"My question."

"Captain, I was not aware that you had asked me a question. Would you mind repeating it?"

"Oh, forget it, forget it! Chief Pilot!"

"Captain."

"Deety, what's the voice program to rotate us a full circle around W axis?"

"Shall I spell it, sir? S.G. is awake."

"No, do it. Turn out your instrument lights. Pilots watch forward, Captain and Astrogator will watch the sides. Do it. Execute."

Instrument lights dimmed to zero, leaving us in the darkest dark I have ever experienced. I heard a repressed moan and felt a burst of sympathy for my daughter; she had never liked total darkness. But she carried out my orders:

"Gay Deceiver, Tumbling Pigeon."

"Forward somersault-whee!"

"Execute."

I felt pressure against my belts-being forward of the center of mass we were starting a gentle outside loop. I started counting seconds as I recalled that this program took twenty seconds.

I had reached seventy-eight seconds and was beginning to wonder when Deety announced "Twenty seconds" as the autopilot announced, "End of program."

Deety said, "You're a Smart Girl, Gay."

"If I were smart, would I be doing this? Over."

"Roger and out, Gay. Captain, 'I request permission to switch on cabin lights."

"Permission granted. Report observations. Copilot?"

"Skipper, I saw nothing."

"Deety?"

"Nothing."

"Hilda?"

"Jacob, I didn't see anything. Can't we get out of this universe? It stinks."

"That stink is me," our copilot said. "The reek of fear. Captain, of what use is an empty universe?"

"Zeb, 'empty universe' is a meaningless expression. Space-time implies mass-energy, and vice versa."

"Captain, it looks empty to me."

"And to me. I'm faced by a dilemma in theory. Is the mass in this spacetime so far away that we can't see it? Or is it in a state of 'Cold Death,' level entropy? Or did we create this universe by rotating?"

"Create it'-.---Huh?"

"A possibility," I pointed out. "If we are the only mass in this universe, then this universe had no existence until we created it by rotation. But it will not collapse when we rotate out, because we will be leaving behind quanta we are radiating."

"Hmm- Captain, I'm bothered by something else. We started from universe-ten and made one ninety-degree rotation. Correct?"

"Yes. We rotated around 'x' and thereby moved each of the other five axes ninety degrees. We are now experiencing duration along 'y.' Teh and 'z' are spatial coordinates now, and 'x' remains spatial because we rotated on it. Tau and 't' are now null, unused."

"Mmm- Deety, what Greenwich time is it?" Zeb glanced at the instrument board.

"Uh- Seventeen: thirteen: oh-nine."

"Smart Girl says you are twenty seconds slow." Zeb looked at his navigator's watch. "But my watch splits the difference. How many minutes since we left Windsor City?"

"Thirty-nine minutes, thirteen seconds. Ask me a hard one."

"I'm going to ask your father a hard one. Captain, if you tell G.D. to scram to Windsor P.G. right now mark!-what will the Greenwich time be?"

"Look at your clock. About a quarter past seventeen hundred."

"But you told me that, since rotating, we've been experiencing duration along 'y' axis."

"But- Oh! Zeb, I'm stupid. No time has elapsed on 't' axis since the instant we rotated If we reversed the rotation, we would go back to that exact instant."

"Deety hon?" Zeb asked. "Do you agree?"

(I felt annoyed that my son-in-law consulted my daughter as to the correctness of my professional opinion-then suppressed the thought. Deety will always be my little girl, which makes it hard for me to remember that she is also my professional colleague.)

My daughter suddenly looked upset. "I- Pop! That first trip to the world Without the letter 'J'-time did pass, it did!"

Zeb said gently, "But that was translation, Deety. You continued to experience duration along 't' axis."

Deety thought about it, then said sorrowfully, "Zebadiah, I no longer know What time it is. Pop is correct; we experience duration on one axis only, and

that is now 'y' axis. We can't experience duration on two axes at once." She heaved a sigh. "Will I ever get the clock in my head set right again?"

"Sure you will," my son-in-law reassured her. "Like crossing a time zone. Shortly after we grounded on Mars-ten, your head started keeping time both in Greenwich and in Mars Touchdown meridian time, even though Touchdown time kept falling farther behind hour after hour. A simple index correction won't bother you. My sweet, you don't realize how smart you are."

Zeb patted her hand, then looked around at me. "Captain, may I propose a change in schedule?"

"Let's hear it."

"Sir, I would like two sequences. First, go back to Windsor P.G. with the verniers preset for a hundred thousand klicks straight up, and execute at once. Then translate back to our own universe-zero-but not to Earth-zero. Instead, set up an orbit around Mars-zero. That orbit becomes our base of operations."

I said, "Simple enough. But why?"

"So that we will always have somewhere to go back to. Deety can write us a program that will place us back in that orbit. Something like G, A, Y, H, 0, M, E, but based on Mars-zero-with elbow room."

I asked, "Daughter, can you write such a program?"

"I think so, Pop. An emergency scram? G, A, Y, plus something?" Deety paused. "Sagan.' G, A, Y, S, A, G, A, N means to return to orbit around Marszero. Built-in mnemonic."

"Satisfactory. Is that all, Copilot?"

"No, sir. Our schedule breaks up naturally into a five group, a four group, a three, a two, and a one. I would like to add to each group a return to orbit around Mars-zero. Captain, if you were on the verniers, I wouldn't worry; you know them so well. I don't. If I do fifteen rotations, one right after the other, I'm afraid I'll make some tiny mistake and we'll wind up in analog-AndromedaNebula in universe a thousand-and-two on 'z' axis, with no idea how wa got there or how to get home."

"Copilot, you worry too much."

"Probably. Captain, my whole life is based on being chicken at every opportunity. I'll breathe easier if I come back to a familiar orbit at the end of each group... and know that the next group is one less. It won't take ten minutes longer to do it my way and I'll be less likely to make mistakes. But tackling all fifteen at a slug scares me."

"Captain Jacob-"

"Not now, Hilda. I must settle this with-"

"Captain, I am required to advise you."

"Eh? All right, all right! Make it snappy."

"You know-we all know-that Zebbie's premonitions must not be ignored. I advise you officially- Gay Deceiver, record this 'I-tell-you-three-times."

"Hilda, I hear you three times."

"Captain Jacob, I, your second-in-command, advise you officially to revise the schedule of rotations in the fashion recommended by the copilot. End of I-tell-you-three-times."

(Have you ever found yourself boxed in? Damn it, I intended to let Zeb do it his way; I am not unreasonable. I can't say that I believe in Zeb's premonitions; I suspect that he is simply a man with extremely fast reflexes. But both our wives believe in them and Zeb does himself. I found myself faced with mutiny unless I did exactly what I had intended to do anyway! How does one describe 50 ironical a situation?)

Shortly I found myself saying, "Copilot, by revised schedule, set second rotation of first group." We were in "Sagan" orbit around Mars of Universezero (i.e., the one we had grown up in: Galactic coordinates X0, Y0, Z0, & t0- Earth-zero, Mars-zero, Sun-zero, Universe-zero). I tend to think of this as the "real" universe even though I am aware that there is no evidence or mathematical theory for preferring one frame of reference over another-to do so is egocentric provincialism at its worst. But I offer this in mitigation: for us it was simplest and thereby helped us to avoid getting lost.