The City And The Stars - Arthur C. Clarke [104]
But they knew nothing of the Black Sun, and now their own questions were beginning to form in his mind.
‘What are you?’
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.
‘Where are the people who built the Seven Suns? What happened to them?’
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 Hilvar’s mind was in some ways so much more capable than his own. He could only wait and wonder, half dazed by the torrent of thought just beyond the limits of his understanding.
Presently Hilvar, 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 Hilvar gave a sudden, sympathetic smile.
‘I can’t discover what this—Vanamonde—is,’ he continued. ‘It’s a creature of tremendous knowledge, but it seems to have very little intelligence. Of course,’ he added, ‘it’s mind may be of such a different order that we can’t understand it—yet somehow I don’t believe that is the right explanation.’
‘Well, what have you learned?’ asked Alvin with some impatience. ‘Does it know anything about the Seven Suns?’
Hilvar’s mind still seemed very far away.
‘They were 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 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 Hilvar, 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 all the animals that were constantly escaping, to the annoyance or alarm of Hilvar’s friends. And he recalled—how long ago that seemed!—the zoological purpose behind their expedition to Shalmirane.
Hilvar had found a new pet.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
HOW COMPLETELY UNTHINKABLE, Jeserac mused, this conference would have seemed only a few short days ago. The six visitors from Lys sat facing the Council, along a table placed across the open end of the horseshoe. It was ironic to remember that not long ago Alvin had stood at that same spot and heard the Council rule that Diaspar must be closed again from the world. Now the world had broken in upon it with a vengeance—and not only the world, but the universe.
The Council itself had already changed. No less than five of its members were missing.