The Colors of Space

Relieved at not having to go with Ringg, he followed the captain,

falling into step beside him. They moved in silence, along the smooth

stone path.

"The crystal creatures made this road," Vorongil said at last. "I think

they read minds a little. There used to be a very messy, rocky desert

here, and we used to have to scrabble and scratch our way to the

monument. Then one day a ship--not mine--touched down and discovered

that there was a beautiful smooth road leading up to the monument. And

the lichens never touch that stone--but you probably had all this in

school. Excited, Bartol?"

"No--no, sir. Why?"

"Eyes look a bit odd. But who could blame you for being excited? I never

come here without remembering Rhazon and his crew on that long jump. The

longest any Lhari captain ever made. A blind leap in the dark, remember,

Bartol. Through the dark, through the void, with his own crew cursing

him for taking the chance! No one had ever crossed between galaxies--and

remember, they were using the Ancient Math!"

He paused, and Bart said through a catch of breath. "Quite an

achievement." His badge still looked reassuringly yellow.

"You young people have no sense of wonder," Vorongil said. "Not that I

blame you. You can't realize what it was like in those days. Oh, we'd

had star-travel for centuries, we were beginning to stagnate. And now

look at us! Oh, they derided Rhazon--said that even if he did find

anyone, any other race, they'd be monsters with whom we could never

communicate. But here we have a whole new galaxy for peaceful trade, a

new mathematics that takes all the hazard out of space travel, our

Mentorian friends and allies." He smiled. "Don't tell the High Council

on me, but I think they deserve a lot more credit than most Lhari care

to give them. Between ourselves, I think the next Panarch may see it

that way."

Vorongil paused. "Here's the monument."

It lay between the crystal columns, tall, of pale blue sandstone, with

letters in deep shadow of such contrast that the Lhari could read them:

a high, sheer, imposing stele. Vorongil read the words slowly aloud in

the musical Lhari language: "'Here, with thanks to Those who Watch the Great Night, I, Rhazon of

Nedrun, raise a stone of memory. Here we first do touch the new worlds.

Let us never again fear to face the unknown, trusting that the Mind of

All Knowledge still has many surprises in store for all the living.' "I think I admire courage more than anything there is, Bartol. Who else

could have dared it? Doesn't it make you proud to be a Lhari?"