Epilogue

 

 

“And, of course, we did,” said the preceptor.

Afterwards there was a long pause. Inevitably one of the youngest budlings broke it by demanding, loudly enough to be heard: “What became of the wild planetoid, then?”

“Wait!”

The center of the globe, where the marvels of modern technology had recreated Jing and Chybee, Yockerbow and Aglabec, all the characters famous and infamous from the long story of their species, swirled and blurred and resumed its original configuration.

Now, though, everything was in closer focus. The bud-world was emphasized, the sun and planets far away. Then, from the threshold of infinity, the wild planetoid rushed in. For one pith-freezing moment, which even those who had witnessed the spectacle a score of times found fearful, it seemed as though they were about to crash!

A shift of perspective: they were back on the budworld. Its oceans were rising to the wild planet’s tug, beating the shores and swamping the cities. The air wrought havoc with fantastic gales. Closeups revealed the naked panic of those who were caught up and burst to death.

The youngest of the budlings screamed in terror.

“Our species could have been destroyed,” said the preceptor as the view shifted again. This time it could be seen how the wild planetoid swung past, disturbing the orbit of the moon, but sweeping by towards the belt of asteroids that ringed the sun.

“We think, but because it was hidden from our fore-budders we’ll never know, that it collided with an asteroid behind the sun. At all events, it did not reappear. But it had done harm enough. Had not the joint resources of both Slah and Fregwil been applied to launching vessels into space, it is beyond a doubt that by this time we’d be extinct. The show is over. Ponder the lessons that it teaches—all your lives!”

And suddenly the feigned imagery that had filled the center of the globe was replaced by the reality of what surrounded their fragile home. Beautiful, yet terrible, there loomed the Major Cluster, from which they were being borne away by the pressure of light from its exploding stars; there too was the Arc of Heaven which their fore-budders had imagined to be the weapon of a god; there was the sun that had shone on the budworld, fading to the petty status of just another star …

And far beyond lay the safe dark deeps that they were steering for, where they were certain of energy, and the means to feed themselves and grow more drifting globes, choosing what they wanted from the resources of the galaxy.

“Yes?” said the preceptor to another young’ un, knowing what question was invariably put.

“Scholar, do you think there’s anybody else out there?”

“There’s bound to be!”—with total confidence. “And when we meet them, we shall be able to stand proud on what we’ve done!”