When he saw that careful drawing in Karl’s sketchbook, Duncan had recognized it at once. But now it seemed to him that the recognition came not only from the past, but also from the future. It was as if he had caught a momentary glimpse in the Mirror of Time, reflecting something that had not yet occurred-and something that must be awesomely important for it to have succeeded in reversing the flow of causality.
Project Argus was part of the destiny of mankind; of this, Duncan was now sure beyond any need for rational proof. But whether it would be beneficent was another question. All knowledge was a two-edged sword, and it might well be that any messages from the stars would not be to the liking of the human race. Duncan remembered the dying cries of the sea urchin he had killed, out there on Golden Reef. Were those faint but sinister crepitations wholly meaningless-an accidental by-product? Or did they have some more profound significance? His instincts gave him not the slightest clue, one way or the other.
But it was an act of faith to Duncan, and to those he had worked with all his life, that it was cowardice not to face the truth, whatever it might be and wherever it might lead. If the time was coming for mankind to face the powers behind the stars, so be it. He had no
doubts. All he felt now was a calm contentment—even if it was the calm at the center of the cyclone.
Duncan watched the light trembling and dancing on the lagoon, as the sun sank lower and lower toward the horizon and the hidden coast of Africa.
Sometimes he thought he could see, in those flaring, coruscating patterns, the warning beacons of Argus, staking a claim to the billions of cubic kilometers of space they enclosed-fifty or a hundred years from now…. Changing shape even as Duncan watched, the Sun kissed the horizon and spread out a crimson, bellshaped skirt across the sea. Now it looked like the film of an atomic blast-but run backward, so that the fires of hell sank harmlessly into the ocean. The last golden arc of the departing disc lingered on the edge of the world for an instant, and at the very second it disappeared there was a momentary Bash of green.
As long as Duncan lived, he might never see such heartbreaking beauty again. It was a memory to take back to Titan, from the island on which he had made the great decision of his life and opened the next chapter
in the story of the outer worlds. Part IV
I 1~ I
71 L Titan
HOMECOMING
It was over. All the good-byes had been said to crew and passengers, all the formalities had been completed, everything he had brought from Earth was already moving along the conveyor belt. Everything, that is, except for the most important gift of all.
He could walk through that door marked TITAN CITIZENS, and he would be home. Already he had forgotten the crippling gravity of Earth; that-and so much else-was fading into the past like a dissolving dream. This was where he belonged and where his life’s work would be done. He would never again go sunward, though he knew there would be times when some remembered beauty of the mother world would drive a dagger into his heart.
The family must be waiting, there in the reception lounge; and now, with only seconds before the moment of reunion, Duncan felt a reluctance to face the whole Makenzie clan. He let the other travelers go hurrying past him, while he stood irresolutely, trying to pluck up his courage and clutching his precious bundle awkwardly to his chest. Then be moved forward, under the archway, and out onto the ramp.
There were so many of them! Malcolm and Colin, of course, Marissa, more beautiful and desirable than even in his most restless dreams, now free of
Calindy forever; Clyde and Carline-could she really have grown so much, in so short a time? And at least twenty nephews and nieces whose names he knew as well as his own, but just couldn’t recall at the moment.
No-it was impossible! But there she was, standing a little apart from the others, leaning heavily on her cane, yet otherwise completely
unaltered since he had 300 last seen her on the cliffs of Loch Hellbrew. Much else had changed indeed if Grandma Ellen had retamed to Oasis for the first time in fifty years.
As she saw Duncan’s astonished gaze, she gave a barely perceptible smile.
It was more than a greeting; it was a signal of reassurance. She already knows, thought Duncan. She knows and approves. When the full fury of the
Makenzies breaks upon my head I can rely on her…. There flashed into his mind an old Terran phrase, whose origin he had long ago forgotten: the Moment of Truth. Well, here it was They all crowded eagerly around him as he drew back the shawl. For an instant only he felt regret; perhaps he should have given some warning. No, it was better this way. Now they would learn that he was his own man at last, no longer a pawn of others-however much he might owe to theta, however much he might be part of them.
The child was still sleeping, but normally now, not in the, electronic trance that had protected it on the long voyage from Earth. Suddenly it threw out a chubby arm, and tiny fingers gripped Duncan’s hand with surprising strength. They looked like the pale white tentacles of a sea anemone against the dark brown of Duncan’s skin.
The little head was still empty even of dreams, and the face was as void and formless as that of any mont hold baby. But already the smooth, pink scalp bore an unmistakable trace of hair-the golden hair that would soon bring back to Titan the lost glories of the distant Sun.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS AND NOTES
my first thanks should go to Truman Talley, who in the early ‘50’s made what was then (and for that matter still is) a most generous offer for this book, on the strenath of the title and one conversation. I have often wished that I could remember what I said then; it might have saved me much trouble, twenty years later. I now have no idea if this book bears the slightest resemblance to that early concept, but “Macls” initial encouragement kept me from abandoning it.
Like many other addicts, I was introduced to polyominoes by Martin
Gardner’s Scientific American Book of Mathematical Puzzles and Diversions, which, however, fiendishly refrains from giving the solution to the 20 X 3 rectangle. In his definitive book Polyominoes, Solomon W. Golomb takes mercy on his readers. In the hope of preventing a few nervous breakdowns,
I reproduce his answer herewith:
UXPILNFTWYZV
Anyone who wishes to construct this rectangle from the twelve pentominoes should have no difficulty in matching them with the letters they (sometimes approximately) resemble. It is easy to see that the second of the (only) two solutions is obtained by rotating a seven-element central portion.
Dr. Golomb, who is now professor of Electrical
Engineering and Mathematics at the University of
Southern California, has also invented an ingenious game called Pentominoes@ (distributed in North
America by Hallmark Cards and in Europe by Zimpfer
Puzzles). It has more openings than chess. In an earlier version of 2001: A Space Odyssey, Stanley Kubrick shot Hal playing this game against the astronauts.
I am indebted to Dr. Robert Forward of the Hughes Research Laboratory,
Malibu, for introducing me to the fascinating concept of mini black holes, and for making such encouraging noises about the somewhat outrageous propulsion system of S. S. Sirius that I am almost inclined to patent it…. Dr. Grote Reber, the father of radio astronomy and builder of the world’s first radio telescope, started me thinking about the extent of the heliosphere and, its possible consequences. I am grateful for his comments on cutoff frequencies, but he is in no way responsible for my wilder extrapolations of his ideas. Dr. Adrian Webster, of Cavendish Laboratory’s