From the Ocean from teh Stars (96 page)

"A legend, yes," said Jeserac. "We accept many things without ques
tion, and this is one of them. However, there is no proof of it. I find it
hard to believe that anything of such importance would not be recorded in the memories of the Central Computer, yet it knows nothing of this
pact. I have asked it, though only through the information machines.
The Council may care to ask the question directly."

Jeserac saw no reason why he should risk a second admonishment
by trespassing on forbidden territory, and waited for the President's re
ply.

It never came, for in that moment the visitors from Lys suddenly
started in their seats, while their faces froze in simultaneous expressions
of incredulity and alarm. They seemed to be listening while some faraway
voice poured its message into their ears.

The Councilors waited, their own apprehension growing minute by
minute as the soundless conversation proceeded. Then the leader of the delegation shook himself free from his trance, and turned apologetically
to the President.

"We have just had some very strange and disturbing news from Lys,"
he said.

"Has Alvin returned to Earth?" asked the President.

"No—not Alvin. Something else."

As he brought his faithful ship down in the glade of Airlee, Alvin won
dered if ever in human history any ship had brought such a cargo to Earth
—if indeed, Vanamonde was located in the physical space of the machine.
There had been no sign of him on the voyage; Hilvar believed, and his
knowledge was more direct, that only Vanamonde's sphere of attention
could be said to have any position in space. Vanamonde himself was not
located anywhere—perhaps not even
anywhen.

Seranis and five Senators were waiting for them as they emerged from
the ship. One of the Senators Alvin had already met on his last visit; the other two from that previous meeting were, he gathered, now in Diaspar.
He wondered how the delegation was faring, and how the city had re
acted to the presence of the first intruders from outside in so many millions of years.

"It seems, Alvin," said Seranis drily, after she had greeted her son,
"that you have a genius for discovering remarkable entities. Still, I think
it will be some time before you can surpass your present achievement."

For once, it was Alvin's turn to be surprised.

"Then Vanamonde's arrived?"

"Yes, hours ago. Somehow he managed to trace the path your ship

made on its outward journey—a staggering feat in itself, and one which
raises interesting philosophical problems. There is some evidence that he
reached Lys at the moment you discovered him, so that he is capable
of infinite speeds. And that is not all. In the last few hours he has taught
us more of history than we thought existed."

Alvin looked at her in amazement. Then he understood; it was not
hard to imagine what the impact of Vanamonde must have been upon
this people, with their keen perceptions and their wonderfully interlocking
minds. They had reacted with surprising speed, and he had a sudden
incongruous picture of Vanamonde, perhaps a little frightened, sur
rounded by the eager intellects of Lys.

"Have you discovered what he is?" Alvin asked.

"Yes. That was simple, though we still don't know his origin. He's a
pure mentality and his knowledge seems to be unlimited. But he's childish,
and I mean that quite literally."

"Of course!" cried Hilvar. "I should have guessed!"

Alvin looked puzzled, and Seranis took pity on him.

"I mean that although Vanamonde has a colossal, perhaps an infinite
mind, he's immature and undeveloped. His actual intelligence is less than that of a human being"—she smiled a little wryly—"though his thought
processes are much faster and he learns very quickly. He also has some
powers we do not yet understand. The whole of the past seems open to
his mind, in a way that's difficult to describe. He may have used that
ability to follow your path back to Earth."

Alvin stood in silence, for once somewhat overcome. He realized how
right Hilvar had been to bring Vanamonde to Lys. And he knew how
lucky he had been ever to outwit Seranis; that was not something he
would do twice in a lifetime.

"Do you mean," he asked, "that Vanamonde has only just been born?"

"By his standards, yes. His actual age is very great, though apparently
less than Man's. The extraordinary thing is that he insists that
we
created
him, and there's no doubt that his origin is bound up with all the great
mysteries of the past."

"What's happening to Vanamonde now?" asked Hilvar in a slightly
possessive voice.

"The historians of Grevarn are questioning him. They are trying to
map out the main outlines of the past, but the work will take years.
Vanamonde can describe the past in perfect detail, but as he doesn't un
derstand what he sees it's very difficult to work with him."

Alvin wondered how Seranis knew all this; then he realized that
probably every waking mind in Lys was watching the progress of the

great research. He felt a sense of pride in the knowledge that he had now
made as great a mark on Lys as on Diaspar, yet with that pride was
mingled frustration. Here was something that he could never fully share
nor understand: the direct contact even between human minds was as
great a mystery to him as music must be to a deaf man or color to a blind one. Yet the people of Lys were now exchanging thoughts with this unimaginably alien being, whom he had led to Earth but whom he could
never detect with any sense that he possessed.

There was no place for him here; when the inquiry was finished, he would be told the answers. He had opened the gates of infinity, and now
felt awe—even fear—for all that he had done. For his own peace of
mind, he must return to the tiny, familiar world of Diaspar, seeking its
shelter while he came to grips with his dreams and his ambition. There was irony here; the one who had spurned the city to venture out among
the stars was coming home as a frightened child runs back to its mother.

☆
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

D
iaspar was none too pleased to see Alvin again. The
city was still in a ferment, like a giant beehive that had been violently stirred with a stick. It was still reluctant to face reality, but those who
refused to admit the existence of Lys and the outside world no longer had
a place to hide. The Memory Banks had ceased to accept them; those
who tried to cling to their dreams, and to seek refuge in the future, now
walked in vain into the Hall of Creation. The dissolving, heatless flame
refused to greet them; they no longer awoke, their minds washed clean, a hundred thousand years further down the river of time. No appeal to
the Central Computer was of any avail, nor would it explain the reason
for its actions. The intended refugees had to turn sadly back into the city,
to face the problems of their age.

Alvin and Hilvar had landed at the periphery of the park, not far
from Council Hall. Until the last moment, Alvin was not certain that he
could bring the ship into the city, through whatever screens fenced its sky
from the outer world. The firmament of Diaspar, like all else about it,
was artificial, or at least partly so. Night, with its starry reminder of all
that man had lost, was never allowed to intrude upon the city; it was
protected also from the storms that sometimes raged across the desert
and filled the sky with moving walls of sand.

The invisible guardians let Alvin pass, and as Diaspar lay spread out

beneath him, he knew that he had come home. However much the Universe and its mysteries might call him, this was where he was born and
where he belonged. It would never satisfy him, yet always he would return.
He had gone halfway across the Galaxy to learn this simple truth.

The crowds had gathered even before the ship landed, and Alvin
wondered how his fellow citizens would receive him now that he had re
turned. He could read their faces easily enough, as he watched them
through the viewing screen before he opened the air lock. The dominant emotion seemed to be curiosity—in itself something new in Diaspar.
Mingled with that was apprehension, while here and there were un
mistakable signs of fear. No one, Alvin thought a Uttle wistfully, seemed
glad to see him back.

The Council, on the other hand, positively welcomed him—though
not out of pure friendship. Though he had caused this crisis, he alone
could give the facts on which future policy must be based. He was listened
to with deep attention as he described his flight to the Seven Suns and
his meeting with Vanamonde. Then he answered innumerable questions,
with a patience which probably surprised his interrogators. Uppermost
in their minds, he quickly discovered, was the fear of the Invaders, though
they never mentioned the name and were clearly unhappy when he
broached the subject directly.

"If the Invaders are still in this Universe," Alvin told the Council,
"then surely I should have met them at its very center. But there is no
intelligent life among the Seven Suns; we had already guessed that before
Vanamonde confirmed it. I believe that the Invaders departed ages ago;
certainly Vanamonde, who appears to be at least as old as Diaspar, knows
nothing of them."

"I have a suggestion," said one of the Councilors suddenly. "Vanamonde may be a descendant of the Invaders, in some way beyond our
present understanding. He has forgotten his origin, but that does not mean
that one day he may not be dangerous again."

Hilvar, who was present merely as a spectator, did not wait for per
mission to speak. It was the first time that Alvin had ever seen him angry.

"Vanamonde has looked into my mind," he said, "and I have glimpsed
something of his. My people have already learned much about him,
though they have not yet discovered what he is. But one thing is certain— he is friendly, and was glad to find us. We have nothing to fear from him."

There was a brief silence after this outburst, and Hilvar relaxed with
a somewhat embarrassed expression. It was noticeable that the tension
in the Council Chamber lessened from then on, as if a cloud had lifted

from the spirits of those present. Certainly the President made no attempt,
as he was supposed to do, to censure Hilvar for his interruption.

It was clear to Alvin, as he listened to the debate, that three schools
of thought were represented on the Council. The conservatives, who were
in a minority, still hoped that the clock could be turned back and that
the old order could somehow be restored. Against all reason, they clung to the hope that Diaspar and Lys could be persuaded to forget each other
again.

The progressives were an equally small minority; the fact that there
were any on the Council at all pleased and surprised Alvin. They did not
exactly welcome this invasion of the outer world, but they were deter
mined to make the best of it. Some of them went so far as to suggest that
there might be a way of breaking through the psychological barriers which
for so long had sealed Diaspar even more effectively than the physical
ones.

Most of the Council, accurately reflecting the mood of the city, had adopted an attitude of watchful caution, while they waited for the pattern
of the future to emerge. They realized that they could make no general plans, nor try to carry out any definite policy, until the storm had passed.

Jeserac joined Alvin and Hilvar when the session was over. He
seemed to have changed since they had last met—and last parted—in
the Tower of Loranne, with the desert spread out beneath them. The
change was not one that Alvin had expected, though it was one that he
was to encounter more and more often in the days to come.

Jeserac seemed younger, as if the fires of life had found fresh fuel
and were burning more brightly in his veins. Despite his age, he was one
of those who could accept the challenge that Alvin had thrown to Diaspar.

"I have some news for you, Alvin," he said. "I think you know Senator Gerane."

Alvin was puzzled for a moment; then he remembered.

"Of course—he was one of the first men I met in Lys. Isn't he a mem
ber of their delegation?"

"Yes; we have grown to know each other quite well. He is a brilliant
man, and understands more about the human mind than I would have
believed possible—though he tells me that by the standards of Lys he is
only a beginner. While he is here, he is starting a project which will be very close to your heart. He is hoping to analyze the compulsion which
keeps us in the city, and he believes that once he has discovered how it
was imposed, he will be able to remove it. About twenty of us are al
ready co-operating with him."