"Thinking the same thing. Suppose the Contraption, whatever it's done—suppose it works two ways? A swap, a trade?"
"But Doug that's—"
He smiled. Dot was suddenly silent with the knowledge that whether she liked it or not, she could no longer refuse to accept the facts as they were, could no longer cross off their implications for want of bolder imagination.
"Are we—is it the ... the future?"
"Maybe. You could even ask 'is this Earth?' and I couldn't tell you. I wonder what they think where they are ... I wonder if they know."
"Doug, would they—do anything? To Terry and Mike, I mean?"
"I sure hope not—and I don't think so. The boys will be all right—they know their way around back home—whomever it is we've replaced is in the same boat we are. They'd think more than twice before rashly committing themselves to trouble. They're probably trying to communicate with the kids—if the kids stuck around that long. I'm wondering more about the Contraption. If they start fooling with it...."
"Then we'd go back?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. I think though that they'd leave it alone, on the theory that whoever invented it knows its use, knows how to handle it safely. They'd be wrong, but I think that's how they'd figure it. I don't think any one'll dare touch it, simply out of sheer fear of what might happen next."
"I'm scared, Doug. Awful scared."