Then the sea was below them and they were still rising. The scanner showed the sea receding. They were looking down at a segment of a curved world. Far away was land, and Odin saw two dark specks in the distance which he thought were Galveston and Houston. The world below them became half of a sphere that filled the viewer. And then it was a turning globe, growing smaller and smaller. As it diminished, the stars winked out on the screen’s background.
The sensation of rushing upward was no worse than being in a fast elevator. And yet, as Odin watched the earth recede, he realized that they must have risen from the water at a speed much faster than a bullet.
Soon the earth appeared no larger than a basketball. The viewers were changed. The moon appeared upon it—a growing sphere, with its mountains and craters all silver and black in the reflected light.
Wolden turned to Odin. “See how it is done. We left there quietly. Not a drop of water entered Opal. We left so fast that I doubt if your world even noticed us. Grim Hagen always loved the sensational. There was no need for the havoc that he made—”
In less than an hour, the onrushing moon filled the screens. And with scarcely a quiver of excitement the Nebula circled it swiftly—and landed.
CHAPTER 7
WOLDEN and Ato, acting as pilot and co-pilot, set The Nebula down with as much ease as a housewife putting a fine piece of china upon the drainboard.
There was no fuss and no noise. Jack Odin had seen B-47’s come in with a great deal more hubbub and dithers than the Nebula had caused.