By the end of the year, Model Number Two was complete, and the tests this time were held under more carefully controlled circumstances. Again success was only partial, but again Alan was not disappointed. He had worked out his time-table well. Premature success might only make matters more difficult for him. 3882 went by, and 3883. He was in his early twenties, now, a tall, powerful figure, widely known all over Earth. With Jesperson's shrewd aid he had pyramided Max's original million credits into an imposing fortune--and much of it was being diverted to hyperspace research. But Alan Donnell was not the figure of scorn James Hudson Cavour had been; no one laughed at him when he said that by 3885 hyperspace travel would be reality. 3884 slipped past. Now the time was drawing near. Alan spent virtually all his hours at the research center, aiding in the successive tests. On March 11, 3885, the final test was accomplished satisfactorily. Alan's ship, the _Cavour_, had been completely remodeled to accommodate the new drive; every test but one had been completed. The final test was that of actual performance. And here, despite the advice of his friends, Alan insisted that he would have to be the man who took the _Cavour_ on her first journey to the stars. Nine years had passed, almost to the week, since a brash youngster named Alan Donnell had crossed the bridge from the Spacer's Enclave and hesitantly entered the bewildering complexity of York City. Nine years. He was twenty-six now, no boy any more. He was the same age Steve had been, when he had been dragged unconscious to the _Valhalla_ and taken aboard. And the _Valhalla_ was still bound on its long journey to Procyon. Nine years had passed, but yet another remained before the giant starship would touch down on a planet of Procyon's. But the Fitzgerald Contraction had telescoped those nine years into just a few months, for the people of the _Valhalla_. Steve Donnell was still twenty-six. And now Alan had caught him. The Contraction had evened out. They were twins again. And the _Cavour_ was ready to make its leap into hyperspace. _Chapter Nineteen_ It was not difficult for Alan to get the route of the _Valhalla_, which had been recorded at Central Routing Registration. Every starship was required by law to register a detailed route-chart before leaving, and these charts were filed at the central bureau. The reason was simple: a starship with a crippled drive was a deadly object. In case a starship's drive conked out, it would keep drifting along toward its destination, utterly helpless to turn, maneuver, or control its motion. And if any planets or suns happened to lie in its direct path---- The only way a ship could alter its trajectory was to cut speed completely, and with the drive dead there would be no way of picking it up again. The ship would continue to drift slowly out to the stars, while its crew died of old age.