The City And The Stars - Arthur C. Clarke [105]
Jeserac had been co-opted to fill one of the vacant places on the Council. Though he was under something of a cloud, owing to his position as Alvin’s tutor, his presence was so obviously essential that no one had suggested excluding him. He sat at one end of the horseshoe-shaped table—a position which gave him several advantages. Not only could he study the profiles of the visitors, but he could also see the faces of his fellow-councillors—and their expressions were sufficiently instructive.
There was no doubt that Alvin had been right, and the Council was slowly realising the unpalatable truth. The delegates from Lys could think far more swiftly than the finest minds in Diaspar. Nor was that their only advantage, for they also showed an extraordinary degree of co-ordination which Jeserac guessed must be due to their telepathic powers. He wondered if they were reading the Councillors’ thoughts, but decided that they would not have broken the solemn assurance without which this meeting would have been impossible.
Jeserac did not think that much progress had been made; for that matter, he did not see how it could be. The Council, which had barely accepted the existence of Lys, still seemed incapable of realising what had happened. But it was clearly frightened—and so, he guessed, were the visitors, though they managed to conceal the fact better.
Jeserac himself was not as terrified as he had expected; his fears were still there, but he had faced them at last. Something of Alvin’s own recklessness—or was it courage?—had begun to change his outlook and give him new horizons. He did not believe he would ever be able to set foot beyond the walls of Diaspar, but now he understood the impulse that had driven Alvin to do so.
The President’s question caught him unawares, but he recovered himself quickly.
‘I think,’ he said, ‘that it was sheer chance that this situation never arose before. We know that there were fourteen earlier Uniques, and there must have been some definite plan behind their creation. That plan, I believe, was to ensure that Lys and Diaspar would not remain apart for ever. Alvin has seen to that, but he has also done something which I do not imagine was ever in the original scheme. Could the Central Computer confirm that?’
The impersonal voice replied at once.
‘The Councillor knows that I cannot comment on the instructions given to me by my designers.’
Jeserac accepted the mild reproof.
‘Whatever the cause, we cannot dispute the facts. Alvin has gone out into space. When he returns, you may prevent him leaving again—though I doubt if you will succeed, for he may have learnt a great deal by then. And if what you fear has happened, there is nothing any of us can do about it. Earth is utterly helpless—as she has been for millions of centuries.’
Jeserac paused and glanced along the tables. His words had pleased no one, nor had he expected them to do so.
‘Yet I don’t see why we should be alarmed. Earth is in no greater danger now than she has always been. Why should two men in a single small ship bring the wrath of the Invaders down upon us again? If we’ll be honest with ourselves, we must admit that the Invaders could have destroyed our world ages ago.’
There was a disapproving silence. This was heresy—and once Jeserac himself would have condemned it as such.
The President interrupted, frowning heavily.
‘Is there not a legend that the Invaders spared Earth itself only on condition that Man never went into space again? And have we not now broken those conditions?’
‘A legend, yes,’ said Jeserac. ‘We accept