Then he slumped back in the chair, despairing and dispirited. He knew, as his few trusted companions knew, that there would be nobody there to receive it. Nothing in the Lunarian records had proved anything. It was all Earthmen’s wishful thinking.
His thoughts went back to the incredible Earthmen-the race that had struggled and fought for millennia to overcome such horrendous difficulties, and who now, at last, were emerging from their past to a prospect of lasting prosperity and wisdom . . . if they could only be left alone for a little longer to complete the things they had so valiantly strived to achieve. They had built their world out of chaos, against all the theories and predictions of all the sages and scientists of Minerva. They deserved to be left alone to enjoy their world without interference.
For Garuth knew, as now only Shilohin, Jassilane and Monchar knew, that the Ganymeans had created the human race.
The Ganymeans had been the direct cause of all the defects, handicaps and problems that should by rights have left Man with all the odds piled hopelessly against him. But Man had triumphed over all of them. Justice demanded now that Man be left alone to perfect his world in his own way and without further interference from the Ganymeans.
The Ganymeans had already interfered enough.
chapter twenty-three
In Danchekker’s office, high in the main building of the Westwood Biological Institute on the outskirts of Houston, the professor and Hunt were watching the view of the Shapieron being sent down from a telescopic camera tracking from a satellite high above the Earth. The image grew gradually smaller and then suddenly enlarged again as the magnification was stepped up. Then it began to shrink once more.
“It’s just coasting,” Hunt commented from an armchair set over to one side of the room. “Seems as if they want to get one last look at us.” Danchekker said nothing but just nodded absently as he watched from behind his desk. The commentary coming over on audio confirmed Hunt’s observation.
“Radar indicates that the ship is still traveling quite slowly compared to the performance that we have seen before. It doesn’t seem to be going into orbit . . – just continuing to move steadily away from Earth. This is the last time you’ll have a chance to see this fantastic vessel live, so make the most of the moment. We are looking at the closing page of what has surely been the most astounding chapter ever written in the history of the human race. How can things ever be the same again?” A short pause. “Hello, something’s happening I’m told. – . . The ship’s starting to accelerate now. It’s really streaking away from us now, building up speed faster all the time. . . .” The image on the screen began to perform a crazy dance of growing and shrinking again at a bewildering rate.
“They’re on main drive,” Hunt said, as the commentator continued.
“The image is starting to break up. . . – The stressfleld’s becoming noticeable now. . . . It’s going. . . getting fainter . .
That’s it. Well I guess that just about-” The voice and picture died together as Danchekker ifipped a switch behind his desk to cut off the display.
“So, there they go to meet whatever destiny awaits them,” he
said. “I wish them well.” A short silence ensued while Hunt fished in his pockets for his lighter and cigarette case. As he leaned back in his chair again he said, “You know, Chris, when you think about it, these last couple of years have been pretty remarkable.”
“To say the least.”
“Charlie, the Lunarians, the ship at Pithead, the Ganymeans and now this.” He gestured toward the blank screen. “What
better time could we have picked to be alive? It makes every other period of history seem a bit dull, doesn’t it?”
“It does indeed . . . very dull indeed.” Danchekker seemed to be answering automatically, as if part of his mind were still hurtling out into space with the Shapieron.
“It’s a bit of a pity, though, in some ways,” Hunt said after a while.