The City And The Stars - Arthur C. Clarke [43]
‘I do not know what brought you from your world to ours,’ continued Seranis, ‘but if you are looking for life, your search has ended. Apart from Diaspar, there is only desert beyond our mountains.’
It was strange that Alvin, who had questioned accepted beliefs so often before, did not doubt the words of Seranis. His only action was one of sadness that all his teaching had been so nearly true.
‘Tell me about Lys,’ he begged. ‘Why have you been cut off from Diaspar for so long, when you seem to know so much about us?’
Seranis smiled at his eagerness.
‘Presently,’ she said. ‘But first I would like to know something about you. Tell me how you found the way here, and why you came.’
Haltingly at first, and then with growing confidence, Alvin told his story. He had never spoken with such freedom before; here at last was someone who would not laugh at his dreams, because they knew those dreams were true. Once or twice Seranis interrupted him with swift questions when he mentioned some aspect of Diaspar which was unfamiliar to her. It was hard for Alvin to realise that things which were part of his everyday life would be meaningless to someone who had never lived in the city and knew nothing of its complex culture and social organisation. Seranis listened with such understanding that he took her comprehension for granted; not until later did he realise that many other minds besides hers were listening to his words.
When he had finished, there was silence for a while. Then Seranis looked at him and said quickly: ‘Why did you come to Lys?’
Alvin glanced at her in surprise.
‘I’ve told you,’ he said. ‘I wanted to explore the world. Everyone told me that there was only desert beyond the city, but I had to see for myself.’
‘And that was the only reason?’
Alvin hesitated. When at last he answered, it was not the indomitable explorer who spoke, but the lost child who had been born into an alien world.
‘No,’ he said slowly, ‘that wasn’t the only reason—though I did not know it until now, I was lonely.’
‘Lonely? In Diaspar?’ There was a smile on the lips of Seranis, but sympathy in her eyes, and Alvin knew that she expected no further answer.
Now that he had told his story, he waited for her to keep her share of the bargain. Presently, Seranis rose to her feet, and began to pace to and fro on the roof.
‘I know the questions you wish to ask,’ she said. ‘Some of them I can answer, but it would be wearisome to do it in words. If you will open your mind to me, I will tell you what you need to know. You can trust me: I will take nothing from you without your permission.’
‘What do you want me to do?’ said Alvin cautiously.
‘Will yourself to accept my help—look at my eyes—and forget everything,’ commanded Seranis.
Alvin was never sure what happened then. There was a total eclipse of all his senses, and though he could never remember acquiring it, when he looked into his mind the knowledge was there.
He saw back into the past, not clearly, but as a man on some high mountain might look out across a misty plain. He understood that Man had not always been a city dweller, and that since the machines gave him freedom from toil there had always been a rivalry between two different types of civilisation. In the Dawn Ages there had been thousands of cities, but a large part of mankind had preferred to live in relatively small communities. Universal transport and instantaneous communications had given them all the contact they required with the rest of the world, and they felt no need to live huddled together with millions of their fellows.
Lys had been little different in the early days, from hundreds of other communities. But gradually, over the ages, it developed an independent culture which was one of the highest that mankind had ever known. It was a culture based largely upon the direct use of mental power, and this set it apart