But even after he had finished, they shook their heads and clung together.

A chill wind from s.p.a.ce seemed to be blowing through the room, whispering of time's vagaries, and how s.p.a.ce 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 Maya refused Ato's offer. Eden was behind him. Immortality was lost. But Adam and Eve held close to each other there at the edge of s.p.a.ce--and as they left Eden behind an old sad n.o.bility clung to them. Something brave and beautiful, like the last leaves of autumn glinting in the setting sun.

The notes that Doctor Jack Odin sent me are ended. But even as before he wrote a short letter and added it to the package at the last.

Dear Joe: (he began)

Wolden and Ato have agreed to deliver this message and the attached notes. Wolden says that 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 promised 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 liked to monkey around with words. (From this distance, I would say that putting words together has been both the curse and the blessing of your entire life.)

I fear that I cannot understand Ato's and Wolden's talk. But let me put it this way. We traveled fast and furiously through s.p.a.ce.

And all the while, Father Time was laughing at us. You will remember how Grim Hagen 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 that 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.

Bewildering, isn't it? Nea always said that we would have to use new concepts and develop new mores if we ever conquered s.p.a.ce.

She was right.

Theoretically, you are gone and forgotten for two centuries. And yet, Wolden a.s.sures 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. Maya and I are happy. This is a peaceful planet. Val's people are philosophers. They only fought out of desperation.

My sword and Gunnar's 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 plain. Our children, if they wish, can man them and go out into s.p.a.ce. But as far as we are concerned we go no more a-hunting.

The notes that I am sending you are fairly complete. It is nearly midnight and the fire is burning low. Maya is nodding beside me.

So--happy at last--pa.r.s.ecs away and years away--I wish my old friend a hearty fare-thee-well--and

IT IS A TALE THAT IS TOLD.

Best wishes,

Jack Odin, M. D.

THE END