The one thousand years passed by, however, and the Jap two-seater was down on the flight deck, trundling forward while deck crews hung onto the wingtips. And finally they managed to drag it to a halt. A choking gasp of unbounded relief burst from Dawson's lips. And tears of inexpressible joy made his eyes smart as he caught sight of Colonel Welsh and Admiral Jackson racing across the flight deck toward the Jap plane. Laughing and choking in the same breath, Dawson heaved himself up out of the pit, stepped out on the wing but missed his footing and fell sprawling on the wing. He slid off it feet first, so he was standing on the deck when the Colonel and the Admiral came up.
"Here we are again, sir," Dawson cried. "Just like a couple of bad pennies that—that—"
His tongue seemed to stick in his mouth, and the Carson seemed to spin like a top.
"Dave!" he heard Freddy Farmer scream. "Somebody—quick—catch him!"
"Here, Dawson, steady!" he heard Colonel Welsh shout.
"Good grief!" cried a third voice. "Look at his chest! Good grief. The man's hit bad. Here, somebody...!"
But Dawson didn't hear any more. The Carrier Carson turned upside down and smashed him on the head with its flight deck. Then there was nothing but complete silence and utter darkness.
It was a beautiful pink-tinted cloud that was carrying Dawson through a beautiful world filled with soft and soothing music. Never had he felt so rested, and so comfortable. So much so that he just couldn't be bothered trying to figure out where he was, or what had happened to put him there. Maybe it was Heaven. He didn't know, and he didn't care. If it wasn't Heaven, then it was certainly the next best thing. Whatever it was it suited him perfectly, and he was quite willing to stay where he was indefinitely.
However, that was not to be!