Again their tiny thoughts struggled up into his consciousness.

             "Who were the Great Ones—are you one of them yourself?"

             He did not know: they could scarcely believe him, and their disappointment came sharp and clear across the abyss separating their minds from his. But they were patient and he was glad to help them, for their quest was the same as his and they gave him the first companionship he had ever known.

             As long as he lived, Alvin did not believe he would ever again undergo so strange an experience as this soundless conversation. It was hard to believe that he could be little more than a spectator, for he did not care to admit, even to himself, that Theon's mind was so much more powerful than his own. He could only wait and wonder, half dazed by the torrent of thought just beyond the limits of his understanding.

             Presently Theon, rather pale and strained, broke off the contact and turned to his friend.

             "Alvin," he said, his voice very tired, "there's something strange here. I don't understand it at all."

             The news did a little to restore Alvin's self-esteem, and his face must have shown his feelings, for Theon gave a sudden, not unsympathetic laugh.

             "I can't discover what this—Vanamonde—is," he continued. "It's a creature of tremendous knowledge, but it seems to have very httle intelhgence. Of course," he added, "its mind may be of such a different order that we can't understand it—yet somehow I don't beheve that is the right explanation."

             "Well, what have you learned?" asked Alvin with some impatience. "Does it know anything about this place?"

             Theon's mind still seemed very far away.

             "This city was built by many races, including our own," he said absently. "It can give me facts like that, but it doesn't seem to understand their meaning. I believe it's conscious of the past, without being able to interpret it. Everything that's ever happened seems jumbled together in its mind."

             He paused thoughtfully for a moment: then his face lightened.

             "There's only one thing to do: somehow or other, we must get Vanamonde to Earth so that our philosophers can study him."

             "Would that be safe?" asked Alvin.

             "Yes," answered Theon, thinking how uncharacteristic his friend's remark was. "Vanamonde is friendly. More than that, in fact—he seems almost affectionate."

             And quite suddenly the thought that all the while had been hovering at the edge of Alvin's consciousness came clearly into view. He remembered Krif and the small animals that were constantly escaping ("It won't happen again. Mother") to annoy Seranis. And he recalled—how long ago that seemed!—the zoological purpose behind their expedition to Shalmirane.

             Theon had found a new pet.

17

             They landed at noon in the glade of Airlee, with no thought of concealment now. Alvin wondered if ever in human history any ship had brought such a cargo to Earth—if indeed Vanamonde was located in the physical space of the machine. There had been no sign of him on the voyage: Theon believed, and his knowledge was more direct, that only Vanamonde's sphere of attention could be said to have any location in space.

             As they left the ship the doors closed softly behind them and a sudden wind tugged at their clothes. Then the machine was only a silver dot falling into the sky, returning to the world where it belonged until Alvin should need it again.

             Seranis was waiting for them as Theon had known and Alvin had half expected. She looked at the boys in silence for a while, then said quietly to Alvin:

             "You're making life rather complicated for us, aren't you?"

             There was no rancor in the words, only a half-humorous resignation and even a dawning approval.

             Alvin sensed her meaning at once.

             "Then Vanamonde's arrived?"

             "Yes, hours ago. Since dawn we have learned more of history than we knew existed."

             Alvin looked at her in amazement. Then he understood: it was not hard to imagine what the impact of Vanamonde must have been upon this people, with their keen perceptions and their wonderfully interlocking minds. They had reacted with surprising speed, and he had a sudden incongruous picture of Vanamonde, perhaps a little frightened, surrounded by the eager intellects of Lys.

             "Have you discovered what he is?" Alvin asked.

             "Yes. That was simple, though we still don't know his origin. He's a pure mentality and his knowledge seems to be unlimited. But he's childish, and I mean that quite literally."

             "Of course!" cried Theon. "I should have guessed!"

             Alvin looked puzzled and Seranis took pity on him.

             "I mean that although Vanamonde has a colossal, perhaps an infinite, mind, he's immature and undeveloped. His actual intelligence is less than that of a human being"—she smiled a little wryly—"though his thought processes are much faster and he learns very quickly. He also has some powers we do not yet understand. The whole of the past seems open to his mind, in a way that's difficult to describe. He must have used that ability to follow your path back to Earth."

             Alvin stood in silence, for once somewhat overcome. He realized how right Theon had been to bring Vanamonde to Lys. And he knew how lucky he had been ever to outwit Seranis: that was not something he would do twice in a lifetime.

             "Do you mean," he asked, "that Vanamonde has only just been born?"

             "By his standards, yes. His actual age is very great, though apparently less than Man's. The extraordinary thing is that he insists that ive created him, and there's no doubt that his origin is bound up with all the great mysteries of the past."

             "What's happening to Vanamonde now?" asked Theon in a slightly possessive voice.

             "The historians of Grevarn are questioning him. They are trying to map out the main outlines of the past, but the work will take years. Vanamonde can describe the past in perfect detail, but since he doesn't understand what he sees it's very difficult to work with him."

             Alvin wondered how Seranis knew all this: then he realized that probably every waking mind in Lys was watching the progress of the great research.

             "Rorden should be here," he said, coming to a sudden decision. "I'm going to Diaspar to fetch him."

             ''And Jeserac," he added, in a determined afterthought.

             Rorden had never seen a whirlwind, but if one had hit him the experience would have felt perfectly familiar. There were times when his sense of reality ceased to function, and the feeling that everything was a dream became almost overwhelming. This was such a moment now.

             He closed his eyes and tried to recall the familiar room in Diaspar which had once been both a part of his personality and a barrier against the outer world. What would he have thought, he wondered, could he have looked into the future when he had first met Alvin and seen the outcome of that encounter? But of one thing he was sure and a little proud: he would not have turned aside.

             The boat was moving slowly across the lake with a gentle rocking motion that Rorden found rather pleasant. Why the village of Gre-varn had been built on an island he could not imagine: it seemed a most inconvenient arrangement. It was true that the colored houses, which seemed to float at anchor upon the tiny waves, made a scene of almost unreal beauty. That was all very well, thought Rorden, but one couldn't spend the whole of one's life staring at scenery. Then he remembered that this was precisely what many of these eccentric people did.