Chapter 8

The End of Adventure

Craig stood at the rail of the ship.

The sun was setting and the long shadows of dusk reached across the world. Michaelson stood beside Craig. As usual, the scientist was excited.

“The Ogrum presented a strange case of warped development,” he said. “Do you know what they were?”

“Devils,” Craig grunted. He was not much interested in what the scientist was saying.

“Chemists!” Michaelson said triumphantly. “Through some freak, nature developed a type of life that had the mentality to become excellent chemists but with little or no ability in any other line. The acid they used on the Idaho, the gas they had developed, everything points to the conclusion that they were chemists. From what was left of their hangar, their planes were made of plastics--not a piece of metal in them. Even the ruined motors looked as though they were made of plastics. The Ogrum knew nothing of the wheel, the arch, or of architecture, yet they were almost perfect chemists.”

The scientist sounded very pleased with himself for having made this discovery. “If you had not destroyed their temple, we might have found out more about them,” he said accusingly.

On the dawn of the next day the systematic destruction of the entire city had been carried out. Hundreds of grenades had been planted in the temple and it had been demolished.

“Survival,” Craig said. “We’ve got to live in this world and it’s not big enough to hold us and the Ogrum. Certainly I destroyed their city. Some of them probably managed to escape alive. I’m not going to leave any rat’s nest where they can get together again.”

“Well, you were right about it,” the scientist said. “The only thing is, I would have liked to know more about them.”

“I know enough about them to last me a life-time,” Craig said bitterly. “Oh, hello.” The last was spoken to the girl who had emerged from below and had come to the rail.

“Good evening,” she answered. She said nothing more but stood at the rail and stared into the gathering dusk. Craig was silent too.

“I should have liked to know how they worked those silent plane motors,” Michaelson said.

“Huh? What did you say?” Craig asked.

“You weren’t listening,” the scientist accused. He adjusted his glasses and looked along the rail to where Margy Sharp was standing. “Ah. I see,” he said.

“You see what?” Craig challenged, grinning.

“I see that my presence not only is no longer necessary but is not wanted.” The scientist smiled and walked away.

Dusk came down. Craig was never quite sure how it happened but somehow he and the girl found themselves closer together. “Margy,” he said, “about the water, in the life-boat--”

“Oh, that,” the girl said. “If you’re worried about that, I’ve been talking to Mrs. Miller. She was awake most of the night the water disappeared. She says she isn’t certain but she thought she saw somebody crawl forward and help himself while you were asleep.”

Craig sighed. All the time he had known he hadn’t taken the water. The important thing was for Margy to know it.

“Look,” said Craig, gesturing toward the shore-line, “out there is a new world, new lands, new places, all waiting to be explored. It’s all ours, every foot of it, to be explored--”

“Ours?” the girl questioned, and her voice was very low.

“Yes,” Craig said. “What I mean is--Margy--Well, you once said we were two of a kind--and--”

“I think,” the girl said calmly, “that Captain Higgins has the authority to make us one of a kind, if that is what you are trying to say.”

“That,” Craig shouted, “is exactly what I am trying to say.”

The dusk deepened into darkness. They were very close together now. Saying nothing, they looked toward shore, toward that vast, strange new land where no human foot had ever trod. It was in Craig’s mind that this strange adventure in time was almost over. Then, as he thought of the new worlds that his sons and grandsons would have the privilege of exploring, the thought came that adventure is never over--it is always just beginning.