The Collected Stories of Arthur C. Clarke (7 page)

‘That’s Dr Anstey,’ Norman whispered to Daphne. ‘He’s in charge here. A nice chap, but always going off the deep end about something. Let’s see what it is this time.’

They followed the excited little scientist through one of the connecting corridors into the next dome. It was packed with men who looked around as they approached, then cleared a way for Professor Martin. As she followed her father into the centre of the room, Daphne saw that they were approaching a perfectly ordinary table on which was standing a far-from-ordinary object.

At first sight, it resembled a fragment of multicoloured coral from the bed of some Pacific lagoon. No—perhaps it was more like a piece of petrified cactus, strangely coloured with reds and greens and golds. It stood on a slab of rock in which it seemed to be rooted like a stalagmite—but it was easy to tell that it was no mere mineral formation.

It was Life—here on the barren, airless Moon, here on the world which for so long had been the symbol of empty desolation! As she stood in that quiet, yet crowded, room, Daphne knew that she was present at one of the great moments in the history of lunar exploration.

Presently Professor Martin broke the silence. He turned to a grimy, unshaven man who, Daphne guessed, was the leader of the party that had just returned.

‘Where did you find it, Hargreaves?’ he asked.

‘About 60 North, 155 West—just where the Ocean of Eternity joins the Lake of Dreams. There’s a valley about five miles long and a couple of miles wide, and it’s full of these things, acres and acres of them, all the colours of the rainbow. They’re all sizes from a few inches high up to about twenty feet.’

Professor Martin leaned forward and gingerly touched the enigma standing motionless on the table-top.

‘It feels just like rock,’ he said, and there was disappointment in his voice. ‘We’re a few million years too late—it’s fossilised.’

‘I don’t think so,’ replied Hargreaves, shaking his head vigorously. ‘I can’t prove it, but when I was in that valley I somehow knew that these—plants, or whatever you can call them—are alive and still growing. Maybe they grow so slowly that it takes them thousands of years to get this big. They’re like nothing we’ve got on Earth, but I’m sure they’re alive.’

‘Perhaps you’re right; that’s a problem for the biologists to work out. Anyway, congratulations—this is going to make you immortal, because when they give this thing a name they’re sure to call it after you!’

‘Just Joe’s luck,’ said Norman in disgust. ‘The only excitement
I
ever get on these trips is when my tractor breaks down!’

This discovery had completely overshadowed the visit of Professor Martin and his family, which would otherwise have been quite an important event in the life of the little community. But presently the normal routine was resumed, and the scientists drifted back to their work, with many backward glances at the silent, multicoloured entity that had so suddenly changed all their preconceived ideas about the Moon. They were no longer the only living creatures on its surface, and perhaps—who knows?—there were other and still stranger beings in the hidden places of this mysterious world.

Rather belatedly, Professor Martin introduced his family to Dr Anstey, who still seemed in a somewhat highly-strung condition.

‘Very pleased to meet you,’ he said absentmindedly. ‘How long will you be staying here?’

‘Until the transport goes back, the day after tomorrow,’ replied Professor Martin.

Dr Anstey suddenly seemed to come out of his trance and remembered his duty as a host. He smiled apologetically at Mrs Martin.

‘I’m afraid you’ll find the quarters a little cramped, but we’ve done our best. This is the first time we’ve had visitors here on the back of the Moon!’

Mrs Martin was now becoming accustomed to unusual residences, and was not in the least surprised to find herself ushered into a tiny, first-floor room tucked under the curve of the dome. Set in the outer wall was a small porthole through which one could look to the south across a wide plain, broken at intervals by low, razor-backed hills.

With a sigh of relief, Mrs Martin sank into one of the pneumatic armchairs. It was a little disturbing to think that not only was all the furniture kept inflated by air-pressure, but so also was the very building itself. What would happen if there was a puncture? Presumably the whole place would collapse like a pricked balloon as the air rushed out into space. Oh, well, it was no use worrying…

Perhaps Daphne was engrossed in similar thoughts, for she walked to the curving wall, prodded it gently with her finger, and then, apparently reassured, settled down in the other chair.

Her mother wondered just what effect this trip was having on her. It was easy to tell with Michael; he was in his element and having the time of his life. But with Daphne one could never be quite sure. She seemed to be enjoying herself, yet she was very quiet and scarcely ever made any comments on the surprising things that were happening around her. Perhaps, like so many of her generation, she had learned to take the incredible for granted.

That, as it happened, was scarcely true. The things she had seen on the Moon—above all, her glimpses through the giant telescope of the sky’s countless wonders—were beginning to fire Daphne’s imagination. Now at last she understood that science was not merely an affair of dry equations and dull text-books, but had a poetry and a magic of its own. A new world had been opened up before her—it was a world she could enter if she wished.

She had never realised, until Professor Martin had mentioned it casually, how many well-known women astronomers there had been—right back to the most famous of them all, Caroline Herschel, who had helped her brother Sir William record his observations during the long winter nights, even when the ink was freezing in its well.

In the twentieth century more and more women had made their names in this rapidly advancing field of science, until in some of its branches they had outnumbered the men. All these facts had been quite unknown to Daphne, and they were beginning to fire her with a new ambition.

Two days at the Second Base passed very swiftly. There was, Daphne discovered, a spirit here quite unlike that at the Observatory. Perhaps the fact that the Earth was no longer visible in the sky, giving not only light but a kind of moral support, provided part of the explanation. Here indeed, it seemed, was the true frontier of the unknown—and it was an exciting experience to be living on it.

Almost every day the little pressurised tractors were setting out on their raids into unexplored lunar territory, or returning from earlier expeditions. Daphne attended the briefing of a crew about to leave on a ten-day trip that would cover over a thousand miles. She had once seen a film showing how bomber crews in the Second World War were prepared for their missions. There was the same atmosphere of adventure coupled with scientific efficiency as Norman and his companions consulted their maps and discussed their route with Dr Anstey.

The conversation was too technical for Daphne to follow much of it, but she was fascinated by the wonderful names of the regions across which the expedition would be travelling. When the far side of the Moon had been mapped, men had continued the tradition already set on the visible hemisphere and had used the most poetical names they could imagine for the great plains, while calling the craters themselves after famous scientists.

Before he left, Norman gave Daphne a souvenir to take back to Earth. It was a beautifully coloured mass of crystals growing out of some strange lunar rock; he told her its name, although it was much too long to remember. As she stared at it in fascination, Norman explained: ‘Pretty, isn’t it? We’ve found it on only one part of the Moon—the Gulf of Solitude—and it doesn’t occur on Earth at all. So it’s really unique.’

Then he paused and said awkwardly, ‘Well, it’s been awfully nice showing you around. I don’t think that anyone else has ever seen quite as much of the Moon in such a short time! And—I hope you’ll be coming back some day.’

Daphne remembered these words as, through the observation windows of the dome, she watched Norman’s little tractor disappear over the edge of the Moon on its way into the unknown south. What would he find on this expedition? Would he be as lucky as Hargreaves?

It was still early in the long lunar morning when they began the homeward journey. Professor Martin had finished his official business, and in any case they could wait no longer—they had a spaceship to catch.
That
was something to be proud of! Not a mere train or a commonplace aircraft—but a
spaceship
!

Daphne was fast asleep when they finally reached the Observatory. She woke with a start when the steady vibration of the bus finally ceased, and found to her surprise that they were once more back in the big underground garage. Sleepily clutching her suitcase, she followed Mrs Martin back to their old rooms, where she promptly resumed her interrupted slumbers.

Only a few minutes later, it seemed, her mother was shaking her by the shoulder and saying it was time to get up again. Her last day on the Moon had arrived; there was luggage to be packed, farewells to be made and—this was something no one had warned her about—some pills to be taken under the watchful eye of the Observatory Medical Officer. She was going back into a gravity field six times as strong as the one she had now become used to, and the consequences might be unpleasant unless the right precautions were taken.

Even Michael was a little subdued as they entered the garage for the last time to drive out to the waiting spaceship. The great gleaming pillar of metal was standing there on the open plain with the brilliant earthlight flashing from its sides. The tractor drove up to the base of the ship and they prepared to enter the lift that would carry them up to the airlock high above their heads.

Professor Martin was saying goodbye to his wife, and presently he came over to the children.

‘I rather wish I were going back with you,’ he said with a smile, ‘but perhaps you understand now why I came here in the first place. When you’ve had time to sort yourselves out, write and tell me what you thought about the Moon, won’t you? Oh—and one other thing! Don’t be
too
superior to all your friends when you do get back to Earth!’

Then the metal doors silently separated them, to open again a minute later into the cabin of the spaceship.

To Daphne, it seemed incredible that only a fortnight ago she had entered this cabin for the first time on a distant world called Earth. So much had happened in those days; what she had seen here would colour all her life.

She knew that nothing would ever seem quite the same to her again. Earth was no longer everything that mattered—no longer the centre of the universe. It was only one world among many, merely the first of the planets on which men had lived. One day, perhaps, it would not even seem the most important…

The thunder of the rockets burst in upon her day-dreams and brought her back to the present. She felt the thrust of increasing weight as she sank into her couch, and once again her limbs became suddenly like lead. The massed millions of horsepower safely chained by the gleaming instruments on the control board were taking her home—taking her away from the cold and silent beauty of the Moon.

The crater rings, the dark chasms, the great plains with their magic and mysterious names—all these were falling swiftly away beneath the climbing ship. In a few hours, the Moon would be no more than a distant globe, dwindling in space.

But one day, Daphne knew, she would return. This world, not Earth, would be her home. At last she had found her ambition, although as yet she had breathed a word of it to no one. There would be years of study ahead, but in the end she would join the quest for the secrets of the stars.

Her holiday was over.

Earthlight

First published
Thrilling Wonder Stories
, August 1951

Not previously collected in book form

I am very proud of the fact that the Apollo-15 crew gave this name to a crater which they drove past in their lunar rover. On their return to earth, they sent me a beautiful 3-D map bearing the inscription: ‘To Arthur Clarke with best personal regards from the crew of Apollo 15 and many thanks for your visions in space.’