and soon it grew bigger and bigger as it came quickly over the calm blue water towards her.
`Where are you, Lora?' Clyde's voice asked crossly from the wrist radio he had given her when she
agreed to marry him. `Come and help me − we've got a lot of fish to bring home.'
So! Lora thought; that's why he asked me to hurry down to the beach. To punish him a little, she
did not reply to his repeated calls on the radio, but when his boat arrived, she came out from the
shadows under the great trees and walked slowly down the beach to meet him.
Clyde jumped out, smiling, and gave Lora a big kiss. Together, they began to empty the boat of its
many kilos of fish. They were not true fish, of course; in the sea of this young planet it would be a
hundred million years before nature made real fish. But they were good enough to eat, and they were
called by the old names that the first colonists had brought with them from Earth.
Soon Clyde and Lora were driving the catch home, but they had made only half the short journey
when the simple, carefree world they had known all their young lives came suddenly to its end.
High above them, they heard a sound their world had not known for centuries − the thin scream of
a starship coming in from outer space, leaving a long white tail like smoke across the clear blue sky.
Clyde and Lora looked at each other in wonder. After three hundred years of silence, Earth had
reached out once more to touch Thalassa . . .
Why? Lora asked herself. What had happened, after all these years, to bring a starship from Earth
to this quiet, peaceful world? There was no room for more colonists here on Thalassa, and Earth knew
that well enough. It was a young planet − still only a single large island in a huge, encircling sea. In time
new land would rise up out of the sea, but not for many millions of years.
When the first colonists came to Thalassa, they had worked hard to make a new life − making
farms and growing food, building towns and factories. In later years, with rich farming land and seas
full of fish, the colonists' descendants enjoyed an easy, comfortable life. They worked as much as
necessary (but no more), happy to dream fondly of Earth, and to let the future take care of itself.
When Lora and Clyde arrived back at the village, there was great excitement. The starship, people
said, seemed to be coming in to land, and it would probably come down in the hills where the first
colonists had landed.
Soon everybody who could find a bicycle or a car was moving out of the village on the road to the
west. Lora's father, who was the Mayor of Palm Bay village with its 572 people, proudly led the way,
silently repeating to himself suitable words of welcome for the visitors.
The ship came in silently, with no sound of engines, and landed softly on the green grass. It looked,
thought Lora, like a great silver egg, waiting to bring something new and strange into the peaceful world
of Thalassa.
`It's so small!' someone whispered behind her. `Did they come from Earth in that thing?'
`Of course not,' someone whispered back. `That's only a little space bus. The real starship's up
there in space−'
`Sshh! They're coming out!'
One moment the sides of the silver egg were smooth and unbroken; and then, a second later, there
was a round doorway, with steps coming down to the ground. Then the visitors appeared, shading their
eyes against the bright light of a new sun. There were seven of them − all men − tall and thin, with
white faces.
They came down to the ground and Lora's father stepped forward. Words of welcome were spoken,
hands were shaken, but Lora saw and heard none of it, because in that moment, she saw Leon for the
first time.
He came out of the ship a little after the other seven − a man with deep, dark eyes in a strong face,
eyes that had looked on sights that Lora could not even imagine. He was not handsome, and his face
looked serious, even worried, but Lora knew a feeling of both fear and wonder, a feeling that her life would never be the same again.
He looked around the crowd and saw Lora. Their eyes locked together, bridging time and space
and experience. The worry slowly disappeared from Leon's face; and presently, he smiled.
* * *
It was late evening by the time all the welcoming parties had finished. Leon was very tired, but he
could not sleep; his mind was still too busy with the problems of the starship. After the worry of the last
few weeks, when he and the other engineers had been woken by the scream of alarm bells and had
fought to save the wounded starship, it was hard to realize that they were safe at last. What luck that this
planet had been so close! Now they could probably repair the ship and complete the two centuries of
travelling that still lay before them. And if not, they would be able to find a new home here, among
people of their own kind.
The night was cool and calm, and the sky bright with unknown stars. Still too restless to sleep,
Leon left the simple resthouse that had been prepared for the visitors and walked out into the single
street of Palm Bay. The villagers all seemed to be in bed and asleep, which suited Leon, who wanted
only to be left alone until he felt ready to sleep.
In the quietness of the night he could hear the soft whisper of the sea, and he left the street and
turned his steps towards the beach. Soon he was under the dark shadows of trees, but the smaller of
Thalassa's two moons was high in the south and its thin yellow light was enough to show him the way.
He came out from the trees on to the beach and stood looking at the fishing boats along the water's edge.
For a moment he wished he was not a starship engineer, but could enjoy the simple, peaceful life of a
fisherman on this quiet planet.
He put the dream quickly out of his mind and began to walk along by the sea's edge, and as he
walked, Selene, the second moon, rose above the horizon, filling the beach with golden light.
And in that sudden brightness, Leon saw that he was not alone.
The girl was sitting on one of the boats, about fifty metres further along the beach, and staring out
to sea. Leon hesitated. She was probably waiting for someone; perhaps he should turn quietly back to
the village.
He had decided too late, because then the girl looked up and saw him. Unhurriedly, she rose to her
feet, and Leon walked slowly on towards her. He stopped a few metres away from her and smiled.
`Hello,' he said. `I was just taking a late walk − I hope I haven't frightened you.'
`Of course not,' Lora answered, trying to keep her voice calm and expressionless. She could not
really believe that she was doing this − meeting a complete stranger on a lonely beach at night. All day
she had been unable to put the young engineer out of her mind. She had found out his name, had
watched and planned, and hurried to the beach ahead of him when she saw him leave the resthouse and
walk towards the trees. Now she felt suddenly afraid, but it was too late to turn back.
Leon began to speak again, then stopped, suddenly recognizing her and realizing what she was
doing here. This was the girl who had smiled at him when he came out of the ship − no, that was not
right; he had smiled at her . . .
They stared at each other wordlessly, wondering what strange chance of time and space had
brought them together.
This is crazy, Leon told himself. What am I doing here? I should apologize and go − and leave this
girl to the peaceful world that she has always known.
But he did not leave. `What's your name?' he said. `I'm Lora,' she answered, in the soft voice of the
islanders.
`And I'm Leon Carrell, Assistant Rocket Engineer, Starship Magellan.'
She smiled a little and he saw at once that she already knew his name. Then she spoke again:
`How long do you think you will be here, on Thalassa?'
`I'm not sure,' he replied, truthfully enough. He could see that his answer was important to her. `It
depends how long it takes to do our repairs. We have to make a new starship shield, you see, as the old
one was destroyed when something big hit us out in space.'
`And you think you can make a new one here?'
`We hope so. The main problem is how to lift about a million tonnes of water up to the Magellan.'
`Water?' Lora looked puzzled. `I don't understand.'
`Well, you know that a starship travels through space at almost the speed of light. Unfortunately,
space is full of bits and pieces of rock and other things, and at that speed anything that hits us would
burn up the ship immediately. So we carry a shield about a kilometre ahead of us, and let that get burned
up instead.'
`And you can make a new one out of water?'
`Yes. It's the cheapest building material in the universe. We freeze it into a huge piece of ice that
travels ahead of us. What could be simpler than that?'
Lora did not answer, and seemed to be thinking of something else. Presently she said, a little sadly:
`And you left Earth a hundred years ago.'
`A hundred and four. It seems like only a few weeks because we were deep−sleeping until the
alarms woke us engineers. The ship is flown by automatic controls, of course, and all the other colonists
are still in suspended animation. They don't know that anything has happened.'
`And soon you'll join them again, and sleep your way on to the stars for another two hundred years.'
`That's right,' said Leon, not looking at her.
Lora looked round at the island behind them. `It's strange to think that your sleeping friends up
there will never know anything of all this. I feel sorry for them.'
`Yes, only we fifty engineers will remember Thalassa.' He looked at Lora's face and saw sadness in
her eyes. `Why does that make you unhappy?'
Lora shook her head, unable to answer. She felt a great loneliness, a horror at the huge emptiness
of space and that three−hundred−year journey through the emptiness. Suddenly she wanted to be at
home, in her own room, in the world she knew and understood. She wished she had never come on this
mad adventure − and she thought of Clyde, and felt ashamed.
`What's the matter?' asked Leon. `Are you cold?' He held out his hand to her and their fingers
touched, but she pulled her hand away at once.
`It's late,' she said, almost angrily. `I must go home. Goodbye.'
She turned and walked quickly away, leaving Leon staring after her, puzzled and a little hurt. What
had he said to annoy her? Then he called after her:
`Will I see you again?'
If she answered, the words were lost in the noise of the sea, but Leon knew, as surely as the sun
would rise tomorrow, that they would meet again.
* * * * * * * ** * *
in space. In the early morning and late evening, the Magellan could be seen as a bright star in the sky
above. And even when it could not be seen, people were thinking and talking about it. It was the most
exciting thing that had happened to Thalassa in centuries.
The starship's engineers seemed to be busy all the time, hurrying around the island, digging deep
holes in the ground to study the rocks, using strange scientific tools that the islanders had never seen
before. Most people, in fact, had no idea at all what the engineers were doing, and the engineers,
although friendly, had no time to explain.
It was two days before Lora spoke to Leon again. From time to time she saw him as he hurried
around the village, but they were only able to smile at each other in passing. But this was enough to make Lora's heart beat wildly, and to make her sharp and unfriendly with Clyde. She had been so sure
that she loved Clyde, and would marry him. Now she was not sure of anything, except her desperate,
burning wish to be with Leon every minute of the day. Why this had happened to her, she did not know.
She knew only that she had fallen in love with a man who had come into her life from nowhere, and
who must leave again in a few weeks.
By the end of the first day, only her family knew about her feelings; by the end of the second day,
everyone she passed gave her a knowing smile. It was impossible in a small place like Palm Bay to keep
anything secret.
Her second meeting with Leon was in the Mayor's office. Lora was helping her father with the
paperwork that the Earthmen's visit had caused when the door opened and Leon walked in, asking to see
the Mayor. Lora's younger sister hurried away to fetch him, and Leon sat tiredly down in a chair by the
door. Then he saw Lora watching him silently from the other side of the room, and jumped to his feet.
`Hello − I didn't know you worked here.'
`I live here. My father's the Mayor.'
Leon walked over to her desk and picked up a book that was lying there. He said something about
it and Lora replied politely, but there were unspoken questions in her mind. When can we meet again?
And does he really like me, or is he just making polite conversation?
Then the Mayor hurried in to see his visitor, who had brought a message from the starship's
captain. Lora pretended to work but she understood not one word of the papers she was reading.
When Leon had left, the Mayor walked over to his daughter and picked up some of the papers on
her desk.
`He seems a nice young man,' he said, `but is it a good idea to get too fond of him?'
`I don't know what you mean,' said Lora.
`Now, Lora! I am your father, and I do have eyes in my head, you know.'
`He's not' − and here Lora's voice shook a little − `a bit interested in me.'
`Are you interested in him?'
`I don't know. Oh, Daddy, I'm so unhappy!'
The Mayor was not a brave man, so there was only one thing he could do. He gave Lora his
handkerchief, and ran back into his office.
* * * * ** * *
everyone knew that. With another villager, or a man from any other part of Thalassa, Clyde knew
exactly what he would do. And because Clyde was a tall, strong young man, there had never been any
trouble at those other times when he had politely advised the man to leave his girl alone. But Leon was
an Earthman, an important visitor. It was not easy to offer that kind of advice to him, however politely.
During his long hours at sea, Clyde played with the idea of a short, sharp fight with Leon. But he
knew that he was stronger than the Earthman, so it wouldn't be a fair fight.
And anyway, was he really sure that he had a reason to fight Leon? It was true that Leon seemed to
be at the Mayor's house every time that Clyde called, but that could mean everything − or nothing.
Jealousy was new to Clyde, and he did not like it at all.
He was still very angry indeed about the dance. It had been the biggest, grandest party for years −
with the President of Thalassa, all the important people on the island, and fifty visitors from Earth, all at
the same time.
Clyde was a good dancer, but he had little chance to show it that night. Leon had been showing
everyone the latest dances from Earth (well, from a hundred years before, anyway) and in Clyde's
opinion the dances were ugly and Leon was an awful dancer. He had been foolish enough to tell Lora
that during one of their few dances together, and that had been his last dance with Lora that evening.
From that moment on Lora neither looked at nor spoke to him, and Clyde had soon gone off to the bar to
get drunk as quickly as possible. In this he was successful, and it was only the next morning that he
learnt what he had missed.
The dancing had ended early. Then the President introduced the captain of the starship, who, he
said, had a little surprise for everyone.
Captain Gold spoke for a short while first. He wanted, he said, to thank Thalassa for its warm
welcome to the visitors from Earth. He spoke of the peace and beauty of the island, and the kindness of
its people. He hoped that he and his companions would make the world that was waiting at the end of
their journey as happy a home for human beings as Thalassa was. Then he went on:
`Much has happened on Earth in the three centuries since the first colonists came to Thalassa, and
this is one way in which we can show our thanks to you. When we go, we can leave behind for you all
the information and scientific discoveries of those years, to enrich your world in the future. But as well
as science, we can leave you other things, things to delight the ear, and the heart. Listen, now, to the
music from our mother Earth.'
The lights had been turned down; the music had begun. No one who was there that night ever
forgot that moment, when the first strange and beautiful sounds filled the hall. Lora stood, lost in
wonder, not even remembering that Leon stood by her side, holding her hand in his.
It was a music that she had never known − the sound of things that belonged to Earth, and to Earth
alone. The slow beat of deep bells, the songs of patient boatmen rowing home, of armies marching into
battles long ago, the whisper of ten million voices rising from the great cities, the sound of winds
dancing over endless seas of ice. All these things she heard in the music, and more − the songs of distant
Earth, carried to her across the light−years . . .
Then a clear high voice, rising like a bird into the sky, singing a song that went straight to every
heart. It was a song for all loves lost in the loneliness of space, for friends and homes that would never
be seen again, that would be forgotten for ever in years to come.
As the music died away into the darkness, the people of Thalassa, avoiding words, had gone slowly
to their homes. But Lora had not gone to hers; for the loneliness that filled her heart, there was only one
answer. And presently she had found it, in the warm night of the forest, as Leon's arms closed around
her in the moonlight. And while the fire of love burned, they were safe from the shadows of the night
and the loneliness of the stars.
* * *
To Leon, it was never wholly real. Sometimes he thought that at his journey's end Thalassa would
seem like a dream that had come in his long sleep. This wild and desperate love, for example; he had not
asked for it, but there it was.
When he could escape from work, he took long walks with Lora in the fields far from the village,
where only machines worked on the land. For hours Lora would question him about Earth, wanting to
know everything about the `home' she had never seen with her own eyes.
She was very disappointed to hear that there were no longer great cities like Chandrigar or
Astrograd on Earth, and that life there had changed so much since the old stories that she knew.
`But what happened to the cities?' she asked Leon.
`They disappeared for a number of reasons really,' Leon explained. `When it became easy to see
and talk to other people anywhere on Earth just by pushing a button on a computer, most of the need for
cities was gone. Then we learnt how to turn off the pull of gravity, and once you can control gravity,
you can move anything heavy, even houses, through the sky without difficulty. So all movement and
travel became really simple. After that, people started to live where they liked, and the cities just slowly
disappeared.'
Lora was lying on the grass, looking up at the sky. `Do you suppose,' she said, `that we'll ever break through the speed of light?'
`I don't think so,' he said smiling, knowing what she was thinking. `We have to travel the slow way
because that's how the universe is made, and there's nothing we can do about it.'
`It would be wonderful,' Lora said dreamily, `to be able to travel back to Earth, to see what it was
like, without spending hundreds of years on the journey.' But the wish would never come true, and with
Leon beside her, it did not seem important. He was here; Earth and the stars were far away. And so also
was tomorrow, with whatever unhappiness it would bring . . .
By the end of the week the engineers had built a strong metal pyramid on land that looked out over
the sea. Lora, with the 571 other Palm Bay villagers and several thousand other Thalassans, came to
watch the first test. Many of the islanders were nervous about the strange science of the visitors. Did the
Earthmen know what they were doing? What if something went wrong? And what were they doing,
anyway?
Lora knew that Leon was there inside the machine with his companions, preparing for the test.
Then the engineers came out and walked to a high place where they stood, staring out to sea.
Two kilometres out, something strange was happening to the water. It looked like a storm, but a
storm just in one small place. The waves grew higher and higher, then as tall as mountains, crashing
wildly into each other. Suddenly, the movement changed. The waves came together, higher and thinner,
and soon − to the amazement and fear of the watching Thalassans − a long river of sea water was rising
up into the sky, climbing a hundred metres, then two, higher and higher, until it disappeared into the
clouds above. Huge drops of water, escaping from the edge of the rising river, fell back down into the
sea in a heavy rainstorm, but the river itself went on climbing up into space towards the starship
Magellan.
Slowly the crowd moved away, forgetting their first amazement and fright. Humans had been able
to control gravity for many years; now they had seen it with their own eyes. A million tonnes of water
from Thalassa's sea was on its way out into space, where the engineers would freeze it and shape it, and
turn it into a travelling shield for the starship. In a few days the ship would be ready to leave.
Up until the last minute, Lora had hoped that they would fail. With fear in her heart, she watched
the river of water rising smoothly into the sky. It meant only one thing to her; soon she must say
goodbye to Leon. She walked slowly towards the group of Earthmen, trying to stay calm. Leon saw her
and came to meet her, the happiness on his face turning to worry as he saw her expression.
`Well,' he said, `we've done it.' He sounded almost ashamed, and avoided meeting her eyes.
`And now − how long will you be here?'
`Oh, about three days − perhaps four.'
Lora had expected this. She tried to speak calmly, but the words came out as a desperate cry.
`You can't leave! Stay here on Thalassa!'
Leon took her hands and said gently, `No, Lora − this isn't my world. I've spent half my life
training for the work I'm doing now. There is no work for me here, and I would be bored to death in a
month.'
`Then take me with you! I would go anywhere, do anything, if we could be together!'
`You don't really mean that. You know that you would be more out of place in my world than I
would be in yours.'
But as he looked into her eyes he saw that she did mean it, and for the first time he felt ashamed of
himself. He had never meant to hurt her; he was very fond of her and would always remember her. Now
he was discovering, as so many men before him had done, that it was not always easy to say goodbye.
There was only one thing to do. Better a short, sharp pain than a long unhappiness.
`Come with me, Lora,' he said. `I have something to show you.'
They did not speak as Leon led the way to the Magellan's space bus, that great silver egg that had
first brought the visitors down to Thalassa. After a short argument with another engineer there, Leon
took Lora inside the bus and seconds later it had taken off, lifting smoothly into the air with no feeling
of movement, no whisper of sound. Already Lora was in a world she had never known before − a world
of scientific wonders that Thalassa had never needed or wanted for its life and happiness.
As Lora watched, Thalassa became just a misty curve of blue below, and soon, out of the blackness
of space, the starship Magellan came into view. The sight of it took Lora's breath away − an endless
curving wall of metal, perhaps as much as four kilometres long.
The bus found its own way home and locked itself into an entrance gate in the side of the ship.
Lora followed Leon through the doors of the airlock, then stepped on to a long, moving walkway which
carried them smoothly and silently into the heart of the ship.
For an hour Leon showed Lora the Magellan. They travelled along endless fast−moving walkways,
upwards through tunnels where there was no gravity, in and out of every part of the great ship − through
the engine room a kilometre long, past long rows of mysterious computers and strange machines,
through huge libraries filled with every piece of information that anyone could want. The Magellan was
a man−made and self−contained world, waiting to bring human life to a young planet far away in space.
And Lora knew that Leon was showing her just how different his life was from hers.
Now they came to a great white door which slid silently open as they came near it. Inside were
rows of long warm coats. Leon helped Lora to climb into one of these, and put one on himself. Then he
opened a glass door in the floor, turned to her and said, `There's no gravity down here, so keep close to
me and do exactly as I say.'
Through the open door a cloud of freezing cold air was rising. Lora trembled in fear and wonder,
and Leon took her arm. `Don't worry,' he said. `You won't notice the cold.' Then he went down through
the door and Lora followed him.
Without the pull of gravity, Lora felt she was swimming, but through air rather than water. All
around her, in this frozen white universe, were rows and rows of shining glass boxes, each box large
enough to hold a human being.
And each box did. There they were, the thousands, tens of thousands of colonists on their way to a
new world, sleeping in suspended animation until the day of their arrival. What were they dreaming in
their three−hundred− year sleep? Did they dream at all in that half−world between life and death?
Overhead there were moving belts with handholds every few metres. Leon took hold of one of
these and it pulled him and Lora along past the endless rows of glass boxes. They went on and on,
changing from one moving belt to another, until at last Leon let go and they came to a stop beside one
box no different from all the thousands of others.
But as Lora saw Leon's expression, she knew why he had brought her here, and knew that her
battle was already lost.
For a long time, unconscious of the cold, Lora stared down at the sleeping woman in her glass box,
a woman who would only wake long after Lora was dead. It was not a beautiful face, but it was strong,
intelligent, full of character − the face of somebody able to build a new Earth beyond the stars. At last
Lora spoke, her voice a whisper in the frozen stillness.
`Is she your wife?'
`Yes. I'm sorry, Lora. I never meant to hurt you . . .'
`It doesn't matter now. It was my fault, too.' She paused and looked more closely at the sleeping
woman. `And your child as well?'
`Yes. It will be born three months after we land.'
How strange, Lora thought, to carry a child inside you for nine months and three hundred years!
But that was just another part of this strange world, Leon's world, a world that had no place for her. She
knew that now, and knew that the coldness that had entered her heart would stay with her long after she
had left this frozen place.
She remembered nothing of the journey back to the space bus. Leon did something to the controls,
and turned to her.
`Goodbye, Lora,' he said. `My work is done. It would be better if I stayed here on the starship.'
There were no more words to say, and Lora could not even see his face through her tears.
He took her hands in his and held them hard. `Oh Lora,' he whispered. Then he was gone.
After what seemed like a lifetime later, Lora heard an automatic voice coming from the control
board. `We have landed; please leave by the front doors.' The doors opened and Lora went through them and down the steps outside.
Surprisingly, a small crowd was watching her arrival with interest. For a moment she did not
understand why; then Clyde's voice shouted, `Where is he?' He jumped forward, his face red with anger,
and caught Lora by the arm. `Tell him to come out and meet me like a man.'
Lora shook her head tiredly. `He's not here. I've said goodbye to him. I'll never see him again.'
Clyde stared at her disbelievingly, then saw that she spoke the truth. In the same moment Lora
threw herself into his arms, crying her heart out in her pain and misery. Clyde held her close; she
belonged to him again, and all his anger disappeared like morning mist in the sunshine.
* * *
For almost fifty hours the river of water thundered upwards out of the sea into space. All the island
watched, through television cameras, the making of the great ice shield that would ride ahead of the
Magellan on its way to the stars.
The last day came and went. The Earthmen said their final goodbyes, and the silver space bus lifted
off and climbed up into space. Some time later the night sky exploded into light, as the starship's great
engines began to burn with the fire of a thousand suns.
Lora turned her face away from the sky and hid it against Clyde's shoulder. This was where she
belonged. Clyde held her gently, loving her without words, but he knew that all the days of his life, the
ghost of Leon would come between him and Lora − the ghost of a man who would be not one day older
when they lay dead and buried.
Already the Magellan was moving across the sky along its lonely and unreturning road. The white
fire of its engines seemed to burn less brightly, and now the soft golden light of the moon Selene could
be seen again in the sky. A few moments later the Magellan was only a distant point of light, then even
that disappeared into the long emptiness of space.
Lora now looked up at the empty sky. Leon had been right. The life of the starship was not for her.
Her life was here, on this quiet island. The colonists of the Magellan belonged to the future. Leon and
his companions would be moving seas, levelling mountains, and fighting unknown dangers, when her
descendants in two hundred years' time would still be dreaming on the peaceful beaches of Thalassa.
And which was better, who could say?
-------------------------------------------- * * * * *----------------------------
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