Gunnar took it as he cast a sheepish look at Odin. "All right. All right. I'll take it--" After Freida's boat had disappeared, Gunnar tried to joke about the muffler. But he was a bit proud of it too, and put it around his neck. The ends almost brushed the ground, but it was so warm that he soon had to roll it up and carry it with him. The two went for a meal. But Gunnar ate little, grumbling at the food. Once he assured Odin that he had never had a chill in his life--that Freida was too thoughtful about him-- "Sure. Sure." Odin agreed. Then, finally, Gunnar cleared his throat and spoke the things that were in his mind. "Friend Odin," he began, looking down at his plate as though he expected to see an answer there. "I fear that I have seen my family for the last time. We are in for a trip beyond the dreams of men. Beyond Ragnarok--to the edge of the night where the mad gods make bonfires of worn-out suns--where space itself serves the mad squirrel." Gunnar paused to mutter a few words to himself and then looked up at Odin with the old smile on his broad face. "Oh, well, a man must go as far as his heart will take him--" * * * * * But for all his big talk, Gunnar tossed and muttered that night. And once, Odin heard him cry out--"So, Hagen, the stars swing right at last, and you are mine for the taking. Oh, my lost little boys and my lost little girl--" And Gunnar, the strong one, sobbed in his sleep. * * * * * The ship was loaded at last. The time for departure was near. The crew of The Nebula--over two hundred men, women and children--went quietly into the tunnel. Thousands of relatives and friends had come to the Tower to see them off. There was little weeping though most of the faces were sad and lined. Ato and Wolden had some last words with the captains who were working upon the rebuilding of Opal. "We can talk to you from the moon," Wolden was saying. "Beyond that, when we swing into the Fourth Drive, we cannot. May your work prosper." The last man had filed up the ramp to the sphere at the center of the hour-glass shaped craft. The door was finally closed and sealed. There were no portholes in the Nebula. But at least a dozen screens were mounted at convenient locations. These showed the outside world as clearly as a window. The ship moved along its rails to the Great Door. The door opened. Then it closed behind them. The second door--the one that opened upon the sea--slowly parted and slid back into the walls of the tunnel. The water poured in. For a second or two, all that Odin could see was swirling bubbling water. Then water was all around them. Seaweed still swirled in mad little whirlpools. A fish swam close to an outside scanner, and seemed to peer closer and closer at them until there was only one great staring eye upon the screen. Then it flirted its tail at them and sped away.