The Foundations of Paradise - Arthur C. Clarke [32]
It seemed almost solid in its rectilinear perfection, like some overturned pyramid rather than a mere phantom of light and shade. As the brightness grew around it, and the first direct rays of the sun struck past the flanks of the mountain, it appeared by contrast to grow even darker and denser. Yet through the thin veil of cloud responsible for its brief existence, Morgan could dimly discern the lakes and hills and forests of the awakening land.
The apex of that misty triangle must be racing toward him at enormous speed as the sun rose vertically behind the mountain, but Morgan was conscious of no movement. Time seemed to have been suspended; this was one of the rare moments of his life when he gave no thought to the passing minutes. The shadow of eternity lay upon his soul, as did that of the mountain upon the clouds.
Now it was fading swiftly, the darkness draining from the sky like a stain dispersing in water. The ghostly, glimmering landscape below was hardening into reality. Halfway to the horizon, there was an explosion of light as the sun’s rays struck upon some building’s eastern windows. And beyond that—unless his eyes had tricked him—Morgan could make out the faint, dark band of the encircling sea.
Another day had come to Taprobane.
* * *
Slowly, the visitors dispersed. Some returned to the cable-car terminus, while others, more energetic, headed for the stairway, in the mistaken belief that the descent was easier than the climb. Most of them would be thankful enough to catch the car again at the lower station; few indeed would make it all the way down.
Only Morgan continued upward, followed by many curious glances, along the short flight of steps that led to the monastery and to the very summit of the mountain. By the time he had reached the smoothly plastered outer wall—now beginning to glow softly in the first direct rays of the sun—he was short of breath, and was glad to lean for a moment against the massive wooden door.
Someone must have been watching. Before he could find a bell push or signal his presence in any way, the door swung silently open, and he was welcomed by a yellow-robed monk, who saluted him with clasped hands.
“Ayu bowan, Dr. Morgan. The Mahanayake Thero will be glad to see you.”
14
The Education of Starglider
Extract from Starglider Summaries, First Edition, 2071:
“We now know that the interstellar spaceprobe generally referred to as Starglider is completely autonomous, operating according to general instructions programmed into it sixty thousand years ago. While it is cruising between suns, it uses its five-hundred-kilometer antenna to send information back to its base at a relatively slow rate, and to receive occasional updates from Starholme, to adopt the lovely name coined by the poet Llewellyn ap Cymru.
“While it is passing through a solar system, however, it is able to tap the energy of a sun, and so its rate of information transfer increases enormously. It also ‘recharges its batteries,’ to use a doubtless crude analogy. And because, like our own early Pioneers and Voyagers, it employs the gravitational fields of the heavenly bodies to deflect it from star to star, it will operate indefinitely unless mechanical failure or cosmic accident terminates its career.
“Centaurus was its eleventh port of call. After it had rounded our sun like a comet, its new course was aimed precisely at Tau Ceti, twelve light-years away. If there is anyone there, it will be ready to start its next conversation soon after A.D. 8100. . . .
“Starglider combines the functions of both ambassador and explorer. When, at the end of one of its millennial journeys, it discovers a technological culture, it makes friends with the natives and starts to trade information, in the only form of interstellar commerce that may ever be possible. Before it departs again on its endless voyage, after its brief transit of their solar system, Starglider gives the location of its home world—already awaiting a