“We had no idea you were so advanced scientifically,” said the Thaarns. “But we haven’t time to talk about the theory. All that matters is this—if you were to step into that opening in front of you, you’d find yourself instantly on another planet. It’s a short cut, as you said—in this case through the thirty-seventh dimension.”
“And it leads to your world?”
“Oh no—you couldn’t live here. But there are plenty of planets like Earth in the universe, and we’ve found one that will suit you. We’ll establish bridgeheads like this all over Earth, so your people will only have to walk through them to be saved. Of course, they’ll have to start building up civilization again when they reach their new homes, but it’s their only hope. You have to pass on this message, and tell them what to do.”
“I can just see them listening to me,” said Bill. “Why don’t you go and talk to the president?”
“Because yours was the only mind we were able to contact. Others seemed closed to us: we don’t understand why.”
“I could tell you,” said Bill, looking at the nearly empty bottle in front of him. He was certainly getting his money’s worth. What a remarkable thing the human mind was! Of course, there was nothing at all original in this dialogue: it was easy to see where the ideas came from. Only last week he’d been reading a story about the end of the world, and all this wishful thinking about bridges and tunnels through space was pretty obvious compensation for anyone who’d spent five years wrestling with recalcitrant rockets.
“If the sun does blow up,” Bill asked abruptly—trying to catch his hallucination unawares—’what would happen?”
“Why, your planet would be melted instantly. All the planets, in fact, right out to Jupiter.”
Bill had to admit that this was quite a grandiose conception. He let his mind play with the thought, and the more he considered it, the more he liked it.
“My dear hallucination,” he remarked pityingly, “if I believed you, d’you know what I’d say?”