"Naturally," said Anjers curtly, "there would be such a fable. That legend occurs not only in the mythology of your race but in that of every civilized planet. Earth's theosophy speaks of Gog and Magog, the giants who lived before men.[9] The Venusian folk-tales sing of an ancient battle of Titans. The Martians tell of a day when giants warred.
"Such myths are easily explained. They are simply barbaric nature-myths; explanations of the recurring solstice, the battle between the giants of summer heat and winter cold."
But the Jovian said somewhat haughtily. "Ours is no folk tale of a barbaric people, Doctor. Our race was old when yours still roamed the jungles of its native world. Our written history is based on fact, not fancy. And it is strange that you should speak now of a race of giants...."
Gary Lane held his peace. Yet, he, too, was oddly troubled by this new and disturbing thought.
But all things end at last, even hours of impatient waiting. And it was shortly thereafter that the installation of the Jovian machine was completed. So, at last, their adventure appropriately feasted, their success prayerfully toasted, the Liberty's complement prepared to set forth on the final leg of their journey.
All hands were aboard, all stations manned, and in the control turret stood those upon whose efforts depended not only the success of this mission but the very existence of the universe.
It was a great moment, one calculated to not only lift with pride the heart of the humblest person, but to instill humility into the heart of the most prideful. A strange silence fell over the little group, a silence finally broken by Hugh Warren.
"Well ... all ready, Gary?"