"All that counts is us."
I have finished the last entry in the log of the Pioneer. Everything that has happened is here, from waking to now. In the two weeks we stayed after I was hurt, the others roamed farther from the ship, mapping, testing, collecting the proof that this world would do. It was a wild country, young and free, big with space and challenge. It would fight man's coming like the Earth had fought advance, hurling storms and force against civilization. Sitting at this table, I can still picture the sun on the dark mountains, the restless life that will change when another ship returns. There is no pain to remind me of its power, only a half wistful sense of loss. The specimens and records are stored away for the trip. They will tell our children the gamble is won. Some day soon, in a relative time, new pioneers will thrust their strength and courage across the forests and fields of our new worlds. That is as it should be, for born in man is an indomitable urge to reach out and touch the stars. On the last day, before we blasted off for home, we drove out and left a message on an outcropping of stone. Burned into the face of a blue marble cliff is our prophesy. Acid ate the letters out of stone; faith put them in our minds to set down.
HERE LIES AN UNEXPLORED WORLD.
CLEAR ITS FIELDS AND MOVE ON.
THERE IS NO POINT OF RETURN
FOR DESTINY.
We drank a toast in silence as Karen prepared us for the long journey. Afterwards we shook hands, and I watched the men go to sleep as I had done once before.
Karen and I delayed a few minutes to talk of nothing, watching the stars from the control room. Her kiss was brief, but hard and full of promise as her eyes fluttered closed. She whispered for me to sleep well. I went to the navigation room to finish the last entry. That is done now. The log is up to date. I leave it open to the page where the next new entry will be recorded with the others.