The City And The Stars - Arthur C. Clarke [116]
The fear was not strong enough to paralyse his will. In part of his mind, Jeserac knew that this whole experience was a dream, and a dream could not harm him, until he woke once more in the city that he knew.
He was walking into the heart of Diaspar, towards the point where in his own age stood the Tomb of Yarlan Zey. There was no tomb here, in this ancient city—only a low, circular building with many arched doorways leading into it. By one of those doorways a man was waiting for him.
Jeserac should have been overcome with astonishment, but nothing could surprise him now. Somehow it seemed right and natural that he should now be face to face with the man who had built Diaspar.
‘You recognise me, I imagine,’ said Yarlan Zey.
‘Of course; I have seen your statue a thousand times. You are Yarlan Zey, and this is Diaspar as it was a billion years ago. I know I am dreaming, and that neither of us is really here.’
‘Then you need not be alarmed at anything that happens. So follow me, and remember that nothing can harm you, since whenever you wish you can wake up in Diaspar—in your own age.’
Obediently, Jeserac followed Yarlan Zey into the building, his mind a receptive, uncritical sponge. Some memory, or echo of a memory, warned him of what was going to happen next, and he knew that once he would have shrunk from it in horror. Now, however, he felt no fear. Not only did he feel protected by the knowledge that this experience was not real, but the presence of Yarlan Zey seemed a talisman against any dangers that might confront him.
There were few people drifting down the glide-ways that led into the depths of the building, and they had no other company when presently they stood in silence beside the long, streamlined cylinder which, Jeserac knew, could carry him out of the city on a journey that would once have shattered his mind. When his guide pointed to the open door, he paused for no more than a moment on the threshold, and then was through.
‘You see?’ said Yarlan Zey with a smile. ‘Now relax, and remember that you are safe—that nothing can touch you.’
Jeserac believed him. He felt only the faintest tremor of apprehension as the tunnel entrance slid silently towards him, and the machine in which he was travelling began to gain speed as it hurtled through the depths of the earth. Whatever fears he might have had were forgotten in his eagerness to talk with this almost mythical figure from the past.
‘Does it not seem strange to you,’ began Yarlan Zey, ‘that though the skies are open to us, we have tried to bury ourselves in the Earth? It is the beginning of the sickness whose ending you have seen in your age. Humanity is trying to hide; it is frightened of what lies out there in space, and soon it will have closed all the doors that lead into the Universe.’
‘But I saw spaceships in the sky above Diaspar,’ said Jeserac.
‘You will not see them much longer. We have lost contact with the stars, and soon even the planets will be deserted. It took us millions of years to make the outward journey—but only centuries to come home again. And in a little while we will have abandoned almost all of Earth itself.’
‘Why did you do it?’ asked Jeserac. He knew the answer, yet somehow felt impelled to ask the question.
‘We needed a shelter to protect us from two fears—fear of Death, and fear of Space. We were a sick people and wanted no further part in the Universe—so we pretended that it did not exist. We had seen chaos raging through the stars, and yearned for peace and stability. Therefore Diaspar had to be closed, so that nothing new could ever enter it.
‘We designed the city that you know, and invented a false past