my son Ato. A much better commander than I could ever be. Let me
stay here with my work, I beg of you."

So the votes were taken, following a century-old ritual. Wolden was
relieved of command and Ato was given his place.

Hours later Gunnar and Odin sat with Ato in his quarters, making some
last-minute decisions.

There was a knock at the door. Wolden entered, carrying a strange-looking
slug-horn that glimmered like mother-of-pearl. "I want you to take this
with you," he begged his son. "It is made of the Moon-Metal. I think I know
its secret now. A vibration that defies a vacuum. I hope to perfect my
work, but I may not. Here," he offered the tiny horn to his son. "Blow it
if you need me. It is soundless, but it defies time and space just as my
work does. I carry a ring to match it. I may not succeed. But blow it when
you need me, son, and if I can I'll be there--"

Tears were in the eyes of both when Ato took the slug-horn from his father.

CHAPTER 8

At their request, eight couples and their children were brought from The
Nebula to the cavern. For the crew of the first ship had been old men--and
the cavern had never known a child's laughter.

Then Ato led his group back to the moon's surface.

As a little conveyor belt hoisted him through the tube into the central
core of the ship, Jack Odin found himself worrying a bit about Nea. She had
decided to go on with them. Due to her experimental interests, Jack had
supposed that she would stay with Wolden. But there she was, still carrying
that perplexing case of hers. Quiet and sad-eyed, a little smaller than
Maya, her face a little sharper, she still looked so much like Maya that
Odin couldn't get his thoughts away from her.

* * * * *

There was one last period of final check-outs. Then Ato gave the signal,
standing lean and tall in the control room, with a tight belt about his
narrow waist, and Wolden's slug-horn fastened securely to it.

The Nebula leaped toward the star-studded skies.

Odin watched the moon disappear below them. Mars with its canals and mossy
deserts loomed ahead--swerved aside, and was behind them, Jupiter with its
red clouds and its protean "eye" reached out for them and was left behind.
The planets became smaller. They winked at them and cheered them on with a
far halloo. Then Pluto loomed ahead, lost and forgotten up there in the
night. And to Odin's surprise, one last tiny planet, frozen to the