Despite being exhausted, Athena couldn't sleep. She was worried about Prometheus and the Tribe - whether they could survive after losing so many of their young men - whether Atlas, despite her father's precautions, would find his way back. And she was worried about having to move in with Hera. The house was finished now. She had no real excuse for staying in the tent. Nobody had said anything yet but it was just a matter of time. And then there was her father. He was also worried about something, really worried. It had something to do with the crew and getting them back Home. Perhaps he thought they weren't capable of building another ship after all or that nobody would ever come from Home to rescue them. Or did he think something had happened at Home? None of these explanations seemed quite right. She just had a strong feeling he didn't believe they would ever get back. Her mind nibbled at all these worries, like a rat caught in a trap, going round and round, never letting go.