The City And The Stars - Arthur C. Clarke [82]
As he took leave of the Council, he wondered if they were surprised at his quiet acquiescence, his lack of indignation at the closing of the path to Lys. The proctors did not accompany him; he was no longer under observation, at least in so open a manner. Only Jeserac followed him out of the Council Chamber and into the coloured, crowded streets.
‘Well, Alvin,’ he said. ‘You were on your best behaviour, but you cannot deceive me. What are you planning?’
Alvin smiled.
‘I knew that you would suspect something; if you will come with me, I will show you why the subway to Lys is no longer important. And there is another experiment I want to try; it will not harm you, but you may not like it.’
‘Very well. I am still supposed to be your tutor, but it seems that the roles are now reversed. Where are you taking me?’
‘We are going to the Tower of Loranne, and I am going to show you the world outside Diaspar.’
Jeserac paled, but he stood his ground. Then, as if not trusting himself with words, he gave a stiff little nod and followed Alvin out on to the smoothly gliding surface of the moving way.
Jeserac showed no fear as they walked along the tunnel through which that cold wind blew for ever into Diaspar. The tunnel had changed now; the stone grille which had blocked access to the outer world had gone. It served no structural purpose, and the Central Computer had removed it without comment at Alvin’s request. Later, it might instruct the Monitors to remember the grille again, and bring it back into existence. But for the moment the tunnel gaped unfenced and unguarded in the sheer outer wall of the city.
Not until Jeserac had almost reached the end of the air-shaft did he realise that the outer world was now upon him. He looked at the widening circle of sky, and his steps became more and more uncertain until they finally slowed to a halt. Alvin remembered how Alystra had turned and fled from this same spot, and he wondered if he could induce Jeserac to go any further.
‘I am only asking you to look,’ he begged, ‘not to leave the city. Surely you can manage to do that!’
In Airlee, during his brief stay, Alvin had seen a mother teaching her child to walk. He was irresistibly reminded of this as he coaxed Jeserac along the corridor, making encouraging remarks as his tutor advanced foot by reluctant foot. Jeserac, unlike Khedron, was no coward. He was prepared to fight against his compulsion, but it was a desperate struggle. Alvin was almost as exhausted as the older man by the time he had succeeded in getting Jeserac to a point where he could see the whole, uninterrupted sweep of the desert.
Once there, the interest and strange beauty of the scene, so alien to all that Jeserac had ever known in this or any previous existence, seemed to overcome his fears. He was clearly fascinated by the immense vista of the rolling sand-dunes and the far-off, ancient hills. It was late afternoon, and in a little while all this land would be visited by the night that never came to Diaspar.
‘I asked you to come here,’ said Alvin, speaking quickly as if he could hardly control his impatience, ‘because I realise that you have earned more right than anyone to see where my travels have led me. I wanted you to see the desert, and I also want you to be a witness, so that the Council will know what I have done.
‘As I told the Council, I brought this robot from Lys in the hope that the Central Computer would be able to break the block that had been imposed on its memories by the man known as the Master. By a trick which I still don’t fully understand, the Computer did that. Now I have access to all the memories in this machine, as well as to the special skills that had been designed into it. I’m going to use one of those skills now. Watch.’
On a soundless order which Jeserac could only guess, the robot floated out of the tunnel entrance, picked up speed, and within seconds was no more than a distant metallic gleam in the sunlight. It was flying low over the