Childhood's End - Arthur C. Clarke [84]
"Look," she whispered. "I can see Jeff. By that second door."
It was a long way away, and very hard to be certain. There was a mist before his eyes which made it hard to see. But it was Jeff-he was sure of that; George could recognize his son now, as he stood with one foot already on the metal gangway.
And Jeff turned and looked back. His face was only a white blur; at this distance, there was no way of telling if it bore any hint of recognition, any remembrance for all that he was leaving behind. Nor would George ever know if Jeff had turned towards them by pure chance-or if he knew, in those last moments while he was still their son, that they stood watching him as he passed into the land that they could never enter.
The great doors began to close. And in that moment Fey lifted up her muzzle and gave a low, desolate moan. She turned her beautiful limpid eyes towards George, and he knew that she had lost her master. He had no rival now.
***
For those who were left there were many roads but only one destination. There were some who said; "The world is still beautiful; one day we must leave it, but why should we hasten our departure?"
But others, who had set more store by the future than the past, and had lost all that made life worth living, did not wish to stay. They took their leave alone, or with their friends, according to their nature.
It was thus with Athens. The Island had been born in fire; in fire it chose to die. Those who wished to leave did so, but most remained, to meet the end amid the broken fragments of their dreams.
***
No one was supposed to know when the time would be. Yet Jean awoke in the stillness of the night, and lay for a moment staring at the ghostly glimmer from the ceiling. Then she reached out to grasp George's hand. He was a sound sleeper, but this time he woke at once. They did not speak, for the words that were wanted did not exist.
Jean was no longer frightened, or even sad. She had come through to the calm waters and was beyond emotion now. But there was one thing still to be done, and she knew that there was barely time to do it.
Still without a word, George followed her through the silent house. They went across the patch of moonlight that had entered through the studio roof, moving as quietly as the shadows it cast, until they came to the deserted nursery.
Nothing had been changed. The fluoro-patterns that George had painted so carefully still glowed on the walls. And the rattle that had once belonged to Jennifer Anne still lay where she had dropped it, when her mind turned into the unknowable remoteness it inhabited now.
She had left her toys behind, thought George, but ours go hence with us. He thought of the royal children of the Pharaohs, whose dolls and beads had been buried with them five thousand years ago. So it would be again. no one else, he told himself, will ever love our treasures; we will take them with us, and will not part with them.
Slowly Jean turned towards him, and rested her head upon his shoulder. He clasped his arms about her waist, and the love he had once known came back to him, faint yet clear, like an echo from a distant range of hills. It was too late now to say all that was due to her, and the regrets he felt were less for his deceits than for his past indifference.
Then Jean said quietly; "Goodbye, my darling" and tightened her arms about him. There was no time for George to answer, but even at that final moment he felt a brief astonishment as he wondered how she knew that the moment had arrived.
Far down in the rock, the segments of uranium began to rush together, seeking the union they could never achieve.
And the Island rose to meet the dawn.
Chapter 22
The ship of the Overlords came sliding in along its glowing meteor-trail through the heart of Carina. It had begun its mad deceleration among the outer planets, but even while passing Mars it had still possessed an appreciable fraction of the velocity of light. Slowly the immense fields surrounding the Sun were absorbing its momentum,