"No," he said slowly, "it wasn't the only reason, though I did not know until now. I was lonely."

             "Lonely? In Diaspar?"

             "Yes," said Alvin. "I am the only child to be born there for seven thousand years."

             Those wonderful eyes were still upon him, and, looking into their depths, Alvin had the sudden conviction that Seranis could read his mind. Even as the thought came, he saw an expression of amused surprise pass across her face—and knew that his guess had been correct. Once both men and machines had possessed this power, and the unchanging machines could still read their masters' orders. But in Diaspar, Man himself had lost the gift he had given to his slaves.

             Rather quickly, Seranis broke into his thoughts.

             "If you are looking for life," she said, "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 onlv reaction was one of sadness that all his teaching had been so nearly true.

             "Tell me something about Lys," he asked. "Why have you been cut off from Diaspar for so long, when you know all about us?"

             Seranis smiled at his question.

             "It's not easy to answer that in a few words, but I'll do my best.

             "Because you have lived in Diaspar all your life, you have come to think of Man as a city dweller. That isn't true, Alvin. Since the machines gave us freedom, there has always been a rivalry between two different types of civilization. In the Dawn Ages there were thousands of cities, but a large part of mankind lived in communities like this village of ours.

             "We have no records of the founding of Lys, but we know that our remote ancestors disHked city Hfe intensely and would have nothing to do with it. In spite of swift and universal transport, they kept themselves largely apart from the rest of the world and developed an independent culture which was one of the highest the race had ever known.

             "Through the ages, as we advanced along our different roads, the gulf between Lys and the cities widened. It was bridged only in times of great crisis: we know that when the Moon was falling, its destruction was planned and carried out by the scientists of Lys. So too was the defense of Earth against the Invaders, whom we held at the Battle of Shalmirane.

             "That 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 passed us by, but we had our own battle to fight—the battle against the desert. The natural barrier of the mountains was not enough, and many thousands of years passed before we had made our land secure. Far beneath Lys are machines which will give us water as long as the world remains, for the old oceans are still there, miles down in the Earth's crust.

             "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. Four hundred million years ago that was closed by mutual agreement. But we have remembered Diaspar, and I do not know why you have forgotten Lys."

             Seranis smiled, a little wryly.

             "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 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 all been outstanding men."

             Alvin wondered how Seranis could be so sure of her facts, and he did not approve of her attitude toward Diaspar. He had hardly "escaped"—yet, after all, the word was not altogether inaccurate.

             Somewhere a great bell vibrated with a throbbing boom that ebbed and died in the still air. Six times it struck, and as the last note faded into silence Alvin realized that the sun was low on the horizon and the eastern sky already held a hint of night.

             "I must return to Diaspar," he said. "Rorden is expecting me."

6

             Seranis looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. Then she rose to her feet and walked toward the stairway.

             "Please wait a little while," she said. "I have some business to settle, and Theon, I know, has many questions to ask you."

             Then she was gone, and for the next few minutes Theon's barrage of questions drove any other thoughts from his mind. Theon had heard of Diaspar, and had seen records of the cities as they were at the height of their glory, but he could not imagine how their inhabitants had passed their lives. Alvin was amused at many of his questions—until he realized that his own ignorance of Lys was even greater.

             Seranis was gone for many minutes, but her expression revealed nothing when she returned.

             "We have been talking about you," she said—not explaining who "we" might be: "If you return to Diaspar, the whole city will know about us. Whatever promises you make, the secret could not be kept."

             A feeling of slight panic began to creep over Alvin. Seranis must have known his thoughts, for her next words were more reassuring.

             "We don't wish to keep you here against your wishes, but if you return to Diaspar we will have to erase all memories of Lys from

             your mind." She hesitated for a moment. "This has never arisen before: all your predecessors came here to stay."

             Alvin was thinking deeply.

             "Why should it matter," he said, "if Diaspar does learn about you again? Surely it would be a good thing for both our peoples?"

             Seranis looked displeased.

             "We don't think so," she said. "If the gates were opened, our land would be flooded with sensation-seekers and the idly curious. As things are now, only the best of your people have ever reached us."

             Alvin felt himself becoming steadily more annoyed, but he realized that Seranis' attitude was quite unconscious.

             "That isn't true," he said flatly. "Very few of us would ever leave Diaspar. If you let me return, it would make no difi^erence to Lys."

             "The decision is not in my hands," replied Seranis, "but I will put it to the Council when it meets three days from now. Until then, you can remain as my guest, and Theon will show you our country."

             "I would like to do that," said Alvin, "but Rorden will be waiting for me. He knows where I am, and if I don't come back at once anything may happen."

             Seranis smiled slightly.

             "We have given that a good deal of thought," she admitted. "There are men working on the problem now—we will see if they have been successful."