Using selected switches the Director of the Outer Stations switched on the Vector of Friendship, a system of direct communication between people linked by the ties of profound friendship that enabled them to contact each other at any moment. The Vector of Friendship was connected with a number of places where the person concerned was likely to be — his house, his place of work, his favourite recreation centre.

The screen grew light and in the depths there appeared familiar panels with columns of coded titles of electronic films that had succeeded the ancient photocopies of books.

When all mankind adopted a single alphabet — it was called the linear alphabet because there were no complicated signs in it — it became easy to film even the old books, so that eventually the process was fully mechanized. The blue, green and red stripes were the symbols of the central film libraries where scientific research works were stored, works that had for centuries been published only in a dozen copies. It was merely necessary to select the a code number and symbols and the film library would transmit, automatically, the full text of the book. This machine was Veda’s private library. A snap of switches and the picture faded, it was followed by another room which was also empty. Another switch connected the screen with a hall in which stood a number of dimly lighted desks. The woman seated at the nearest desk raised her head and Darr Veter recognized the thick, widely separated eyebrows and the sweet, narrow face with its grey eyes. As she smiled, white teeth flashed in a big mouth with bold lines and her cheeks were chubbily rounded on either side of a slightly snub nose with a childish, round tip to it that made the face gentle and kindly.

“Veda, there are two hours left. You have to change and I would like you to come to the observatory a little before time.”

The woman on the screen raised her hands to her thick, ash-blonde hair.

“I obey, my Veter,” she smiled. “I’m going home.” Veter’s ear was not deceived by the gayness of her tones.

“Brave Veda, calm yourself. Everybody who speaks to the Great Circle had to make a first appearance.”

“Don’t waste words consoling me,” said Veda Kong, raising her head with a stubborn gesture. “I’ll be there soon.

The screen went dark. Darr Veter closed the shutters and turned to meet his successor. Mven Mass entered the room with long strides. The cast of his features and his smooth, dark-brown skin showed that he was descended from African ancestors. A white mantle fell from his powerful shoulders in heavy folds. Mven Mass took both Darr Veter’s hands in his strong, thin ones. The two Directors of the Outer Stations, the new and the old, were both very tall. Veter, whose genealogy led back to the Russian people, seemed broader and more massive than the graceful African.

“It seems to me that something important ought to happen today,” began Mven Mass, with that trusting sincerity that was typical of the people who lived in the Era of the Great Circle. Darr Veter shrugged his shoulders.

‘‘Important things will happen for three people. I am handing over my work, you are taking it from me and Veda Kong will speak to the Universe for the first time.”

“She is beautiful?” responded Mven Mass, half questioning, half affirming.

“You’ll see her. By the way, there’s nothing special about today’s transmission. Veda will give a lecture on our history for planet KRZ 664456 + BS 3252.”

Mven Mass made an astonishingly rapid mental calculation.

“Constellation of the Unicorn, star Ross 614, its planetary system has been known from time immemorial but has never in any way distinguished itself. I love the old names and old words,” he added with a scarcely detectable note of apology.

“The Council knows how to select people,” Darr Veter thought to himself. Aloud he said:

“Then you’ll get on well with Junius Antus, the Director of the Electronic Memory Machines. He calls himself the Director of the Memory Lamps. He is not thinking of the lamps they used for light in ancient days but of those first electronic devices in clumsy glass envelopes with the air pumped out of them; they looked just like the electric lamps of those days.”

Mven Mass laughed so heartily and frankly that Darr Veter could feel his liking for the man growing fast.

“Memory lamps! Our memory network consists of kilometres of corridors furnished with billions of cell elements.” He suddenly checked himself. “I’m letting my feeling run away with me and haven’t yet found out essential things. When did Ross 614 first speak?”

“Fifty-two years ago. Since then they have mastered the language of the Great Circle. They are only four par-sees away from us. They will get Veda’s lecture in thirteen years’ time.”

“And then?”

“After the lecture we shall go over to reception. We shall get some news from the Great Circle through our old friends.”

“Through 61 Cygni?”

“Of course. Sometimes we get contact through 107 Ophiuchi, to use the old terminology.”

A man in the same silvery uniform of the Astronautical Council as that worn by Veter’s assistant entered the room. He was of medium height, sprightly and aquiline-nosed; people liked him for the keenly attentive glance of his jet-black eyes. The newcomer stroked his hairless head.

“I’m Junius Antus,” he said, apparently to Mven Mass. The African greeted him respectfully. The Directors of the Memory Machines exceeded everybody else in erudition. They decided what had to be perpetuated by the machines and what would be sent out as general information or used by the Palaces of Creative Effort.

“Another brevus,” muttered Junius Antus, shaking hands with his new acquaintance.

“What’s that?” inquired Mven Mass. “A Latin appellation I have thought up. I give that name to all those who do not live long — vita breva, you know — workers on the Outer Stations, pilots of the Interstellar Space Fleet, technicians at the spaceship engine plants…. And… er… you and I. We do not live more than half the allotted span, either. What can one do, it’s more interesting. Where’s Veda?”

“She intended coming earlier,” began Darr Veter. His words were drowned by disturbing chords of music that followed a loud click on the dial of the galactic clock.

“Warning for all Earth. All power stations, all factories, transport and radiostations! In half an hour from now cease the output of all energy and accumulate it in high-capacity condensers till there is enough for a radiation channel to penetrate the atmosphere. The transmission will take 43 per cent of Earth’s power resources. The reception will need only 8 per cent for the maintenance of the channel,” explained Darr Veter.

“That’s just as I imagined it would be,” said Mven Mass, nodding his head. Suddenly his glance became fixed and his face glowed with admiration. Darr Veter looked round. Unobserved by them Veda Kong had arrived and was standing beside a luminescent column. For her lecture she had donned the costume that adds mostly to the beauty of women, a costume invented thousands of years before at the time of the Cretan Civilization. The heavy knot of ash-blonde hair piled high on the back of her head did not detract from her strong and graceful neck. Her smooth shoulders were bare and the bosom was open and supported by a corsage of cloth of gold. A wide, short silver skirt embroidered with blue flowers, exposed bare, sun-tanned legs in slippers of cherry-coloured silk. Big cherry-coloured stones brought from Venus, set with careful crudeness in a gold chain, were like balls of fire on her soft skin and matched cheeks and tiny ears that were flaming with excitement.

Mven Mass met the learned historian for the first time and he gazed at her in frank admiration. Veda lifted her troubled eyes to Darr Veter. “Very nice,” he said in answer to his friend’s unspoken question.