"—the wind bloweth ... and the place thereof shall know it no more...."
A panel in the wall by his head lit up, making a square of brightness. He strained his eyes at it, discerning a picture. A scanner of some sort. It showed a transparent ovoid slanting up through the black trees of the forest, a ship with Doc Willard at the controls and eleven men and a girl in the vessel with him—a girl with red-gold hair, going back to Earth, with the knowledge that would save a world from destruction.
He had not failed.
The picture on the scanner darkened. The burning ache in Garth's lungs grew worse. If he could breathe—
On the dais, the robot swayed, its metal legs giving beneath its weight. The crash of its fall brought the Zarno to their feet, frozen with amazement for a moment. Then they moved forward like a wave.
Garth saw them, dimly, through the vision-slit. A white curtain of pain blotted them out. He was dying; he knew that. The shouts of the Zarno came to him faintly,
"the wind bloweth ... and the place thereof shall know it no more...."
But in that place the seeds of the future would grow. Once more Garth saw the children of Earth's unborn generations, and this time the question in their eyes was answered. They would live and go on, to the stars, and beyond.
Moira was beside him. Her cool hand touched his; she came into his arms.