When the men from the spaceport lifted away tons of rubble, they found him and said, "He's dead."
No, I'm not, Collins thought. I'm alive.
And then they saw that he really was alive, that he had come through it alive somehow, and nobody remembered anything like it since the airliner crash in '59.
A while later, after they found Doc Candle's body and court-martialed Smith-Boerke, who took drugs, Nancy was nuzzling him on his hospital bed. It was nice, but he wasn't paying much attention.
I'm free, Collins thought as the girl hugged him. Free! He kissed her.
Well, he thought while she was kissing him back, as free as I want to be, anyway.
END
Transcriber's Note:
This e-text was produced from Worlds of If January 1962. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.