The City And The Stars - Arthur C. Clarke [44]
Through the aeons, as they advanced along their different roads, the gulf between Lys and the cities widened. It was bridged only in times of great crisis; when the Moon was falling, its destruction was carried out by the scientists of Lys. So also was the defence of Earth against the Invaders, who were held at bay in the final battle of Shalmirane.
The great ordeal exhausted mankind; one by one the cities died and the desert rolled over them. As the population fell, humanity began the migration which was to make Diaspar the last and greatest of all cities.
Most of these changes did not affect Lys, but it had its own battle to fight—the battle against the desert. The natural barrier of the mountains was not enough, and many ages passed before the great oasis was made secure. The picture was blurred here, perhaps deliberately. Alvin could not see what had been done to give Lys the virtual eternity that Diaspar had achieved.
The voice of Seranis seemed to come to him from a great distance—yet it was not her voice alone, for it was merged into a symphony of words, as though many other tongues were chanting in unison with hers.
‘That, very briefly, is our history. You will see that even in the Dawn Ages we had little to do with the cities, though their people often came into our land. We never hindered them, for many of our greatest men came from Outside, but when the cities were dying we did not wish to be involved in their downfall. With the ending of air transport, there was only one way into Lys—the carrier system from Diaspar. It was closed at your end, when the Park was built—and you forgot us, though we have never forgotten you.
‘Diaspar has surprised us. We expected it to go the way of all other cities, but instead it has achieved a stable culture that may last as long as Earth. It is not a culture that we admire, yet we are glad that those who wish to escape have been able to do so. More than you might think have made the journey, and they have almost always been outstanding men who brought something of value with them when they came to Lys.’
The voice faded; the paralysis of Alvin’s senses ebbed away and he was himself again. He saw with astonishment that the sun had fallen far below the trees and that the eastern sky already held a hint of night. Somewhere a great bell vibrated with a throbbing boom that pulsed slowly into silence, leaving the air tense with mystery and premonition. Alvin found himself trembling slightly, not with the first touch of the evening’s chill, but through sheer awe and wonder at all that he had learned. It was very late, and he was far from home. He had a sudden need to see his friends again, and to be among the familiar sights and scenes of Diaspar.
‘I must return,’ he said. ‘Khedron—my parents—they will be expecting me.’
That was not wholly true; Khedron would certainly be wondering what had happened to him, but as far as Alvin was aware no one else knew that he had left Diaspar. He could not have explained the reason for this mild deceit, and was slightly ashamed of himself immediately he had uttered the words.
Seranis looked at him thoughtfully.
‘I am afraid it is not as easy as that,’ she said.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Alvin, ‘won’t the carrier that brought me here take me back again?’ He still refused to face the fact that he might be held in Lys against his will, though the idea had briefly crossed his mind.
For the first time, Seranis seemed slightly ill at ease.
‘We have been talking about you,’ she said—not explaining who the ‘we’ might be, nor exactly how they had consulted together. ‘If you return to Diaspar, the whole city will know about us. Even if you promised to say nothing you would find it impossible to keep our secret.’
‘Why should you wish it kept?’ asked Alvin. ‘Surely it would be a good thing for both our peoples if they could meet again.’
Seranis looked displeased.
‘We do not think so,’ she said. ‘If the gates were opened, our land would be flooded with the idly curious