Gilbert paused, then said, “I never thought so. There were too many consistent details in his history. He had tried to put down the whole of his world on paper. He even wrote an English- Blodlandish comparative grammar and dictionary. I became fascinated by the manuscript—which has more than 5,000 pages—and made the study of it my hobby. I investigated the tales of other strange appearances and became convinced that another Earth existed. And that, from time to time, men somehow passed from one world to another.

“Are you sure you’ve never heard of Sir Humphrey Gilbert?”

Two Hawks shook his head. “If I read anything about him, I’ve forgotten it. And I’m an omnivorous reader, too. I graze in all fields.”

“Perhaps he was only one of many who perished during their explorations. It doesn’t matter. What does is that your presence here verifies his story. It is more than a fantasy. And my research has convinced me of one thing. The ‘gates’ are certain weak spots in the forces that separate the two universes. They only open at infrequent intervals, perhaps most of them never more than once.”

He leaned towards Two Hawks, his eyes bright. “But I believe that I’ve located one gate that is more or less permanent. At least, it is in one place, and it has opened up more than once and may again.”

Two Hawks became excited. “You know of such a place? Where?”

“I’ve never actually seen it,” Gilbert replied. “I was planning to take a trip there to investigate, but the war stopped me. However, I came across a reference to something that sounds like a gate while I was reading a book on the sorcerers of Hivika.”

Hivika, Two Hawks thought. That was the name of the chain of islands that was the only prominent feature of the sunken North American continent. He had seen their name on maps. From their location, they should be the upper part of the Rockies. The largest island was approximately where the state of Colorado was on Earth 1.

Polynesians, immigrants from Hawaii, inhabited the mountainous islands. And, so far, Hivika had remained neutral and independent. The Hivikan inhabitants, like the Maori of Earth 1, had learned early how to make guns and gunpowder on their own and how to use them effectively. The first Old Worlders to make contact with the Hivikans had not been Europeans but the Arabic Ikhwani of South Africa. These had carried on trade with Hivika for a hundred years before the first Blodlandish ship had accidentally discovered the islands. The Europeans found a handsome and intelligent brown people who mined iron and gold, sailed ships armed with cannon, and were not awed by the white man’s technology. Moreover, the Hivikans had gone through several plagues brought to them by the Ikhwan. The descendants of the survivors were fairly resistant to European diseases.

Gilbert said, “The Hivika still practice the old religion, you know. Their priests, who claim to be sorcerers, keep constant vigilance over certain tabu places. One of these is a cave high up on the loftiest mountain of the largest island. Not much is known about the cave, but a Perkunishan scholar found out some things. The priests call the cave The Hole Between The Worlds. Terrible sounds sometimes come from the rear of the cave, where the Hole sometimes appears. The back wall of the cave seems to dissolve, and the priests get glimpses into another world. Perhaps world is not the right translation for the word they use. It could mean the Place of the Gods. The priests dare not go near the ‘gate’, because they believe that the chief god, Ke Aku’a, lives in this world.”

Two Hawks said, “This is too good to be true. I’m afraid to get too excited about it. It’ll probably turn out to be some natural phenomenon.”

“The gates are natural phenomena.” Gilbert said. “It’s certainly worth investigating, don’t you agree?”

“I intend to investigate,” Two Hawks said. “In fact, I’d like to leave for Hivika right now. Only, it’s impossible.”

“When the war’s over, we might go together. If there is a gate through which we could pass, I’d like very much to see the Earth of my ancestor.”

Two Hawks did not reply, but he was thinking that, for Gilbert, Earth 1 might be an interesting place to visit but not to live in. Gilbert would have the same sense of dislocation, of utter severance, that Two Hawks and O’Brien had had. Even now, despite an increasing familiarity with this planet, Two Hawks never felt quite at ease. He just did not belong.

However, it was a feeling he could endure with no more than a little bit of discomfort and out- of-jointedness most of the time. The nights were the worse, when he was alone.

Somebody knocked on the compartment door. Two Hawks opened it, a young officer saluted and said, “Beg your pardon, Koiran. The Lady Thorrsstein has taken ill, and she’s asked for you.”

Two Hawks followed the officer into Ilmika’s car. He found her lying on the seat, surrounded by solicitous men. She was very pale but had recovered from her faint. A doctor standing over her said to Two Hawks, “She’ll be all right as soon as she gets something to eat.”

Two Hawks said, “Ilmika, why didn’t you ask...?” He stopped, then said, “No, you’d be too proud.”

“Hers is not an uncommon story in these unhappy times,” the doctor said. “There are many high- born who have lost their lands—money, everything but their titles. And...”

The doctor closed his mouth as if he had said too much. Two Hawks looked sharply at him. He seemed to be deriving some sort of satisfaction from Ilmika’s condition. Probably, he was a commoner, and, like many, shared the repressed but very keen resentment of the lower classes towards the privileged. Two Hawks understood their feeling, since the majority suffered hardships and injustices exceeding those of the lower classes of the early 18th century of his own planet. Nevertheless, he was angry at the doctor. Ilmika was a human being who had also gone through many privations and griefs. Her family was dead; her home and possessions were in the hands of the enemy. And, as he talked to her while he fed her hot soup, he discovered she did not have a coin to her name.

She wept while she drank the soup. “I couldn’t help fainting. Now, everybody knows how destitute I am. I am a charity case. The name of Thorrsstein is disgraced.”

“Disgraced?” he said quietly. “If you are, so is three-fourths of the nobility of Blodland. Why should you be so proud? It’s the fault of the war, not you. Besides, now is the time to show that nobility is made of stronger stuff than a mere name. You have to act noble to be noble.”

She smiled weakly. He got a slice of ham from one officer and a piece of bread from another and fed them to her. When she had finished eating, she whispered to him, “If only I could get away from their stares.”

“There’s room in my compartment for you,” he said. He lifted her up, and, supporting her, got her to his compartment. She lay down on one of the seats and was quickly asleep. When she awoke late that evening, he had supper with her in the compartment. Gilbert had gone to the dining car, and Kwasind was outside the door, so they were alone. Two Hawks waited until they had eaten the cold and coarse food. Then he asked her if she would work for him. He needed a secretary, he said. She turned so red that he thought he had angered her. But when he heard her stammer, he understood that she had mistaken the intent of the offer.

He laughed, although he was not amused, and said, “No, Milady, I am not asking you to be my mistress. You will have to do nothing beyond the requirements of your secretarial duties.”

She said, “Why shouldn’t I be your whore? I owe you so much.”

“You don’t owe me that much! Even if you did, I’d never ask you to pay up. I want a woman who loves me—or at least desires me.”