"I waited seven years for that," McGowan said, and he breathed very deeply. Then he walked through us and strode back to where the two Jovians lay, and V'Narik. "V'Narik's dead," he said as if he'd just discovered it. "He always had a hunch he wouldn't get away from here, didn't he? But he got to see the stars and Mars again, just as he wanted to. And Elson's dead, of course. That still leaves six of us." He looked at me significantly. I knew what he meant. I had known all the time that I would never set foot on Earth again, and McGowan had known it, too. "Make it five," I said, "for I'm staying." The others didn't quite understand, and they didn't much care. They went rushing off to find Marnick's cruiser that would bear them safely to Callisto. McGowan stepped forward with that enigmatic smile on his lips, and seized my hand. "Thanks," he said simply. "Thanks for all you've done for us, and don't hate me too much." "Just go away," I said, "and leave me alone. I want to think. You might leave me that atom-pistol if you want to." It is a good thing they left as quickly as they did, or I would have killed McGowan. I watched their cruiser blast up and away into the dark void. I said I wanted to think, and I have thought. And whenever I remember that terrible revenge, I must decide that McGowan was the madman, not Marnick. Perhaps they were both mad. Anyway, it does not matter any more. I only know that I shall soon die; for my constant proximity to those detector beams in the past several weeks, in conjunction with these radite emanations, has produced a curious illness in me from which I know I should never recover. The symptoms become stronger hourly, and the agony is almost unbearable. Perhaps soon, if it continues, I shall-- But I must finish this document first. I have been writing it, here in Marnick's study, for the past twenty-four hours. I hope it will be found when the next Earth supply ship comes. I think it even likely that those other unfortunate men, in the tunnels below, will continue to work as usual until then, unknowing of what has taken place up here; for they have become automatons. I can only hope that this document will serve, in the future, to make the fate of such men a little less severe. Well, now I think it is finished. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Out of This World, by Henry Hasse