The Black Gate by Michael R. Hicks

reappear somewhere else: you come right back out the other side of the gate. Think of it, perhaps, as a train riding a circular track, but one that has countless sidings. ”
    Peter frowned, confused. “Then what is its practical application, if not as a means of transport for our troops or weapons? What does it do?”
    Von Falkenstein leaned forward. “A traveler sent on a trip aboard this train is physically transformed.”
    “Transformed?” Peter had difficulty keeping the incredulity from his voice. He wanted to let loose the hysterical laughter he felt building in side him, but dared not. “How?”
    “We do not yet fully understand the process, but the sidings along the circular rail line that I alluded to correspond to points along what we now call an evolutionary trajectory. The precise trajectory followed by a traveler may be varied to an infinite degree by tuning the coordinates of the gate…”
    “Which are determined by the computer,” Peter murmured softly.
    Von Falkenstein nodded, pleased. “ Ja , which are determined by the computer. And each trajectory sends the traveler on a different evolutionary path. You are familiar with Darwin, of course?”  
    “His theory of evolution? Certainly, sir,” Peter said slowly as he tried to grasp his meaning. “So, you’re saying that you send a human through the gate here, but when he returns to our universe — I assume appearing out the bottom of the gate where the lower cage is — he has…evolved to something beyond homo sapiens ?” Von Falkenstein nodded. “Evolved into what?”
    “Any manner of things!” Von Falkenstein boomed. “We have already done a great deal of experimentation and the possibilities seem nearly endless. Unfortunately, we are constrained by the immediate needs of the Reich. After much experimentation, we have settled upon an evolution that will serve as the basis for a new breed of soldier for the Reich. We had perfected the prototype just before the troubles began with the gate’s computer.”
    Hoth shot Baumann a disgusted look, but said nothing.
    “And that would be?” Peter asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.  
    Von Falkenstein narrowed his eyes slightly. “It will be better for you to see than for me to try and explain. I realize it is difficult to grasp now, but all will become clear quite soon.”  
    As von Falkenstein turned his attention to his meal and conversation around the table resumed, Peter took a sip of wine. He remembered that Mina had refused to tell him anything about the project when he had first arrived because he would not believe.  
    She certainly had been right about that , he decided.
    Looking up, he caught her eyes for a moment, and the wine turned sour in his stomach at the terror he saw reflected in them.  

THE ABYSS
    Peter was falling, forever falling, through a sea of endless darkness as world-splitting lightning crackled all around him, threatening to rend the fabric of the universe itself. But the darkness was not empty. Sinister shadows, grotesque and twisted, writhed in the ether like malevolent nebulae, with dying red suns in place of eyes. Those countless, heartless coals that had once been vibrant stars were fixed upon him, for he did not belong here. His very essence was anathema to this place, a fundamental wrongness that he could not understand, but could sense with perfect clarity. His body was enveloped by an aura of white light, and just as a moth is drawn to a flame, so were the titanic monstrosities of this place drawn to him. A pulsing mind-numbing wave of limitless hate swept through him, threatening to crush his spirit and rend his soul with despair. As the things reached out for him, the swirling gases of this dark universe coalescing into claws that could crush the sun that gave life to the planet of his birth, he opened his mouth to scream…
    Peter shot up out of bed, the scream still on his lips. Taking in a huge gulp of air, he fought to calm his pounding