spaceship lying flat on its hull-fins at the edge of the forest was a blessed haven to the panting, bruised Atwood.

"Inside! Quick now—" he gasped.

Genes were here, rolling forward; monstrous bobs of saffron as Atwood shoved the girl into the porte and slid its door. Through the heavy bulls-eye pane the gathering monsters were a turgid yellow blur.... Then the little ship was rising, with its rocket streams flaring out like a comet tail behind it. Atwood and the girl—escaping Gods, from a world which had become a purgatory.

In the control turret they sat, staring ahead at the great stars that glittered in the black firmament. The Earth was a tiny glowing dot.

"There it is," Atwood said. "Your world, and mine. We've got the Xarite, Ah-li. You wanted to do good on that little planetoid. There'll be plenty of chance, on Earth."

"And that is Earth?" she murmured. "So small."

"It's very big," he said smilingly. "You'll see. If only my father and Dr. Johns were alive now, to greet us as we come with the Xarite. They worked so hard for this."

"Dr. Johns?" She was staring at him, startled. And then suddenly on her face and in her eyes there was the light of memory. "Dr. Johns? Why—why—"

"Yes?" he prompted. "Try and think!"

"Dr. Johns? Why—Gloria—yes, yes there was a Gloria! Why—that is my other name! His daughter—Gloria Johns—why, of course!"

Gloria Johns.... "Then your father and mine—they were friends," Atwood murmured.

The familiar scenes of Earth would bring everything back to her. And Ah-li, Goddess of the planet, would be gone. There would just be Gloria Johns.

They sat gazing at the immensity of Space—at the tiny dot of light which was their great world waiting for them.

 Prev. P 22/22