picture. But the features blurred and his eyes began to burn, till at last he pushed the photograph back in his pocket and slumped forward on his arms.
How long he lay there he never knew. Later, sometimes, he thought perhaps he'd slept.
Then, dimly, he became conscious of a sound ... a humming, persistent vibrance that grew steadily louder. It dawned on him that he'd forgotten to turn off the light-loop's master switch.
He got up and started towards the control panel.
In the same instant, he glimpsed a shadowy figure, framed in the door-like scaffolding of tubes and metal that formed the gateway to the shining silver plain that lay like a shimmering no-man's land between the parallel worlds.
The figure outlined in the light-loop grew sharper. A man lurched through the frame, into the room. His face was Horning's face, and he staggered under the weight of a transdimensional registration unit, plus a great, bulging, cumbersome bundle slung across his shoulder.
His visitor said, "Hold it!" sharply and brought a snub-barreled, too-familiar pistol into view.
The man from beyond the barrier laughed and spilled the bulky bundle off his shoulder, down onto the floor. "Of course, Doctor! I thought I'd return your visit." He prodded the bundle with his toe. "I even brought you a present."
"But ... I thought you said you'd never developed a successful transit unit...."
"I hadn't, till you came along and showed me how. As I told you, I'd worked out the components. Once I had a chance to look over your unit, integrating them was no job at all."
The man with Horning's face laughed again. "That comes later, my friend. After you've admired the present I brought you."
Horning eyed the bundle. Limp and bulky, it was nearly six feet long and wrapped loosely in a covering of some greenish plastic.
"Go ahead. Look it over," his visitor invited, gesturing with the gun. "It's all yours."