“Several large, artificial constructions are approaching us,” zoi~c announced after a short pause. “The designs are not familiar, but they are obviously the products of inteffigence. Implications: we have been intercepted deliberately by a means unknown, for a purpose unknown, and transferred to a place unknown by a form of intelligence unknown. Apart from the unknowns, everything is obvious.”
“Show us the constructions,” Garuth commanded.
Three screens around the Command Deck displayed views oh.. tamed in different directions of a number of immense craft, the like of which Garuth had never seen, moving slowly inward from the background of stars. Garuth and his officers could only stand
and stare in silent awe. Before anybody could find words, zoa~4c informed them, “We have communications from the unidentified craft. They are using our standard high-spectrum format. I’m putting it on the main monitor.” Seconds later, the large screen overlooking the floor presented a picture. Every Ganymean in the Command Deck froze, stupefied by what they saw.
“My name is Calazar,” the face said. “Greetings to you who went to Iscaris long ago. Soon you will arrive at our new home. Be patient, and all will be explained.”
It was a Ganymean-a slightly modified Ganymean, but a Ganymean sure enough. Elation and joy mixed with disbelief surged in the confused emotions exploding in Garuth’s head. It could only mean that. . . the signal that the Earthmen had beamed outward from their Moon had been received. Suddenly his heart went out to the impetuous, irrepressible, unquenchable Earthmen. They had been right after all. He loved them, every one.
Gasps of wonder were erupting on every side as one by one the others realized what was happening. Monchar was turning circles and waving his arms in the air in an uncontrollable release of emotion, while Shilohin had sunk into an empty seat and was just gaping wide-eyed and speechless up at the screen.
Then zoa~c confirmed what they already knew. “I’ve matched the starfield with extrapolations from records and fixed our location. Don’t ask me how, but it seems that the voyage is over. We’re at the Giants’ Star.”
Less than an hour later, Garuth led the first party of Ganymeans out of the lock of one of the Shapieron’s daughter vessels and into a brilliantly lit reception bay in one of the craft from Thurien. They approached the line of figures that were waiting silently, and went through a short welcoming ritual in which the dam finally broke and all the pent-up anguish and hope that the wanderers had carried with them burst forth in a flood of laughter and not a few tears. It was over. The long exile was over, and the exiles were finally home.
Afterward the new arrivals were conducted to a side chamber and required to recline on couches for a few minutes. The purpose of this was not explained. The Ganymeans experienced a strange sequence of sensory disturbances, after which all was normal again. They were then told that the process was complete. Minutes
later, Garuth left the side chamber with his party to reenter the area where the Thuriens were assembled . . . and suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes popping in disbelief.
Slightly ahead of the Thuriens, grinning unashamedly at the Ganymeans’ total bemusement, stood a small group of familiar pink dwarves. Garuth’s mouth fell open, hung limply for a moment, and then closed again without making any sound. For the two figures moving toward him, ahead of the other humans, were none other than- “What kept you, Garuth?” Hunt asked cheerfully. “Did you
miss a sign somewhere along the way?”
“Do forgive my amusement at your expense,” Danchekker said, unable to suppress a chuckle. “But I’m afraid the expression on your face is irresistibly provocative.”
Behind them (laruth could see another familiar figure-stocky and broad, with wiry hair streaked with gray and deeply etched features; it was Hunt’s superior from Houston, and next to him was the red-haired girl who also worked there. Beside them were another man and woman, neither of whom he recognized. Garuth forced his feet to move again, and through his daze saw that Hunt was extending a hand in the customary manner of greeting of Earth. Garuth shook hands with him warmly, then with the others. They were not optical images of some kind; they were real. The Thuriens must have brought them from Earth for this occasion by methods unknown at the time of Minerva.