the sky, Sirius rose with a brassy glare. Near it he could see its white hot dwarf star companion. It was going to be a real scorcher, he decided; worse than any desert on Earth. He sat up stiffly.

On the tele-talkie screen, Reinhardt, alone in the radio room, was calling quietly for Brandon. The bulkhead door swung open and Towers poked his head through.

“Knock that off,” said Towers sternly, “and take your landing station.” As Reinhardt rose to his feet, Brandon reached over and turned off the set.

Brandon took a deep breath. His head spun and for the first time he realized that he was still alive. He gazed across the shimmering desert to a ridge of scrubby hills. Blue mountains rose up beyond them. Great floes of black lava had rolled down onto the desert floor at some distant time. They were spotted with clumps of gray grass even as was the desert. The hills were studded with weird trees standing stiff, branches outstretched, like an army of scarecrows.

The air of Sirius Three was doing strange things to him. Two of the trees seemed to be [p28] moving. He swayed and sat heavily.

As he watched through a haze of red dust whipped up by the morning breeze, the two trees came closer, turned into men wearing desert uniforms and leaned over him.

“Are you okay?” one of them asked.

Brandon said nothing.

“We saw you from our observation station over on the hill,” said the other pointing.

They helped Brandon to his feet and gave him a swig of cool, sweet water from a canteen.

“I’m Captain Brandon, of the Astro One.”

“Astro One?” The man removed his pith helmet to wipe his brow and Brandon noticed the gleaming US insignia on the front of the helmet. “The Astro One left Earth thirteen years ago,” the man said.

“Only four years by RT,” Brandon said.

The man smiled and put his helmet back on his head. “A lot of things have happened since you left. There was a war which we won, and I guess you guys were almost forgotten. And there was a lot of technological development.”

“You mean you had a quantum jump?” asked Brandon parroting Colonel Towers’ favorite expression.

“Odd you would know that,” replied the second man. “It was through quantum mechanics that we learned to approximate the speed of light. While nine years pass on Earth when we make the trip, our RT is mere moments.”

“Good Lord!” Brandon said. “You must have passed us up.”

“Been on this planet for nearly a year,” the first man said. “Got men on dozens of planetary systems throughout the Milky Way. One ship went a thousand light years out. By the time they come back, civilization on Earth will be two thousand years older.”

“Have you got a tele-talkie?” Brandon asked.

“Sure,” said the first man, producing a set one-third the size of Brandon’s.

“Could you tune it to 28.6 microcycles?”

“Sure,” the man said again. He turned a dial with his thumb and handed the unit to Brandon. Brandon depressed the “talk” button. A crystal clear image of Colonel Towers, putting the finishing touches on his full dress uniform, appeared on the screen.

“This is an historic occasion,” Colonel Towers was announcing to his crew. “Open the hatch—and, Reinhardt, be sure to stand by with the motion picture camera.”

“Excuse me, Colonel Towers,” said Brandon quietly.

Towers swung around and looked out at Brandon. The colonel’s face paled.

“I have something to tell you,” said Brandon grinning, “about the quantum jump.”

THE END