Together they leaped. Behind them, pouring through the break in the forcescreen, poured the monstrous genes.
Open country. The monsters were all rushing toward the barrage-break. With a leap Atwood and Ah-li went over a milling, tumbling group of a hundred of them. It was a wild, scrambling, leaping run.... The dark little spaceship lying flat on its hull-fins at the edge of the forest was a blessed haven to the panting, bruised Atwood.
"Inside! Quick now—" he gasped.
Genes were here, rolling forward; monstrous bobs of saffron as Atwood shoved the girl into the porte and slid its door. Through the heavy bulls-eye pane the gathering monsters were a turgid yellow blur.... Then the little ship was rising, with its rocket streams flaring out like a comet tail behind it. Atwood and the girl—escaping Gods, from a world which had become a purgatory.
In the control turret they sat, staring ahead at the great stars that glittered in the black firmament. The Earth was a tiny glowing dot.
"There it is," Atwood said. "Your world, and mine. We've got the Xarite, Ah-li. You wanted to do good on that little planetoid. There'll be plenty of chance, on Earth."
"And that is Earth?" she murmured. "So small."
"It's very big," he said smilingly. "You'll see. If only my father and Dr. Johns were alive now, to greet us as we come with the Xarite. They worked so hard for this."