From the Ocean from teh Stars (76 page)

"What do you want me to do?" said Alvin cautiously.

"Will yourself to accept my help—look at my eyes—and forget every
thing," commanded Seranis.

Alvin was never sure what happened then. There was a total eclipse
of all his senses, and though he could never remember acquiring it, when
he looked into his mind the knowledge was there.

He saw back into the past, not clearly, but as a man on some high
mountain might look out across a misty plain. He understood that Man
had not always been a city dweller, and that since the machines gave
him freedom from toil there had always been a rivalry between two
different types of civilization. In the Dawn Ages there had been thou
sands of cities, but a large part of mankind had preferred to live in
relatively small communities. Universal transport and instantaneous com
munication had given them all the contact they required with the rest
of the world, and they felt no need to live huddled together with millions
of their fellows.

Lys had been little different, in the early days, from hundreds of
other communities. But gradually, over the ages, it developed an inde
pendent culture which was one of the highest that mankind had ever
known. It was a culture based largely upon the direct use of mental
power, and this set it apart from the rest of human society, which came
to rely more and more upon machines.

Through the aeons, as they advanced along their different roads, the
gulf between Lys and the cities widened. It was bridged only in times of
great crisis; when the Moon was falling, its destruction was carried out
by the scientists of Lys. So also was the defense of Earth against the
Invaders, who were held at bay in the final Battle of Shalmirane.

That great ordeal exhausted mankind; one by one the cities died and the desert rolled over them. As the population fell, humanity began the
migration that was to make Diaspar the last and greatest of all cities.

Most of these changes did not affect Lys, but it had its own battle
to fight—the battle against the desert. The natural barrier of the moun
tains was not enough, and many ages passed before the great oasis was made secure. The picture was blurred here, perhaps deliberately. Alvin
could not see what had been done to give Lys the virtual eternity that
Diaspar had achieved.

The voice of Seranis seemed to come to him from a great distance—
yet it was not her voice alone, for it was merged into a symphony of
words, as though many other tongues were chanting in unison with hers.

"That, very briefly, is our history. You will see that even in the Dawn
Ages we had little to do with the cities, though their people often came

into our land. We never hindered them, for many of our greatest men
came from outside, but when the cities were dying we did not wish to be
involved in their downfall. With the ending of air transport there was
only one way into Lys—the carrier system from Diaspar. It was closed
at your end, when the park was built—and you forgot us, though we
have never forgotten you.

"Diaspar has surprised us. We expected it to go the way of all other
cities, but instead it has achieved a stable culture that may last as long as Earth. It is not a culture that we admire, yet we are glad that those
who wish to escape have been able to do so. More than you might think
have made the journey, and they have almost always been outstanding
men who brought something of value with them when they came to Lys."

The voice faded; the paralysis of Alvin's senses ebbed away and he
was himself again. He saw with astonishment that the sun had fallen far
below the trees and that the eastern sky already held a hint of night.
Somewhere a great bell vibrated with a throbbing boom that pulsed
slowly into silence, leaving the air tense with mystery and premonition.
Alvin found himself trembling slightly, not with the first touch of the
evening's chill, but through sheer awe and wonder at all that he had
learned. It was very late, and he was far from home. He had a sudden
need to see his friends again, and to be among the familiar sights and
scenes of Diaspar.

"I must return," he said. "Khedron—my parents—they will be ex
pecting me."

That was not wholly true; Khedron would certainly be wondering what
had happened to him, but as far as Alvin was aware no one else knew that
he had left Diaspar. He could not have explained the reason for this mild
deceit, and was slightly ashamed of himself as soon as he had uttered
the words.

Seranis looked at him thoughtfully.

"I am afraid it is not as easy as that," she said.

"What do you mean?" asked Alvin. "Won't the carrier that brought me here take me back again?" He still refused to face the fact that he
might be held in Lys against his will, though the idea had briefly crossed
his mind.

For the first time, Seranis seemed slightly ill at ease.

"We have been talking about you," she said—not explaining who
the "we" might be, nor exactly how they had consulted together. "If
you return to Diaspar, the whole city will know about us. Even if you
promised to say nothing, you would find it impossible to keep our secret."

"Why should you wish it kept?" asked Alvin. "Surely it would be a
good thing for both our peoples if they could meet again."

Seranis looked displeased.

"We do not think so," she said. "If the gates were opened, our land
would be flooded with the idly curious and the sensation seekers. As it
is now, only the best of your people have ever reached us."

This reply radiated so much unconscious superiority, yet was based
on such false assumptions, that Alvin felt his annoyance quite eclipse his
alarm.

"That isn't true," he said flatly. "I do not believe you would find
another person in Diaspar who could leave the city, even if he wanted to
—even if he knew that there was somewhere to go. If you let me return,
it would make no difference to Lys."

"It is not my decision," explained Seranis, "and you underestimate
the powers of the mind if you think that the barriers that keep your
people inside their city can never be broken. However, we do not wish
to hold you here against your will, but if you return to Diaspar we must
erase all memories of Lys from your mind." She hesitated for a moment. "This has never risen before; all your predecessors came here to stay."

Here was a choice that Alvin refused to accept. He wanted to explore
Lys, to learn all its secrets, to discover the ways in which it differed from
his own home, but equally he was determined to return to Diaspar, so
that he could prove to his friends that he had been no idle dreamer. He
could not understand the reasons prompting this desire for secrecy; even
if he had, it would not have made any difference in his behavior.

He realized that he must play for time or else convince Seranis that
what she asked of him was impossible.

"Khedron knows where I am," he said. "You cannot erase
his
mem
ories."

Seranis smiled. It was a pleasant smile, and one that in any other
circumstances would have been friendly enough. But behind it Alvin
glimpsed, for the first time, the presence of overwhelming and impla
cable power.

"You underestimate us, Alvin," she replied. "That would be very easy.
I can reach Diaspar more quickly than I can cross Lys. Other men have
come here before, and some of them told their friends where they were going. Yet those friends forgot them, and they vanished from the history
of Diaspar."

Alvin had been foolish to ignore this possibility, though it was obvi
ous, now that Seranis had pointed it out. He wondered how many times, in the millions of years since the two cultures were separated, men from

Lys had gone into Diaspar in order to preserve their jealously guarded
secret. And he wondered just how extensive were the mental powers
which these strange people possessed and did not hesitate to use.

Was it safe to make any plans at all? Seranis had promised that she would not read his mind without his consent, but he wondered if there
might be circumstances in which that promise would not be kept.

"Surely," he said, "you don't expect me to make the decision at
once. Cannot I see something of your country before I make my choice?"

"Of course," replied Seranis. "You can stay here as long as you wish,
and still return to Diaspar eventually if you change your mind. But if
you can decide within the next few days, it will be very much easier. You
do not want your friends to be worried, and the longer you are missing
the harder it will be for us to make the necessary adjustments."

Alvin could appreciate that; he would like to know just what those
"adjustments" were. Presumably someone from Lys would contact Khed-
ron—without the Jester ever being aware of it—and tamper with his
mind. The fact of Alvin's disappearance could not be concealed, but the
information that he and Khedron had discovered could be obliterated.
As the ages passed, Alvin's name would join those of the other Uniques
who had mysteriously vanished without trace and had then been for
gotten.

There were many mysteries here, and he seemed no closer to solving any of them. Was there any purpose behind the curious, one-sided re
lationship between Lys and Diaspar, or was it merely a historical acci
dent? Who and what were the Uniques, and if the people from Lys could enter Diaspar, why had they not canceled the memory circuits
that held the clue to their existence? Perhaps that was the only question
to which Alvin could give a plausible answer. The Central Computer
might be too stubborn an opponent to tackle, and would hardly be af
fected by even the most advanced of mental techniques.

He put these problems aside; one day, when he had learned a great
deal more, he might have some chance of answering them. It was idle
to speculate, to build pyramids of surmise on a foundation of ignorance.

"Very well," he said, though not too graciously, for he was still an
noyed that this unexpected obstacle had been placed in his path. "I'll
give you my answer as soon as I can, if you will show me what your land is
like."

"Good," said Seranis, and this time her smile held no hidden threat.
"We are proud of Lys, and it will be a pleasure to show you how men
can live without the aid of cities. Meanwhile, there is no need for you

to worry—your friends will not be alarmed by your absence. We shall
see to that, if only for our own protection."

It was the first time Seranis had ever made a promise that she could
not keep.

☆
CHAPTER ELEVEN

T
ry as she would, Alystra could extract no further in
formation from Khedron. The Jester had recovered quickly from his
initial shock, and from the panic that had sent him flying back to the
surface when he found himself alone in the depths beneath the Tomb.
He also felt ashamed of his cowardly behavior, and wondered if he would
ever have the courage to return to the chamber of the moving ways and
the network of world-ranging tunnels that radiated from it. Although he
felt that Alvin had been impatient, if not indeed foolhardy, he did not
really believe that he would run into any danger. He would return in his own good time, Khedron was certain of that. Well, almost certain; there
was just enough doubt to make him feel the need for caution. It would
be wise, he decided, to say as little as possible for the time being, and to pass the whole thing off as another joke.

Unfortunately for this plan, he had not been able to mask his emo
tions when Alystra encountered him on his return to the surface. She
had seen the fear written so unmistakably in his eyes, and had at once interpreted it as meaning that Alvin was in danger. All Khedron's re
assurances were in vain, and she became more and more angry with him
as they walked together back through the park. At first Alystra had wanted to remain at the Tomb, waiting for Alvin to return in whatever mysterious
manner he had vanished. Khedron had managed to convince her that
this would be a waste of time, and was relieved when she followed him
back to the city. There was a chance that Alvin might return almost
at once, and he did not wish anyone else to discover the secret of Yarlan
Zey.

By the time they had reached the city, it was obvious to Khedron
that his evasive tactics had failed completely and that the situation was
seriously out of hand. It was the first time in his life that he had ever been
at a loss and had not felt himself capable of dealing with any problem
that arose. His immediate and irrational fear was being slowly replaced
by a profounder and more firmly based alarm. Until now, Khedron had given little thought to the consequences of his actions. His own interests,