The proctors did not follow him into his room; they knew that there was only the one exit, and stationed themselves outside that. Having had no instructions regarding the robot, they let it accompany Alvin. It was not a machine which they had any desire to interfere with, since its alien construction was obvious. From its behavior they could not tell whether it was a passive servant of Alvin’s or whether it was operating under its own volition. In view of this uncertainty, they were quite content to leave it severely alone.
Once the wall had sealed itself behind him, Alvin materialized his favorite divan and threw himself down upon it. Luxuriating in his familiar surroundings, he called out of the memory units his last efforts in painting and sculpture, and examined them with a critical eye. If they had failed to satisfy him before, they were doubly displeasing now, and he could take no further pride in them. The person who had created them no longer existed; into the few days he had been away from Diaspar, it seemed to Alvin that he had crowded the experience of a lifetime.
He canceled all these products of his adolescence, erasing them forever and not merely returning them to the Memory Banks. The room was empty again, apart from the couch on which he was reclining, and the robot that still watched with wide, unfathomable eyes. What did the robot think of Diaspar? wondered Alvin. Then he remembered that it was no stranger here, for it had known the city in the last days of its contact with the stars.
Not until he felt thoroughly at home once more did Alvin begin to call his friends. He began with Eriston and Etania, though out of the sense of duty rather than any real desire to see and speak to them again. He was not sorry when their communicators informed him that they were unavailable, but he left them both a brief message announcing his return. This was quite unnecessary, since by now the whole city would know that he was back. However, he hoped that they would appreciate his thoughtfulness; he was beginning to learn consideration, though he had not yet realized that, like most virtues, it had little merit unless it was spontaneous and unself-conscious.
Then acting on a sudden impulse, be called the number that Khedron had given him so long ago in the Tower of Loranne. He did not, of course, expect an answer, but there was always the possiility that Khedron had left a message. His guess was correct; but the message itself was shatteringly unexpected.
The wall dissolved, and Khedron was standing before him. The Jester looked tired and nervous, no longer the confident, slightly cynical person who had set Alvin on the path that led to Lys. There was a haunted look in his eyes, and he spoke as though he had very little time.
«Alvin,» he began, «this is a recording. Only you can receive it, but you can make what use of it you wish. It will not matter to me.
«When I got back to the Tomb of Yarlan Zey, I found that Alystra had been following us. She must have told the Council that you had left Diaspar, and that I had helped you. Very soon the proctors were looking for me, and I decided to go into hiding. I am used to that-I have done it before when some of my jests failed to be appreciated.» (There, thought Alvin, was a flash of the old Khedron.) «They could not have found me in a thousand years-but someone else nearly did. There are strangers in Diaspar, Alvin; they could only have come from Lys, and they are looking for me. I do not know what this means, and I do not like it. The fact that they nearly caught me, though they are in a city that must be strange to them suggests that they possess telepathic powers. I could fight the Council, but this is an unknown peril which I do not care to face.
«I am therefore anticipating a step which I think the Council might well force upon me, since it has been threatened before. I am going where no one can follow, and where I shall escape whatever changes are now about to happen to Diaspar. Perhaps I am foolish to do this; that is something which only time can prove. I shall know the answer one day.
«By now you will have guessed that I have gone back into the Hall of Creation, into the safety of the Memory Banks. Whatever happens, I put my trust in the Central Computer and the forces it controls for the benefit of Diaspar. If anything tampers with the Central Computer, we are all lost. If not, I have nothing to fear.
«To me, only a moment will seem to pass before I walk forth into Diaspar again, fifty or a hundred thousand years from now. I wonder what sort of city I shall find? It will be strange if you are there; some day, I suppose, we will meet again. I cannot say whether I look forward to that meeting or fear it.
«I have never understood you, Alvin, though there was a time when I was vain enough to think I did. Only the Central Computer knows the truth, as it knows the truth about all those other Uniques who have appeared from time to time down the ages and then were seen no more. Have you discovered what happened to them?»
«One reason, I suppose, why I am escaping into the future is because I am impatient. I want to see the results of what you have started, but I am anxious to miss the intermediate stages-which I suspect may be unpleasant. It will be interesting to see, in that world which will be around me in only a few minutes of apparent time from now, whether you are remembered as a creator or as a destroyer-or whether , you are remembered at all.»
«Good-bye, Alvin. I had thought of giving you some advice, but I do not suppose you would take it. You will go your own way, as you always have, and your friends will be tools to use or discard as occasion suits.»
«That is all. I can think of nothing more to say.»
For a moment Khedron-the Khedron who no longer existed save as a pattern of electric charges in the memory cells of the city-looked at Alvin with resignation and, it seemed, with sadness. Then the screen was blank again.
Alvin remained motionless for a long time after the image, of Khedron had faded. He was searching his soul as he had seldom done before in all his life, for he could not deny the truth of much that Khedron had said. When had he paused ; in all his schemes and adventures, to consider the effect of what he was doing upon any of his friends? He had brought anxiety to them and might soon bring worse-all because of his insatiable curiosity and the urge to discover what should not be known.
He had never been fond of Khedron; the Jester’s astringent personality prevented any close relationship, even if Alvin had desired it. Yet now, as he thought of Khedron’s parting words, he was shaken with remorse. Because of his actions, the Jester had fled from this age into the unknown future.
But surely, thought Alvin, he had no need to blame himself for that. It proved only what he had already known-that Khedron was a coward. Perhaps he was no more of a coward than anyone else in Diaspar, he had the additional misfortune of possessing a powerful imagination. Alvin could accept some responsibility for his fate, but by no means all.
Who else in Diaspar had he harmed or distressed? He thought of Jeserac, his tutor, who had been patient with what must have been his most difficult pupil. He remembered all the little kindnesses that his parents had shown him over the years, now that he looked back upon them, there were more than he had imagined.
And he thought of Alystra. She had loved him, and he had taken that love or ignored it as he chose. Yet what else was he to have done? Would she have been any happier had he spurned her completely?
He understood now why he had never loved Alystra, or any of the women he had known in Diaspar. That was another lesson that Lys had taught him. Diaspar had forgotten many things, and among them was the true meaning of love. In Airlee he had watched the mothers dandling their children on their knees, and had himself felt that protective tenderness for all small and helpless creatures that is love’s unselfish twin. Yet now there was no woman in Diaspar who knew or cared for what had once been the final aim of love.
There were no real emotions, no deep passions, in the immortal city. Perhaps such things only thrived because of their very transience, because they could not last. forever and lay always under the shadow which Diaspar had banished.
That was the moment, if such a moment ever existed, when Alvin realized what his destiny must be. Until now he had been the unconscious agent of his own i
mpulses. If he could have known so archaic an analogy, he might have compared himself to a rider on a runaway horse. It had taken him to many strange places, and might do so again, but in its wild galloping it had shown him its powers and taught him where he really wished to go.
Alvin’s reverie was rudely interrupted by the chimes of the wall screen. The timbre of the sound told him at once that this was no incoming call, but that someone had arrived to see him. He gave the admission signal, and a moment later was facing Jeserac.
His tutor looked grave, but not unfriendly.
«I have been asked to take you to the Council, Alvin,» he said. «It is waiting to hear you.» Then Jeserac saw the robot and examined it curiously. «So this is the companion you have brought back from your travels. I think it had better come with us.»
This suited Alvin very well. The robot had already extricated him from one dangerous situation, and he might have to call upon it again. He wondered what the machine had thought about the adventures and vicissitudes in which he had involved it, and wished for– the thousandth time that he could understand what was going on inside its closely shuttered mind. Alvin had the impression that for the moment it had decided to watch, analyze, and draw its own conclusion, doing nothing of its own volition until it had judged the time was ripe. Then, perhaps quite suddenly, it might decide to act; and what it chose to do might not suit Alvin’s plans. The only ally he possessed was bound to him by the most tenuous ties of self interest and might desert him at any moment.
Alystra was waiting for them on the ramp that led out into the street. Even if Alvin had wished to blame her for whatever part she had played in revealing his secret, he did not have the heart to do so. Her distress was too obvious, and her eyes brimmed with tears as she ran up to greet him.
«Oh, Alvin!» she cried. «What are they going to do with you?»
Alvin took her hands in his with a tenderness that surprised them both.
«Don’t worry, Alystra,» he said. «Everything is going to be all right. After all, at the very worst the Council can only send me back to the Memory Banks-and somehow I don’t think that will happen.»
Her beauty and her unhappiness were so appealing that, even now, Alvin felt his body responding to her presence after its old fashion. But it was the lure of the body alone; he did not disdain it, but it was no longer enough. Gently he disengaged his hands and turned to follow Jeserac toward the Council Chamber.
Alystra’s heart was lonely, but no longer bitter, as she watched him go. She knew now that she had not lost him, for he had never belonged to her. And with the acceptance of that knowledge, she had begun to put herself beyond the power of vain regrets.
Alvin scarcely noticed the curious or horrified glances of his fellow citizens as he and his retinue made their way through the familiar streets. He was marshaling the arguments he might have to use, and arranging his story in theform most favorable to himself. From time to time he assured himself that he was not in the least alarmed and thathe was still master of the situation. They waited only a few minutes in the anteroom, but it was long enough for Alvin to wonder why, if he was unafraid, his legs felt so curiously weak. He had known this sensation before when be had forced himself up the last slopes of that distant hill in Lys, where Hilvar had shown him the waterfall from whose summit they had seen the explosion of light that’had drawn them to Shalmirane. He wondered what Hilvar was doing now, and if they would ever meet again. It was suddenly very important to him that they should.
The great doors dilated, and he followed Jeserac into the Council Chamber. The twenty members were already seated around their crescent-shaped table, and Alvin felt flattered as he noticed that there were no empty places. This must be the first time for many centuries that the entire Council had been gathered together without a single abstention. Its rare meetings were usually a complete formality, all ordinary business being dealt with by a few visiphone calls and, if necessary, an interview betwen the President and the Central Computer.
Alvin knew by sight most of the members of the Council, and felt reassured by the presence of so many familiar faces. Like Jeserac, they did not seem unfriendly-merely anxious and puzzled. They were, after all, reasonable men. They might be annoyed that someone had proved them wrong, but Alvin did not believe that they would bear him any resentment. Once this would have been a very rash assumption, but human nature had improved in some respects.
Tey would give him a fair hearing, but what they thought was not all-important. His judge now would not be the Council. It would be the Central Computer.
Sixteen
There were no formalities. The President declared the meeting open and then turned to Alvin.
«Alvin,» he said, kindly enough, «we would like you to tell us what has happened to you since you disappeared ten days ago.»
The use of the word «disappeared,» thought Alvin, was highly significant. Even now, the Council was reluctant to admit that he had really gone outside Diaspar. He wondered if they knew that there had been strangers in the city, and rather doubted it. In that event they would have shown considerably more alarm.
He told his story clearly and without any dramatics. It was strange and unbelievable enough to their ears, and needed no embellishment. Only at one place did he depart from strict accuracy, for he said nothing about the manner of his escape from Lys. It seemed more than likely that he might want to use the same method again.
It was fascinating to watch the way in which the attitude of the Council members altered during the course of his narrative. At first they were skeptical, refusing to accept the denial of ail they had believed, the violation of their deepest prejudices When Alvin told them of his passionate desire to explore the world beyond the city, and his irrational conviction that such a world did exist, they stared at him as if he was some strange and incomprehensible animal. To their minds, indeed, he was But finally they were compelled to admit that he had been right, and that they had been mistaken. As Alvin’s story unfolded, any doubts they may have had slowly dissolved. They might not like what he had told them, but they could no longer deny its truth. If they felt tempted to do so, they had only to look at Alvin’s silent companion. There was only one aspect of his tale that roused their indignation-and then it was not directed toward him. A buzz of annoyance went around the chamber as Alvin explained the anxiety of Lys -to avoid contamination with Diaspar, and the steps that Seranis had taken to prevent such a catastrophe. The city was proud of its culture, and with good reason. That anyone should regard them as inferiors was more than the Council members could tolerate.
Alvin was very careful not to give offense in anything he said; he wanted, as far as possible, to win the Council to his side. Throughout, he tried to give the impression that he had seen nothing wrong in what he had done, and that he expected praise rather than censure for his discoveries. It was the best policy he could have adopted, for it disarmed most of his would-be critics in advance. It also had the effect -though he had not intended this-of transferring any blame to the vanished Khedron. Alvin himself, it was clear to his listeners, was too young to see any danger in what he was doing. The Jester, however, should certainly have known better and had acted in a thoroughly irresponsible fashion. They did not yet know how fully Khedron himself had agreed with them.
Jeserac, as Alvin’s tutor, was also deserving of some censure, and from time to time several of the councilors gave him thoughtful glances. He did not seem to mind, though he was perfectly well aware of what they were thinking. There was a certain honor in having instructed the most original mind that had come into Diaspar since the Dawn Ages, and nothing could rob Jeserac of that. Not until Alvin had finished the factual account of his adventures did be attempt a little persuasion. Somehow, he would have to convince these men of the truths that he had learned in Lys, but now how could he make them really understand something that they had never seen and could hardly imagine?
«It seems a great tragedy,» he said, «that the two surviv
ing branches of the human race should have become separated for such an enormous period of time. One day, perhaps, we may know how it happened, but it is more important now to repair the break-to prevent it happening again. When I was in Lys I protested against their view that they were superior to us; they may have much to teach us, but we also have much to teach them. If we both believe that we have nothing to learn from the other, is it not obvious that we will both be wrong?»
He looked expectantly along the line of faces, and was encouraged to go on.
«Our ancestors,» he continued, «built an empire that reached to the stars. Men came and went at will among all those worlds-and now their descendants are afraid to stir beyond the walls of their city. Shall 1 tell you why?» He paused; there was no movement at all in the great, bare room.
«It is because we are afraid-afraid of something that happened at the beginning of history. I was told the truth in Lys, though I guessed it long ago. Must we always hide like cowards in Diaspar, pretending that nothing else exists -because a billion years ago the invaders drove us back to Earth?»
He had put his finger on their secret fear-the fear that he had never shared and whose power he could therefore never fully understand. Now let them do what they pleased; he had spoken the truth as he saw it.
The President looked at him gravely.
«Have you anything more to say,» he asked, «before we consider what is to be done?»
Only one thing. I would like to take this robot to the Central Computer.»
«But why? You know that the Computer is already aware of everything that has happened in this room.»
“I still wish to go,» replied Alvin politely but stubbornly. «I ask permission both of the Council and the Computer.»
Before the President could reply, a clear, calm voice sounded through the chamber. Alvin had never heard it before in his life, but he knew what it was that spoke. The information machines, which were no more than outlying fragments of this great intelligence, could speak to men but they did not possess this unmistakable accent of wisdom and authority.
The City and the Stars Page 16