But Earth would never die, for there was a part of Earth in every man and woman who would go forth into space, part of Earth's courage, part of Earth's ideals, part of Earth's dreams. The habits and the virtues and the faults that Earth had spawned and fostered ... these were things that would never die. Old Earth would live forever. Even when she was drifting dust and the Sun was a dead, cold star, Earth would live on in the courage and the dreams that by that time would be spreading to the far corners of the Galaxy. Russ dug the pipe out of his pocket, searched for the pouch, found it on the desk behind him. It was empty. "Hell," he said, "my tobacco's all gone." Greg grinned. "You won't have to wait long. We'll be back on Earth in a few more hours." Russ put the stem between his teeth, bit down on it savagely. "I guess that's right. I can dry smoke her until we get there." Earth was larger now. Mars had swung astern. Suddenly a winking light stabbed out into space from the night side of Earth. Signaling ... signaling ... clearing the spacelanes for a greater future than any human prophet had ever predicted. The End