The sun was setting as the two men trudged through the jungle, toward a helicopter they knew carried many bars of shaped and pounded gold. Hastings led the way, snapping branches out of their path, stomping puddles, talking all the while.

"Boy!" he said, shaking his head. "What a bunch of nuts, huh? The Eternal One! The end of the world! Did you see their faces when that disc hit the top? Yes sir! I thought the world was goin' any second! Ha! Not good ol' terra firma. She's gonna be around a few more years yet, right?" And he stomped in a puddle, hard, just to prove it.

Simms didn't answer. He kept glancing back over his shoulder, back toward the people with the dark eyes in the dark jungle. Once he thought he could see the glitter of gold and silver through the twisted trees and branches, but it was probably just his imagination.

The End