 16 Gunnar and Odin followed the hedge for a long way until they came out against the far side of the dome. The noise of fighting still continued. It was back of them but drawing nearer. Odin guessed or hoped that Ato and Val were driving the defenders before them. They came out upon a lane that was flanked by the beautiful colonnades. Near them was one of the entrances to the tunnels below, and beside it was one of the stone cressets with a high flaring flame. At the end of the lane was a deus. Upon this deus stood Grimhagen, shouting in instructions to a crew of white-skinned soldiers below him who were trying to set up a strange machine. It looked like a model of Saturn balanced upon a tripod, except that it had three concentric rings about it. Grimhagen's shirt was scorched and tattered. It was falling from his lean shoulders. His face was seamed and lined. The muscles upon his neck stood out in cords. His hair was gray now. His left arm was gashed from elbow to wrist, and blood was dripping down his fingers. He dashed the drops aside as he screamed orders. His black eyes still blazed with that old feral hate, and though the years had twisted him, his hips were still as thin as an apaches, and he looked iron-hard. Odin and Gunnar knelt beside the railing that marked the entrance to the tunnels below. Neither Hagen nor his men saw them. Gunnar grasped Odin's shoulders and pulled him down. "'It isn't,' he whispered in Odin's ear. "'Do you hear anything strange?' Odin listened. Above the tumult behind them came that same sound which he had heard out in the plane. A whining, purring sound. The purring of a tiger feeding contentedly. Then screams drowned out the whining sound, and Odin wondered if he had not imagined it. Nearly a hundred of the defenders came running toward Grimhagen. They were in mad flight now. Most of them were weaponless. Grimhagen cursed them, rallied them about and urged them to pick up new weapons and fight. Now Ato and Val and another hundred men came charging forward. Leaving three men to set up the strange machine, Grimhagen's trained Aldevarians met them. They clashed head on, blade against blade, fist against bone. They held there like two wrestlers evenly matched. For a moment Grimhagen's men were forced back. Then some new defenders swarmed out of the side alleys and joined them. A head was poked up from the stairway below. Gunnar split the man's skull and sent him tumbling down upon some new replacements. Now Grimhagen spied Odin and Gunnar as they advanced to help Ato. Standing upon the deus, his face livid with rage. Hagen pointed to them and screamed. As mad as any of the last Caesar's who had gone insane from too much power. Look men of the Lawrence! Hagen cried, still pointing. I will give immortality to the men who bring me those two alive! The first two to reach Gunnar and Odin died at the end of Gunnar and Odin's swords. Your immortality doesn't last very long, Grimhagen! Gunnar shouted as he wiped his blade. Then another man came up the stairway. Odin killed him and flung him back upon the men who followed. But reinforcements were pouring in from other lanes. Grimhagen and his men now numbered over a thousand. Seeing Odin and Gunnar, Ato swung his men over against the subway entrance. They rallied there. Grimhagen's soldiers came at them. Ato, Gunnar and Odin stood side by side and led the counterattack that forced them back upon Grimhagen's strange machine. But Hagen's men rallied and drove them back again, almost to the stairway. The next drive will get us. Ato groaned. Race yourselves, men! But the next drive did not come. Suddenly a dozen screaming wretches, they can no longer be called soldiers, came running up the street. They joined Grimhagen's men and gibbered in fear as they pointed back. From down there came a sudden burst of music. Odin's heart leaped when he heard it. It was the old Song of the Bronze, but the lights were burning low back there and as yet he could see nothing. Then they came, Nia and Mea, walking side by side. Behind them were a half-dozen women playing fiefs and horns. One was carrying a tattered flag. Behind the musicians came a motley crowd. Old women, young women, half-grown children and dozens of old men, all were armed. And they came forward like a rack of a surviving army at Judgement Day. Oh, there was something noble about them and pitiful too, and something terrible, for before them floating upon the air like bobbing heads were Nia's four phantoms, the Kalis, whining hungrily as they came, their copper hair trailing about them. One caught a fugitive as he lagged behind and he died screaming. The Kalis started this way and that, and Grimhagen's men writhed. Their muscles clenched, their jaws set as though tetanus had struck them. They slid to the marble street and died. And the Kalis laughed and whined and screamed as they fed. Even above their feeding song and the screams of their victims came the shrill triumphant cry of Nia urging them on. Nor was the rest of Mea's army still. One old brawn who had been a slave of Grimhagen for too long had found a shotgun among Grimhagen's treasures and was blasting away. They were armed with everything from staves, blunderbuses, old .44s and sharps rifles to machine guns. They fired and fired. Grimhagen's men went down. But though dozens of ill-aimed shots were fired at him, Grimhagen still lived, dodging here and there, rallying his men and urging his gun crew to finish setting up that odd weapon. They were left of the thousand that had rallied to Grimhagen, but another thousand were coming up through the hedges from other lanes and streets. Although it was a gallant, ragged little army that Nia and Mea led, it would have lasted no longer than a straw in a whirlwind had it not been for the Kalis. They appeared to be enjoying themselves. Even as Grimhagen's men were not. They zigzagged this way and that. They purred. They fed. They were stronger now, and their movements were quicker. Their victims died faster. And as they forged forward, Nia was growing in strength. She leapt after them, leaving Mea to command the small army. She screamed. She urged them on with a kill, kill, kill that froze the back of Odin's neck. Here was no girl trained to work in a laboratory. This was a high priestess, long to write it and forgotten, come back from the stars to recur vengeance. Good God! Odin was thinking. What unexplored labyrinths are left in the human brain? Then there was no time for thinking. The Lawrence, who were trying to gain the stairway, had finally dislodged the two bodies that Odin and Gunnar had flung down upon them. They came up like a surging tide, and for the next few minutes Odin and Gunnar were busy. Gunnar had never been any happier in his life. He talked to his sword and he growled at those who they killed. He yelled at Eito and Mea's wearying armies, urging them to go on and account themselves well. He stood by Odin's side, and the two hacked and thrust until the stairway was chocked with bodies and no one was left to assail them. He and Odin were splashed with blood. The tumult was deafening. The tiger screams of the Calus, the agonized torment of their prey, the gun blast from Mea's army, the cry of Eito, who had hacked his way almost to Gunnar and Odin, the victory scream of Mea and broken music. Even above all this the mad curses and commands of Grimhagen. Some of Grimhagen's Lawrence were in flight. Most of them were dead, but his white-skinned warriors held firm. Not over a dozen were left at Grimhagen's side. Two were still working with the odd-shaped weapon. There were other Lawrence coming out of the hedges, but they held back they had seen enough. Had Fortune favored Eito then, his army would have won. But at the precise moment when the balance was swinging toward the bronze, Grimhagen's gun crew got the strange weapon unlimbered. The globe started turning. Unseen motors roared within it. As they spun out like gleaming strands of cobwebs, coils of light came flickering toward the attacking bronze. Like blue-white ripples they went across the fore-running calis. The ripples of light went on expanding. The shotgun in the hands of the old bronze suddenly burst to pieces. The old rifles fell apart. The newer machine guns talked briefly and then disappeared in a burst of flame that took their masters with them. The first coil of light struck Odin. There was a tingling sensation, neither painful nor pleasant. But it went through his body like a mild opiate. He did not want to sleep. He really wanted to relax and forget this slaughter. He fought against it. Gunnar leaned against him, suddenly weak and shaken. More whitening circles of light swept out upon them. Eito and Meia's troops fell back. Those who had been armed with explosive weapons had died. Odin was almost too weak to lift his sword. From the stairway below came a scrabbling sound, as men pulled the corpses away from the stairs. Meia's calis reeled back. She urged them on and they advanced like corks bobbing on ripples of light. Three moves slowly toward Grimhagen's machine. A fourth faltered and fell back. The calis were no longer screaming their frightful song. The purr of victory was gone. Instead they yowled, a savage, tormented scream as though they had been cornered by an enemy they could not understand. But the three moved forward while the fourth hesitated behind them. As though struggling against a heavy flood they came on. The gun crew died defending their whirling weapon. The three calis swarmed over like bees smothering the enemy, Odin thought. The pulsing coiling light died. There was a burst of flame. The weapon and the three calis suddenly became one immense sardonyx that blazed huge in grand for a brief moment. Then the jewel blaze burned out, and a handful of ashes sifted to the ground. The fourth cali was undone. It tried to go forward against the jewel fire, then it hesitated and darted back. With a shrill cry of fear it flung itself into Nia's arms, its coppery tentacles holding her close, in a last effort to escape destruction. She had said before that the calis were nearest thanks to human that could be made. She had been the poor relation, the daughter of a dreaming failure. Perhaps something of the fear and doubt which Nia had known all her life had gone into the making of the calis. She screamed once more in bewilderment than pain, so a favorite cat had suddenly clawed her. She must have been dead before she fell, and the last cali clung to her bosom and spread its coppery wires about her face. He'd emitted one weak purr, then it stopped purring and moving forever. Grimhagen's Lawrence, who had been clinging to the hedges, now came forward triumphantly. Both came back to Gunnar and Odin. The attackers had cleared the stairway again, and once more Gunnar and Odin threw them back. By now both Atoh and Meah had swung their shattered little armies over to the subway entrance. Hagen had retreated from the deus. Meeting the advancing Lawrence, he'd led them forward. Those on the stairway retreated as they saw that they were no longer against two warriors. Gunnar rested his sword against his leg and reached out with huge arms and pulled Atoh and Odin toward him. "'Down there!' he pointed toward the stairway. "'There is plenty of room to fight, and those who have been coming up don't seem to be so strong. Forge your way down there and make another stand. Make a barricade if you can. Up here you will soon be surrounded.' "'But Grimhagen will be at our heels,' Odin protested. Gunnar laughed deep in his throat. "'Oh, no. The stairway is narrow. A strongman could hold the entrance for some time. Perhaps a long, long time, and Gunnar is strong. To get at you, Grimhagen would either have to go down the stairway or take another entrance. These entrances are few and far apart.' "'Go with Meah, Atoh,' Odin said, and I will stay here with Gunnar. "'No, the entrance is narrow. You would be in the way,' Gunnar protested. "'Now go. Oh, but the Valkyries will be busy tonight.' Atoh and Odin led the rush down the stairs. There were only a dozen men below, and they had already tired of warfare. Three fell, and the others rushed off into the shadows. Atoh and Meah's fighters tumbled after them. There were only a few of the old people and children left. Now they found themselves in a huge room which was filled with benches and small machines. It was evidently a woodworking shop. The room was lit by several of the high-flearing crests of stone. It was rectangular, about the sides of a football field. They were fortunate that there were no heavy machinery left here. From each side dim-lighted tunnels led off into the distance. While Odin and the strongest soldiers guarded, Atoh and his people shoved benches, tables and chairs to the four tunnels and set them afire. There were still quite a number of benches left, and some of these were stacked close together into one corner of the room, making a sort of rude balcony that looked down upon the littered floor. More benches and machines were left. These were made into a barricade a few yards in front of the balcony. All was done now that could be done, so Odin rushed back up the stairway to help Gunnar. But his heart sank as he stood at the foot of the stairs. Up there was nothing but swirling violet flame. Some liquid was burning furiously at the entranceway, and blazing rivulets were pouring down the steps. There was no way to go through these flames. There was now no way to go around. Gunnar, if he lived at all, must fight alone, and Odin's eyes filled with tears as he cursed himself for deserting his old comrade. The attackers were almost upon Gunnar before the last of May's rag-tad army had gone down the stairs. There were high banisters around the entranceway. These afforded plenty of protection to his back and flanks unless someone scaled them, which he doubted. One of the heavy cressets was burning nearby. It seemed to be no more than a huge open lamp. Standing upon a circular base about three feet across, the twelve-inch stem went up nearly eight feet and then flared out into a tulip-shaped bowl that was filled with flickering violet fire. Bending low, Gunnar grasped the bottom of the stem and moved it a little closer to the stairway entrance. It took all his strength, but it moved, complaining as it slid along the flagging. Now he was almost under it. The light was in his opponent's faces, and it gave a little added protection to his left side. Gunnar embraced himself, his long blade high over his shoulder, both hands locked to the long carved half. Grimhagen, he called mockingly. Here we are at the edge of the stars, just you and I left on top of this world. Just you and I of the two crews that sailed from Opel. The mad gods have made bonfires of the suns. Ragnarok has come and passed. I have no quarrel with these people, Grimhagen. Come forward now and let the two of us end what should have been ended long ago. Grimhagen silenced his men and scrambled back. Gunnar, what I say now I have said before, I promised you death, but I will let you go free, and all the frightened rats below can go free if you will give me Walden's secret. I know nothing of Walden's secret. It may be nothing but a twitch in your mad brain. The old blood-drinker and I know but one secret, Grimhagen, the secret of death. Step forth like a man now and I promise you more peace than even Walden's secret could give you. Grimhagen said no more to Gunnar. He sent four companies in the direction of other entrances to the underground city. Then he marshalled his remaining men and threw them toward Gunnar in threes. Three by three they came, and three by three they went down. Braced on his strong short legs, Gunnar flailed them like wheat. Screams and curses filled the night and Gunnar piled the dead before him. One by one the companies returned to Grimhagen and reported that for the present there was no other way into the room below. Grimhagen held a short council of war. He had less than a score of the white-skinned soldiers left. These he sent at Gunnar in a body and came following after with the remaining Lawrence. Gunnar cut them down, but a leaping soldier died as he buried his knife in Gunnar's side. The Lawrence were throwing sticks and stones when they could. They closed in like dogs upon a wolf. Gunnar reeled back and then advanced once more as he swung his broadsword. He cleared a path and sent his attackers back until they stood about him in a circle. Their fangs ready. And then Gunnar reached forth and took the stem of the huge torch high up in his hands and bowed his back. The lamp rocked upon its pedestal and then came crashing forward. Its fuel spilled down and caught fire as it fell. Flames leaped up and lashed out at the Lawrence. The fierce flames drove the attackers farther back. But in falling the great lamp careened and half its liquid had splashed across the entrance to the tunnel. It caught fire. Gunnar gasped as it struck him. Then he strode forward like a dwarf king advancing from hell. A thrown knife caught him in the chest. Gunnar took another step and another knife caught him below the throat. He stood there, trying to go on. And a mace thudded against his temple. Gunnar reeled back into the flames. A deadening quiet fell over the huge room where Maya and Ato's little armies were making their last stand. The flames were dying out in the tunnels and on the stairway. They fed more fuel to the fires and waited. Maya was at Odin's side now. They clung together. Jack Odin kissed her and swore that they would never be parted again. Until death Maya said and raised her lips to his. He shivered. It was a promise and an assurance that might be kept too soon. The fires could not burn much longer. Grimhagen's power over the Lawrence might be questioned after that havoc that had been wreaked upon the city above. But Hagen and his white-skinned soldiers could still fight. And Grimhagen's hate was hotter than the fires that were now dying out in the tunnels. Ato joined them. He had proven himself a general. Outnumbered all the way, he had broken Grimhagen's lines time and time again during that awful night. I think we'd better wait behind the barricades and make our last stand upon the balcony, he said. We can't defend five entrances at the same time. Odin agreed. Some of Maya's people are unarmed. We still have a few of the Lawrence who joined us. They are good fighters better than the Lawrence who are with Grimhagen. Apparently he drew his following from the weakest among them. Hey! Val the Lawrence agreed. He had fought near Ato's side all through the night, and his lean left hand was rubbing two deep cuts across his chest. They have already had enough. But they have asked the wild things in the Moss Country to dine with them, and now they can't get rid of the guests. If Grimhagen and his soldiers should die, they would give up in a minute. Are your men still armed, Val? Aye. They know how to hang on to weapons. Not all of Maya's people are. I don't like the idea of the children and the old men fighting. Children and the old men have fought before. Ato answered simply. If this should be the last time, then the battle would be worth the blood. Anyway, I have set them to fashioning lances and staves from wood that we saved from the fires. They waited. All the troops and all the weapons were moved behind the barricade. Some of the best throwers were mounted upon the improvised balcony. They had rigged up a rude catapult from some lumber and ropes. They had barrels of nails and spikes for ammunition. Oden wished for some good bowmen. But the bow was as foreign to the Lawrence as it was to the bronze. There was nothing left to do except move all the workshop's water pails and sand buckets behind the barricade in case of a fire. Soon they heard the sound of war cries and the splashing of water from the tunnels. Smoke poured into the room from the quenched and dying fires. It disappeared almost as fast as it came. Evidently the Lawrence were masters of air conditioning. Oden was thankful. Knowing Grimhagen he had been fearful of gas. Now that seemed unlikely. Even his gunner had predicted this last fight would be knife and sword and spear, or if it lasted long with clubs and bare hands. They had spanned space and had mocked at time. Now time was triumphant as always. Would they end up as pre-stone-aged men throwing sticks at one another? And was this a sample of the end of all the thinking men who would follow after into space? If so, what a hollow, foolish end to such a high end ever. Oden remembered an old professor who had said that all races carry their own seeds of destruction with them wherever they go. The bees who steal the honey soon die the old man had said, but the flowers are pollinated anew and life goes on forever. But such bleak thoughts were short-lasting. For as soon as the tunnels in the stairway were cleared of smoke, Grimhagen's army came pouring into the room. Grimhagen had mustered at least two thousand men. He had divided these into five groups, and they came through the five entrances at the same time. Yelling and brandishing swords and flares they rushed the barricade. Jack Oden had underestimated the catapult, the crew released it, and a shower of spikes tore the invading ranks apart. Oden saw a white-skinned warrior go to his knees and scream as he tried to pull a six-inch spike from his eye. Ato had ordered his men to try for Grimhagen's trained soldiers first. Oden saw an old brawn cast a homemade spear with as much ease as a trained javelin-thrower back home. A soldier tried to pull it out of his chest until his legs buckled beneath him and he tumbled over backwards. Then a white-skinned warrior leapt at the barricade and Oden thrust him through. Torches began to rain down upon him. Half the defending forces were now busy with water and sand beating out the flames. Then, after what seemed to be hours, the catapult crew cranked their awkward weapon to the trigger point again and sent another rain of spikes into Grimhagen's ranks. The floor beyond the barrier was littered with dead and slippery with blood before Grimhagen's men broke the barrier. There were only two hundred to meet the charge of two thousand. The end was inevitable. As the barrier went down, Jack Oden and Maya urged their men to climb upon the balcony. Oden was the last to retreat. The soldier caught him as he scrambled upward and Oden turned and slashed him across the face. Ato was calling his men around him. They drew back to a corner where two thick walls met. Ato had placed one bench there. This he stood upon, calling out orders and cheering them on as the attackers climbed the unsteady tiers of benches and tables to reach them. The defenders gathered around. There were not over fifty of them left now. Oden thrust Maya behind him. A body fell at his feet. He bent and lifted up a twelve-year-old boy who was streaming from wounds. He handed the lad to Maya. Grimhagen led the attack. Oden braced himself. He took one step forward and waited. Seeing him, Grimhagen veered toward him, screaming a mad battle cry. His eyes wild with hate. Even in what appeared to be the last moment, Jack Oden saw that only three or four of the white-skinned soldiers were left, and not over a dozen of the bronze, who had stayed with Grimhagen during all those wasting years remained. He did not take his eyes from Grimhagen. He was conscious only of a sudden flickering, as of many lights twinkling on and off. But he did not know what was happening. Maya told him later. Ato was already bleeding badly from a deep slash in his shoulder, as he rallied his men around him, someone threw a knife that buried itself in the right side of his chest. He stumbled and went down to his knees. Then he struggled up, and as he stood straight, he reached down to his waist and clutched a little slug horn of moon-metal that his father had given him. His head went back as he raised the horn to his lips. Like child Rowland, who came at last to the dark tower, he blew one unheard blast. Suddenly the room was filled with lights flashing and dancing everywhere. Whispering, a stillness fell upon the room and the shambles. Men paused as they lifted their knives or braced themselves for a last thrust. For a single breath, all was in silence. Then a light began to whisper. Ato, it is I, your father, Walden. I have learned the secret of Tyvan's space and we have come here for you, my son. But before we go, we must rid ourselves of the mischievous makers. The light started down upon Grimhagen's men, and as they touched them the cold of space came flowing through. They fell, one by one. And the whorefrost covered them like spiderwebs across the faces and bodies of long dead mummies. There was a spattering sound, as of sleet falling against a distant roof. A strange smell filled the air. And one by one, Grimhagen's men went down. All this happened while Grimhagen was rushing toward Odin and Mea. A thin trickle of blood was flowing down the corner of Hagen's mouth. Odin heard the voices. Out of the corner of his eye he saw some men go down. The room felt cold now, and a thin breeze was going through it, as though blown gently across the star spaces. He saw a light dart down toward Grimhagen. But at that instant Grimhagen reached him as swung his sword. Jack Odin stepped aside, his foot slipped upon the unsteady planking of the improvised balcony. He thrust for Grimhagen's throat, but his blade went high and wide. It gashed Grimhagen from the lower corner of his chin clear back to the jawbone. Blood streamed, and as Odin slipped to his knee, Grimhagen swung again. Then Mea was between them. Both hands grasping Hagen's sword-arm. Hagen's free hand closed about her wrists. He swung her aside, and the point of his sword came down to rest upon her throat. Now! Grimhagen screamed, and his voice was a shriek of a man who had nothing left to lose. Let no light come near me and Mea, or we die together. Odin I caught scattered words about your work as I fled through space. I held the stars and planets in my hands and I flung them away, for they were no more than the sparks that fly out from Flint. They are worthless and I flung them away, and there was nothing to match my desire, not even Mea. Now listen, if you care for her life! The descending lights hesitated and drew back. Jack Odin righted himself and chanced a thrust at Hagen. The thrust failed as Grimhagen moved Mea between them. No more of that, Odin. Drop your sword as she dies. Drop it now! And Odin lowered his hand and let the sword fall to the table beneath him. Grimhagen continued, The ship is yours. This world is yours. Let me have your secret, Odin. I would not care to be with such as you. I would laugh at space with the comets. I would make the stars cringe. I would watch the generations go by like falling snow. I would— No, you would be like Lucifer, wreaking his vengeance upon the planets. The voice of what had been Odin interrupted in a whisper. No, Grimhagen. Even if I gave you what you asked, all space would seem as hell to you. Grimhagen smiled an evil smile. So. But it is I who make the bargain. Even yet Mea goes with me, remember? But at that instant Mea got one hand free and thrust the sword aside. It was all the time that Jack Odin needed. Reaching forward he grasped Grimhagen's sword with his bare hand. It cut to the bone. And then he had Hagen's wrist with his free hand. He twisted, a bone cracked, and he shook the blade from Hagen's grasp. Mea leapt to one side, then Hagen's fingers were pushing Odin's face back. And Odin was clutching at Hagen's throat. They stood there swaying. Then they tumbled down the rude stairway of tables that Ato had fashioned for his last stand. They rolled to the bloodstained floor beneath, and Odin never knew how either of them survived the fall. The lights hovered above them, waiting for an opening. Mea took up a fallen sword and came following after. Grimhagen's fingers were feeling for Odin's eyes. Odin got a bloody fist against Hagen's face and shoved him back. Then he rolled on top of him and got the man's throat between his hands. Hagen's fists worked like pistons as he beat at Odin's face. Odin felt the blood dripping down upon his hands, and upon Hagen's throat but he held on. At the last Grimhagen screamed and clawed like an animal. And then it was over. The hands stopped clawing. There was one last sob of pain and hate that was cut off in the middle. Then Grimhagen was still, and Odin, with his face dripping blood, held on while Mea and the others struggled to tear his hands free from the man he had killed. With the death of Grimhagen, the fight was over. None of Hagen's bronze or Aldebarians were left. The Lawrence threw down their arms and swore loyalty to Val. A cot was improvised for Atoh. The lights hovered around him, whispering cheerfully and ignoring all others. Val, Odin, and Mea tried to count the survivors. Of the fifty who had lived through the fighting, only eighteen were bronze. The rest were Val's men. There are a hundred more on the two ships, Mea told Odin. O Jack, we have Nia to thank for most of this. Nia and Walden. After you and your men left, Nia took Krakalis, as she called them, and some of her people. They came through the barrier and made their way to the old ship. They surprised a few guards that Grimhagen had left. They freed Mea and the other prisoners. Then we got our little army together and came to help. Without Nia it could never have been done. She buried her face on Odin's shoulder. Oh, Jack, when we were kids together we used to laugh at her. He patted her shoulder comfortingly, for he could think of nothing to say. He had seen soldiers like Nia cast-offs from their hometowns gallantly going to their deaths. It was something that he could not understand, and being honest he had nothing to say. Cleanup was begun. Jack Odin left Val of the Lawrence to take over. Then he rushed to the stairway where last he had seen Gunnar. The fires had burned out. The steps were blackened. A few smoking corpses were still upon the stairs. Odin's face was covered with blood. His strength was nearly gone. But he went up the stairs too at a time. His spent breath whistling through his bloody nostrils. There, at the top of the stairs, he found Gunnar. And Gunnar's deadly thick about him. Gunnar had moved himself to a sitting position against one of the railings. His chin was upon his great chest and his eyes were closed as though he slept. But when Odin knelt beside him he opened one eye and looked up with a twisted smile upon his broad face. One side of his face was barely recognizable. Gunnar was badly burned. He had been thrust through at least a dozen times. But Gunnar lived. And Norse King, he whispered, sitting up straight as Odin steadied him in his arms. It was a long time to wait. And I thought that sometimes I would not make it. But I held on for I knew you would come. Oh, it has been a long wait. And it took all my strength. As fast as I could, Odin answered in a choking voice, as fast as I could. Oh, Chief of the Kneeblings for Ragnarok is passed. And the Tree of Life still reaches into the stars. The twilight is passed and new suns, new Earths are quickened. And Gunnar still lives. Part of him, Gunnar blinked his good eye. What happened down there? Oh! He gasped in pain. To have missed the fighting. Mayer lives and I live. Ato is wounded. Odin came at the last to help us, Gunnar. We won. And I have killed Grimhagen with my bare hands, even as I promised. Good Norse King, I knew always that one of us would kill him. Oh, it was a grand fight. But Gunnar will sharpen his sword no more. There was a ford near my father's house, with a clear water fresh over the stones. That might help me, but it is far away. My father, too, you tell Frida that we did not make the long trip in vain. If I can, Odin promised. Oh, you can. Well, we have won the stars. Nothing is beyond us, except you, maybe. Gunnar closed his eyes and slept for a few minutes while Odin held him in his arms. Then Gunnar awoke. He smiled at Jack and murmured. To awake on the sea of the stars. Jack Odin had heard Gunnar sing those words before. They belonged to an old Norse lullaby that Gunnar's mother had crooned to him when he was a little boy. Then Gunnar died. And Odin knelt over him, tears streaming down his broken face. CHAPTER XIX Six months had passed since the battle. The city of the violet dome was rebuilt. The ashes of the dead had been strewn upon the mossy plains. The two ships now stood in peace and gazed at each other across the expanse of moss and grass that had replaced the cinders left from the fighting. Another city was being built a few miles away. Ato had soon recovered from his wounds, and his ship's captain had married Mea and Odin. So it was over, but Odin and Mea had asked for Gunnar's ashes and had buried them out there on the plain, beneath a gauntry which was something like a Mesquite. Gunnar would have liked that. Twisted, gnarled, and tough, the tree spread out its branches above him, and a bird had built its nest there and sang its old song of stars and man and time. The Lawrence were a happier people. One of the first things that the lights had done was to plunge back into space. Within a few days they returned, trailing a huge dust cloud behind them. It must have been the last salvage from the explosion that Odin had witnessed back there in space. The cloud trailed out in one great streamer and slowly circled the ancient sun. Slowly the spirals came nearer to the fires. The sun fed, its old warmth returning. It smiled at its lone child. The air of the planet of the Lawrence grew warmer and fresher. The plains seemed to shake themselves as a new spring returned to enliven the land and take up its old work of helping life to begat new life. Out there in empty space, Odin fancied, death lowered his scythe and smiled and shrugged his lane-shoulders as he went away to harvest other suns. Oh, it was a wonderful spring. The trip was over, but what a haggard few had beached the boats at the vast edge of space. The few surviving bronze were happy now. Those who had been Grimhagen slaves out of their loyalty to Maia were offered anything that they wished. However, it turned out that most of them wanted little except peace and rest. The families of bronze that survived were now building their houses above ground, although the Lawrence had generously offered them quarters below the city. The bronze wanted no more of caves or tunnels. They preferred to live up there on this world's surface and take their chances with frost and flood. Opal had been beautiful and wonderful. It had been like living eastward in Eden, but Eden's gardens were no more. And perhaps it would be better to face the elements and meet them head on instead of seeking shelter. For time and chance were working everywhere, even in Eden, and as Gunnar had always said, a fighting heart could carry a man to the last. The days and nights were longer than on earth. The work was long and hard, but the world of the Lawrence was being rebuilt, and at night Odin usually set an hour aside to work on his notes. At times he talked with Walden, although he never could be completely at ease when talking to a light. Nor could he understand half the things that Walden told him. Walden quoted formulas on time and space, mass, and speed. Odin guessed that the belt which he had once used so briefly embodied a no-time and no-space factor. But this was beyond him. As for Ato, he grew moodier every day. At last he came to see Mea and Odin one evening, sitting by the fire. For the nights there were chilly. He talked to them of his decision. It was a great fight, he said, and I will always remember it. If Mea had lived, I might have felt differently. But Walden and the others say that they will not stay here much longer. I have decided to go with them. Theirs is a sort of nirvana, a timeless dimensionless existence. Yesterday and tomorrow, near and far, are one. Mea shivered. It sounds like a frightening existence. I don't understand it at all. It is as though they had become spirits without dying. Perhaps, said Ato thoughtfully, looking into the fire. You may be right. But they say it is wonderful to be freed from the shackles of space and time. You remember the belt, Odin? Walden has merely improved upon it. Soon, I think, I will put on the belt that they brought for me and go forth with them like Leopist to invade the night. He paused a minute and then added cautiously. They have brought two more belts with them, for you two, if you should decide. Mea shivered. Odin laughed as he shook his head. No, I am a man, just flesh and blood, Ato. And I choose to stay here and take the blows of time. To endure to the end, even as my father's before on earth. Mea snuggled against his shoulder and she nodded her agreement. Ato smiled. I thought so. But we will say no more about it. There is one thing that you may not understand, Walden has tried to tell you. But he is a scientist, and his words are different and difficult to follow. You and I have fought shoulder to shoulder, perhaps I can explain. Then he talked for nearly an hour about the passing of time, and how a ship could circle the universe at the speed of light, and upon returning it might find its home poured nothing but dust and memories. For while their hearts were beating once a month out there in space, tide after tide of years had flowed over their homes and their loved ones. It was a sad bewildering speech. It reduced time to nothing, and both Mea and Odin felt a lump of ice in their throats as Ato talked. But even after he had finished, they shook their heads and clung together. A chill wind from space seemed to be blowing through the room, whispering of time's vagaries, and how space had different clocks, and how the affairs of men were swept by time and chance down to a sunless sea. For the last time Jack Odin and Mea refused Ato's offer. Eden was behind them. Immortality was lost. But Adam and Eve held close to each other there at the edge of space, and as they left Eden behind an old sad nobility clung to them, something brave and beautiful, like the last leaves of autumn glinting in the setting sun. The notes that Dr. Jack Odin sent Mea ended. But even as before he wrote a short letter, and added it to the package at the last. Dear Joe, he began. Odin and Ato have agreed to deliver this message and the attached notes. Odin says it is a terrible experience to go from the fourth dimensional light of his into a time bound world. He will not again obligate himself as a messenger boy. I promise to let you know how we fared, and here is the tale, if you can piece it together. And I suppose you can. For you always like to monkey around with words. From this distance I would say the putting words together has been both the curse and the blessing of your entire life. I fear that I cannot understand Ato and Walden's talk, but let me put it this way. We traveled fast and furiously through space. And all the while Father Time was laughing at us. You will remember how Grimhagen aged on Aldebaran, while we sped after him in what seemed to be only a few weeks. Well, if we left in the Nebula now and plunged back to Earth we would arrive there two hundred years from the day we took off. And from what I saw of your civilization at the last I have no desire to see it two hundred years later. The wildering, isn't it? Mea always said that they would have to use new concepts and develop new mores if we are ever to conquer space. She was right. Theoretically you are gone and forgotten for two centuries, and yet Walden assures me that he can deliver this to you in short order, therefore Time does not exist as we know it. Or is it a river that can be navigated? Our home is finished. Mea and I are happy. This is a peaceful planet. Val's people are philosophers. They only fought out of desperation. My sword and gunners are growing rusty upon the wall. I have a small office now. And will probably end up as a country doctor. The two ships are still out there on the plane. Our children, if they wish, can man them and go out into space. But as far as we are concerned, we go no more hunting. The notes that I am sending you are fairly complete. It is nearly midnight and the fire is burning low. Mea is nodding beside me. So, happy at last, parsecs away and years away, I wish my old friend a hearty farewell, and it is a tale that is told. Best wishes, Jack Oden, MD. THE END