Wolden referred to it as the Fourth Drive. Odin gathered that the Old Ship had been equipped with such a drive, but new principles and new mechanics had been added. Odin showed him a little book, which had been privately printed in the world above some fifteen years before. It was entitled: "Einstein and Einsteinian Space, with Conjectures upon a Trans-Einsteinian concept." Wolden said it had been written by a young refugee from the Nazis, and he doubted if over two or three copies of the manuscript were now in existence. Memories of concentration camps, poverty, and the internecine battles of the professors in a small college where the refugee was an assistant in the Physics Department, had finally driven the poor fellow to suicide. "He was grasping at something new," Wolden explained. "His concept was only nascent. But such a mind! The book has been invaluable. Still, it is nothing but a starting point--but such a starting point!" Time passed. It was like working in a dream, where no sooner was one task done than another was ready. Odin ached. His head spun with all the information that Wolden had given him--the basic principles behind those machines that had gone into the ship. Then, at last, it was finished. A young girl who reminded him of Maya was hoisted up on a scaffold to the highest bulge of the hour-glass shaped craft. Workers and visitors stood below by the thousands while she spoke into a tiny microphone and swung a ruby-colored bottle against the ship. "You are christened The Nebula," she cried. "Go out into space--" They had used a bottle of red wine for the christening. A shower of ruby-glass and winedrops came sprinkling down. They fell slowly--like drops of blood, and the onlookers, who were by nature opposed to crowds, began to disperse. "That girl," Odin grasped Gunnar's arm "Who is she?" Gunnar looked at him curiously. "Her name is Nea. A distant cousin of Maya's. Also, a distant cousin to Grim Hagen." Nothing else was said. But Odin suddenly realized that since the day he had been unwillingly carried back to the world above in the elevator he had not noticed any girl at all. That night Jack Odin could not sleep, although he had never slept more than five hours at a time since returning to Opal. Getting up he found a little radio and turned it to a frequency which occasionally caught some of the stations above. A hill-billy band was playing, and a comic was singing: "So I kissed her little sister and forgot my Clementine." He turned off the radio with a curse and finally got to sleep, and dreamed of star spaces and emerald worlds ruled by beautiful Brons girls who looked like Maya--or maybe a bit like Nea. Until the worlds streaked across the dark sky like comets. And Gunnar was shaking him by the arm and a streak of light was coming in at the window.