He could not help but feel amazed that much of mankind’s recent culture had already passed into the limbo. Verbal finesse that had been so typical of the Era of World Unity, oral and written whimsicalities that had at one time been regarded as the hallmark of a good education, had completely disappeared. Writing for the sake of beauty, so widespread in the Era of Common Labour, had gone and with it the juggling with words that went by the name of witticism. Still earlier the necessity to hide one’s thoughts, an important matter in the Era of Disunity, had ceased to exist. All talk had become simpler and terser and it seemed that the Great Circle Era would become the era of the third system of signals — comprehension without words.
From time to time Mven Mass- turned to the ever wakeful mechanical secretary with new recordings of his thoughts.
“The fluctuating psychology of art had its beginning in the second century of the Great Circle Era and was founded by Liuda Pheer. She first gave a scientific proof of the difference in the emotional perception of men and women and laid bare that sphere that had for centuries been regarded as the semi-mystic subconscious. The proofs she offered for the understanding of her contemporaries, however, constituted the lesser part of her work. Liuda Pheer did more — she indicated the main series of sensual perceptions that made it possible to achieve similarity in the perception of the two sexes.”
A ringing signal and a green light suddenly called Mven Mass to the televisophone. A call that came during working hours meant something very urgent. The automatic secretary was switched off and Mven Mass hurried downstairs to the room where long-distance calls were received.
Veda Kong, with bruised and scratched cheeks and with deep shadows under her eyes, greeted him from the screen. Mven Mass was pleased to see her and held out his huge hands to her, causing Veda’s worried face to break into a faint smile.
“Help me, Mven. I know you’re working but Darr Veter isn’t on Earth and Erg Noor is far away; besides them you’re the only one I have to whom I can turn with any request. I’ve had a misfortune.”
“What? Darr Veter….”
“No, a cave collapsed during excavations.”
Veda gave him a brief description of what had happened in the Hall of Culture.
“You’re the only one of my friends who has free access to the Prophetic Brain.”
“To which of the four?”
“The Brain of Lower Definition.”
“I understand; you want me to calculate the possibility of reaching the door with a minimum expenditure of labour and material.”
“You’re right.”
“Have you got the data?”
“I have them before me.”
“All right. I’m listening.”
Mven Mass wrote down some columns of figures very rapidly.
“Now you’ll have to wait until the machine can accept my figures. If you wait I’ll get in touch with the Prophetic Brain engineer on duty. The Brain of Lower Definition is in the Australian Section of the southern zone.”
“Where is the Brain of Higher Definition?”
“That’s in the Indian Section, where I am, now. I’m changing over. Wait for me.”
As Veda stood before the empty screen she tried to imagine the Prophetic Brain. Her imagination pictured a gigantic human brain with its furrows and convolutions, alive and pulsating, although the young woman knew that they were electronic research machines of the highest class capable of solving any problem that could be solved by the known branches of mathematics. There were only four such machines on the planet and they all had special uses.
Veda did not have long to wait. The screen lit up and Mven Mass asked her to call him again in six days’ time. later in the evening.
“Mven, your help is invaluable!”
“Just because I know something of the rules of mathematics, is that it? And your work is invaluable because you know the ancient languages and cultures. Veda, you’re overdoing it with the Era of Disunity!”
The historian frowned but Mven Mass laughed with such good nature and so infectiously that Veda also laughed, waved him good-bye and disappeared.
At the appointed time Mven Mass again saw the young woman in the televisophone.
“You needn’t speak, I see by your face that the answer is unfavourable.”
“Yes, stability is below the safety limit. If you go straight to it you will have to remove almost a million cubic metres of rock.”
“It will only be possible for us to tunnel to the second cave and remove the safes,” said Veda, sadly.
“Is it a matter of such distress?”
“Excuse me, Mven, but you have also stood before a door that hid an unfathomed secret. Yours are great, universal secrets and mine are tiny little ones. Emotionally, however, my failure is the equal of yours!”
“We’re companions in misfortune. I can tell you that we’ll be knocking our heads against closed doors many times, yet. The stronger and more courageous our efforts the more often we shall come up against doors.”
“One of them will open!”
“Naturally.”
“You haven’t given up altogether, have you?”
“Of course not, we’re collecting fresh facts and the indicants of more correct methods.”
“And suppose you have to wait all your life?”
“What is my individual life compared with such a step forward in knowledge!”
“Mven, what has happened to your impassioned impatience?”
“It hasn’t disappeared, it’s been curbed — by suffering.”
“How’s Renn Bose?”
“He’s better. He’s looking for ways to make his abstractions more precise.”
“I see. Wait a minute, Mven, there’s something important for me!”
Veda disappeared from the screen and when the light flashed on again, she was another, younger and more carefree woman.
“Darr Veter is returning to Earth. Satellite 57 is being completed ahead of time.”
“As quickly as that? Is it finished?”
“No, it’s not finished, they’ve only put on the outer walls of the hull and mounted the engines. The work inside is easier. He is being called back to rest and to analyse Junius Antus’ report on a new form of communication around the Great Circle.”
“Thanks, Veda. I’ll be glad to see Darr Veter.”
“You’ll see him all right. I didn’t finish. Supplies of anameson for the new spaceship Lebed have been prepared by the efforts of the whole planet. The crew invite you to see them off on the journey from which there will be no return. Will you come?”
“I’ll be there. The planet will show Lebed’s crew everything that is beautiful and lovable in the world. They also wanted to see Chara’s dance at the Fete of the Flaming Bowls. She is going to repeat her performance at the central cosmoport in El Homra. We’ll meet there!”
“Good, Mven Mass, my friend.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE ANDROMEDA NEBULA
The huge plain of El Homra stretches away to the south of the Gulf of Sirt in North Africa. Up to the time the trade winds and doldrums were eliminated it had been known as Hammada, the Red Desert, a waste of sand and stone, especially the triangular red stones that had given it its name. In summer it had been an ocean of scorching sunlight and during the autumn and winter nights it became an ocean of cold winds. Only the wind now remained of the old Hammada and that sent wave after wave across the tall silvery-blue grass that covered the firm soil of the plain; the grass had been transplanted from the South African veldt. The whistling of the wind and the bowed grass awakened in man’s memory an uncertain feeling of sorrow and, at the same time, a feeling that the great grassy plains are somehow close to his heart, something that he had met with before in his life — not just once before, but many times and under different circumstances, in sorrow and in joy, in good times and bad.