Clarke, Arthur C - Fall of Night 02 (23 page)

 
          
 
One of these minds, Vanamonde saw at once, was
more sympathetic and accessible than the other. He could tell that both were
filled with wonder at his presence, and that surprised him greatly. It was hard
to believe that they could have forgotten: forgetfulness, like mortality, was
beyond the comprehension of Vanamonde.

 
          
 
Communication was very difficult: many of the
thought-images in their minds were so strange that he could hardly recognize
them. He was puzzled and a little frightened by the recurrent fear-pattern of
the Invaders; it reminded him of his own emotions when the Black Sun first came
into his field of knowledge.

 
          
 
But they knew nothing of the Black Sun, and
now their own questions were beginning to form in his mind.

 
          
 
''What are yon?''''

 
          
 
He gave the only reply he could.

 
          
 
“I am Vanamonde
. "

 
          
 
There came a pause (how long the pattern of
their thoughts took to form!) and then the question was repeated. They had not
understood: that was strange, for surely their kind had given him his name for
it to be among the memories of his birth. Those memories were very few, and
they began strangely at a single point in time, but they were crystal-clear.

 
          
 
Again their tiny thoughts struggled up into
his consciousness.

 
          
 
"Who were the Great Ones—are you one of
them yourself?"

 
          
 
He did not know: they could scarcely believe
him, and their disappointment came sharp and clear across the abyss separating
their minds from his. But they were patient and he was glad to help them, for
their quest was the same as his and they gave him the first companionship he
had ever known.

 
          
 
As long as he lived,
Alvin
did not believe he would ever again undergo
so strange an experience as this soundless conversation. It was hard to believe
that he could be little more than a spectator, for he did not care to admit,
even to himself, that Theon's mind was so much more powerful than his own. He
could only wait and wonder, half dazed by the torrent of thought just beyond
the limits of his understanding.

 
          
 
Presently Theon, rather pale and strained,
broke off the contact and turned to his friend.

 
          
 
"
Alvin
," he said, his voice very tired,
"there's something strange here. I don't understand it at all."

 
          
 
The news did a little to restore
Alvin
's self-esteem, and his face must have shown
his feelings, for Theon gave a sudden, not unsympathetic laugh.

 
          
 
"I can't discover what
this—Vanamonde—is," he continued. "It's a creature of tremendous
knowledge, but it seems to have very httle intelhgence. Of course," he
added, "its mind may be of such a different order that we can't understand
it—yet somehow I don't beheve that is the right explanation."

 
          
 
"Well, what have you learned?" asked
Alvin
with some impatience. "Does it know
anything about this place?"

 
          
 
Theon's mind still seemed very far away.

 
          
 
"This city was built by many races,
including our own," he said absently. "It can give me facts like
that, but it doesn't seem to understand their meaning. I believe it's conscious
of the past, without being able to interpret it. Everything that's ever
happened seems jumbled together in its mind."

 
          
 
He paused thoughtfully for a moment: then his
face lightened.

 
          
 
"There's only one thing to do: somehow or
other, we must get Vanamonde to Earth so that our philosophers can study
him."

 
          
 
"Would that be safe?" asked
Alvin
.

 
          
 
"Yes," answered Theon, thinking how
uncharacteristic his friend's remark was. "Vanamonde is friendly. More
than that, in fact—he seems almost affectionate."

 
          
 
And quite suddenly the thought that all the
while had been hovering at the edge of
Alvin
's consciousness came clearly into view. He
remembered Krif and the small animals that were constantly escaping ("It
won't happen again.
Mother") to annoy Seranis.
And he recalled—how long ago that seemed!—the zoological purpose behind their
expedition to Shalmirane.

 
          
 
Theon had found a new pet.

 
          
 
They landed at
noon
in the glade of Airlee, with no thought of
concealment now.
Alvin
wondered 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: Theon believed, and his knowledge
was more direct, that only Vanamonde's sphere of attention could be said to
have any location in space.

 
          
 
As they left the ship the doors closed softly
behind them and a sudden wind tugged at their clothes. Then the machine was
only a silver dot falling into the sky, returning to the world where it
belonged until
Alvin
should need it again.

 
          
 
Seranis was waiting for them as Theon had known
and
Alvin
had half expected. She looked at the boys
in silence for a while,
then
said quietly to
Alvin
:

 
          
 
"You're making life rather complicated
for us, aren't you?"

 
          
 
There was no rancor in the words, only a
half-humorous resignation and even a dawning approval.

 
          
 
Alvin
sensed her meaning at once.

 
          
 
"Then Vanamonde's arrived?"

 
          
 
"Yes, hours ago.
Since dawn we have learned more of history than we knew 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, surrounded 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 Theon. "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 must
have used that ability to follow your path back to Earth."

 
          
 
Alvin
stood in silence, for once somewhat
overcome. He realized how right Theon 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 ive 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 Theon 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 since he doesn't understand 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.

 
          
 
"Rorden should be here," he said,
coming to a sudden decision. "I'm going to Diaspar to fetch him."

 
          
 
''And Jeserac," he added, in a determined
afterthought.

 
          
 
Rorden had never seen a whirlwind, but if one
had hit him the experience would have felt perfectly familiar. There were times
when his sense of reality ceased to function, and the feeling that everything
was a dream became almost overwhelming. This was such a moment now.

 
          
 
He closed his eyes and tried to recall the
familiar room in Diaspar which had once been both a part of his personality and
a barrier against the outer world. What would he have thought, he wondered,
could he have looked into the future when he had first met
Alvin
and seen the outcome of that encounter? But
of one thing he was sure and a little proud: he would not have turned aside.

 
          
 
The boat was moving slowly across the lake
with a gentle rocking motion that Rorden found rather pleasant. Why the
village
of
Gre-varn
had been built on an island he could not
imagine: it seemed a most inconvenient arrangement. It was true that the
colored houses, which seemed to float at anchor upon the tiny waves, made a
scene of almost unreal beauty. That was all very well, thought Rorden, but one
couldn't spend the whole of one's life staring at scenery. Then he remembered
that this was precisely what many of these eccentric people did.

 
          
 
Eccentric or not, they had minds he could
respect. To him the thoughts of Vanamonde were as meaningless as a thousand
voices shouting together in some vast, echoing cave. Yet the men of
Lys
could disentangle them, could record them
to be analyzed at leisure. Already the structure of the past, which had once
seemed lost forever, was becoming faintly visible. And it was so strange and
unexpected that it appeared to bear no resemblance at all to the history that
Rorden had always believed.