bering but also of restoring that
which had been forgotten.
They went on to a small platform fixed to the end of a half-arch of
lattice-work. In the centre of the floor there was a big, unlighted screen
with low benches around it on which the visitors sat and waited.
"The 'moles' will finish soon," said Liao Lang. "As you have probably
guessed they are carrying the hare wire through the rocks and weaving a
metallic net. The skeletons of extinct animals lie in friable sandstone at a
depth of fourteen metres below the surface. Lower, at seventeen metres, the
whole field is covered by the metallic net which is connected to powerful
inductors. A field of reflection is thus created which throws X-rays on to
the. screen giving us the image of the fossilized bones."
Two big metal globes turned on massive pedestals. Floodlights were
switched on and the howl of sirens warned everybody of danger. Direct
current at a tension of a million volts filled the air with the fresh smell
of ozone and made the terminals and insulators glow blue in the dark.
Liao Lang was turning switches and pressing buttons on the control
panel with feigned carelessness. The big screen grew brighter and brighter,
in its depths some faint, blurred outlines appeared here and there in the
field of vision. All movement on the screen then ceased, the fluid outlines
of a big patch became clear-cut and filled almost the whole screen.
After a few more manipulations on the control panel the onlookers saw
before them the skeleton of an unknown animal showing through a hazy glow.
The wide paws with their long claws were bent under the body, the long tail
was curled in a loop. An outstanding feature of the skeleton was the unusual
thickness of the huge bones with curved ends and ridges to which the
animal's mighty muscles had been attached. The skull with jaws clamped tight
was grinning with its front teeth. It was seen from above and looked like a
bone slab with a rough, broken surface. Liao Lang changed the depth of focus
and the degree of enlargement until the whole screen was filled with the
head of the ancient reptile that had lived two hundred million years before
on the banks of a river that had once flowed there.
The top of the skull consisted of extraordinarily thick- no less than
twenty centimetres-plates of bone. There were bony ridges over the
eye-sockets and there were similar excrescences over the temporal hollows
and on the convex bones of the skull. From the back part of the skull there
rose a big cone with the opening of a tremendous parietal eye. Liao Lang
gave a loud gasp of admiration.
Darr Veter could not take his eyes off the clumsy, heavy skeleton of
the ancient beast that had been compelled to live as a prisoner of
unresolved contradictions. Increases in muscular power had led to thicker
bones that were put to great strain and the heavier weight of the bigger
bones again required a strengthening of the muscles. This direct dependence
led the evolution of archaic organisms into a complete deadlock until some
important physiological mutation resolved the old contradictions and brought
about a new evolutionary stage. It seemed unbelievable that such creatures
were amongst the ancestors of man with his beautiful body capable of great
activity and precise movements.
Darr Veter looked at the excrescences over the brows of the Permian
reptile that betrayed its stupid ferocity and compared it with lithe, supple
Veda with such bright eyes in her intelligent, lively face. What a
tremendous difference in the organization of living matter! Involuntarily he
squinted sideways, trying to get a glimpse of Veda's features through her
helmet and when his eyes returned to the screen there was something else
there. This was the wide, flat, parabolic head of an amphibian, the ancient
salamander, doomed to lie in the warm, dark waters of a Permian swamp,
waiting until something eatable came within its reach. Then, one swift leap,
one snap of the jaws and again the same eternal, patient and senseless lying
in wait. Darr Veter felt annoyed and oppressed by pictures of the endlessly
long and cruel evolution of life. He straightened up and Liao Lang, guessing
his mood, suggested that they return home to rest. It was hard for Veda,
with her insatiable curiosity, to tear herself away from her observations
until she saw that the scientists were hurrying to switch on the machines to
take electron photographs so as not to waste power.
Veda was soon ensconced on a wide divan in the drawing-room of the
women's hostel but Darr Veter remained for some little time walking up and
down the smooth terrace in front of the houses, mentally reviewing his
impressions.
The dew of the northern morning washed the previous day's dust off the
grass. The imperturbable Liao Lang returned from his night's work and
proposed sending his guests to the nearest aerodrome on an Elf, a small
accumulator-driven car. There was a base for jumping jet aircraft a hundred
kilometres to the south-east, on the lower reaches of the River Trom-Yugan.
Veda wanted to get in touch with her expedition but there was no radio
transmitter of sufficient power at the dig. Since our ancestors discovered
the harmful influence of radioactivity and introduced strict regulation into
the use of radio, directed radio communication has required much more
complicated apparatus, especially for long-distance conversations. In
addition to that the number of stations has been greatly reduced. Liao Lang
decided to get in touch with the nearest herdsmen's watch tower. These watch
towers had radio intercommunication and could also communicate directly with
the centre of their district. A young girl student who proposed driving the
Elf in order to bring it back, suggested calling in at a watch tower on the
way so that the visitors could use the televisophone for their conversation.
Darr Veter and Veda were glad of the opportunity. A strong wind blew the
occasional wisps of dust away from them and ruffled the abundant,
short-cropped hair of their driver. There was scarcely room for the three of
them in the narrow car, Darr Veter's huge body made it a tight fit for the
two women. The slim silhouette of the watch tower was visible in the
distance against the clear blue of the sky. Very soon the Elf came to a
standstill at the foot of the tower. A plastic roof was built between the
straddling legs of the structure where another Elf was garaged. The guide
bars of a tiny lift led up through this roof and took them one by one past
the living quarters to the platform at the top of the tower where they were
met by an almost naked young man. The sudden confusion displayed by their
hitherto self-reliant driver gave Veda to understand that the reason for her
having been so accommodating was a deep-rooted one.
The circular room with crystal walls swayed noticeably and the metal
structure of the tower thrummed monotonously like a taut violin string. The
floor and ceiling o? the room were painted in dark colours. On the narrow
curved tables under the windows there were binoculars, calculating machines
and notebooks. The tower, from its height of ninety metres, had a full view
of the surrounding steppe as far as the limits of visibility of neighbouring
towers. The staff maintained constant watch over the herds and kept records
of fodder supplies. The milking labyrinths, through which the herds of milk
cows were driven twice a day, lay in the steppe in green concentric rings.
The milk which, like that of the African antelope, did not turn sour, was
poured into containers and frozen on the spot after which it could be kept
for a long time in the underground refrigerators. The herds were driven from
one pasture to another with the aid of the Elfs kept at each of the watch
towers. The observers were mostly young people who had not completed their
education and they had plenty of time to study during their tour of duty.
The young man led Veda and Darr Veter down a spiral staircase to living
quarters suspended between the supports of the tower a few yards below the
platform. The rooms were equipped with sound insulation and the travellers
found themselves in absolute silence. Only the constant swaying of the room
served to remind them that they were at a height that could be dangerous in
the event of the slightest carelessness.
Another youth was working at the radio. The exotic hair-do and brightly
coloured dress of the girl in the televisophone screen showed that he was
talking to the central station; women working in the steppes wore short
overall suits. The girl on the screen connected them with the zonal station
and soon the sad face and tiny figure of Miyiko Eigoro, Veda's chief
assistant, appeared on the screen. There was pleasurable astonishment in her
slightly slant eyes, like those of Liao Lang, and her tiny mouth opened at
the suddenness of it all. A second later, however, Veda Kong and Darr Veter
were confronted with a passionless face that expressed nothing except
businesslike attention. Darr Veter went back upstairs and found the girl
student of palaeontology engaged in a lively conversation with the first
youth; Veter went outside on to the verandah surrounding the circular room.
The damp of early morning had long since given way to a noonday heat that
robbed the colours of their freshness and levelled out irregularities in the
ground. The steppe spread far and wide, under a burning clear sky. Veter
again recalled his vague longing for the northern land of his ancestors.
Leaning on the rail of the swaying platform he could feel how the dreams of
ancient peoples were coining true, and feel it with greater strength than
ever before. Stern nature had been driven to the far north by the conquering
hand of man and the vitalizing warmth of the south had been poured over
these great plains that had formerly lain frozen under a cold, cloudy sky.
Veda Kong entered the round room and announced that the radio operator
had agreed to take them farther on their journey. The girl with the cropped
hair thanked the historian with a long glance. Through the transparent wall
they could see the broad back of Darr Veter, as he stood there lost in
contemplation.
"Perhaps you were thinking of me?" he heard a voice say behind his
back.
"No, Veda, I was thinking of one of the postulates of ancient Indian
philosophy. It was to the effect that the world is not made for man and that
man himself becomes great only when he understands the value and beauty of
another life, the life of nature."
"That idea seems incomplete and I don't understand it.''' ''I suppose I
didn't finish it. I should have added that man alone can understand not only
the beauty but also the dark and difficult sides of life. Only man possesses
the ability to dream and the strength to make life better!"
"Now I understand,"' said Veda, softly, and after a long pause added,
"You've changed. Veter."
''Of course, I've changed. Four months of digging with a simple spade
amongst the stones and rotting logs of your kurgans is enough to change
anybody. Like it or not, you begin to look at life more simply and its
simple joys become dearer to you."
"'Don't make a joke of it, Veter, I'm talking seriously," said Veda
with a frown. "When I first knew you, you had command over all the power of
Earth, and used to speak to distant worlds; in your observatories in those
days, you might well have been the supernatural being whom the ancients
called God. And here, at our simple work, where you are the equal of
everybody else, you have ..." Veda stopped.
"What have I done?" he insisted, his curiosity aroused. "Have I lost my
majesty? What would you have said if you'd seen me before I joined the
Institute of Astrophysics? When I was an engine driver on the Spiral Way?
That is still less majestic. Or a mechanic on the fruit-gathering machines
in the tropics?" Veda laughed loudly.
"I'll disclose to you a secret of my youth. When I was in the Third
Cycle School I fell in love with an engine driver on the Spiral Way and at
that time I could not imagine anybody with greater power ... but here comes
the radio operator. Come along, Veter."
Before the pilot would allow Veda Kong and Darr Veter to enter the
cabin of the jumping jet aircraft he asked for a second time whether the
health of the passengers could stand the great acceleration of the machine.
He stuck strictly to the rules. When he was assured that it would be safe he
seated them in deep chairs in the transparent nose of an aircraft shaped
like a huge raindrop. Veda felt very uncomfortable, the seat sloped a long
way back because the nose of the aircraft was raised high above the ground.
The signal gong sounded, a powerful ' catapult hurled the plane almost
vertically into the air ; and Veda sank slowly into her chair as she would
in some viscous liquid. Darr Veter, with an effort, turned his head to give
Veda a smile of encouragement. The pilot switched on the engine. There was a
roar, a feeling of great weight in the entire body and the pear-shaped
aircraft was on its course, describing an arc at an altitude of twenty-three
thousand metres. It seemed that only a few minutes had passed when the
travellers, their knees trembling under them, got out of the plane in front
of their houses in the Altai Steppes and the pilot was waving to them to get
out of the way. Darr Veter realized that the engines would have to be
started on the ground as there was no catapult there to propel the machine.
He ran as fast as he could, pulling Veda after him. Miyiko Eigoro, running
easily, came to meet them and the two women embraced as though they had been
parted for a long time.
CHAPTER FIVE. THE HORSE ON THE SEA BED
The warm, transparent sea lay tranquil with scarcely a movement of its
amazingly bright green-blue waves. Darr Veter went in slowly until the water
reached his neck and spread his arms widely in an effort to keep his footing
on the sloping sea bed. As he looked over the
barely perceptible ripples towards the dazzling distant expanses he
again felt that he was dissolving in the sea, that he was becoming part of
that boundless element. He had brought his long suppressed sorrow with him,
to the sea-the sorrow of his parting from the entrancing majesty of the
Cosmos, from the boundless ocean of knowledge and thought, from the terrific
concentration of every day of his life as Director of the Outer Stations.
His existence had become quite different. His growing love for Veda Kong
relieved days of unaccustomed labour and the sorrowful liberty of thought
experienced by his superbly trained brain. He had plunged into historical
investigations with the enthusiasm of a disciple. The river of time,
reflected in his thoughts, helped him withstand the change in his life. He
was grateful to Veda Kong for having, with the sympathy and understanding so
typical of her, arranged the flying platform trips to parts of the world
that had been transformed by man's efforts. His own losses seemed petty when
confronted with the magnificence of man's labour on Earth and the greatness
of the sea. Darr Veter had become reconciled to the irreparable, something
that is always most difficult for a man.
A soft, almost childish voice called to him. He recognized Miyiko,
waved his arms, lay on his back and waited for the girl. She rushed into the
sea, big drops of water fell from her stiff, black hair and her yellowish
body took on a greenish tinge under a thin coating of water. They swam side
by side towards the sun, to an isolated desert island that formed a black
mound about a thousand yards from the shore. In the Great Circle Era all
children were brought up beside the sea and were good swimmers and Darr
Veter, furthermore, possessed natural abilities. At first he swam slowly,
afraid that Miyiko would grow tired, but the girl slipped along beside him
easily and untroubled. Darr Veter increased his speed, surprised at her
skill. Even when he exerted himself to the full she did not drop behind and
her pretty immobile face remained as calm as ever. They could soon hear the
dull splash of water on the seaward side of the islet. Darr Veter turned on
to his back, the girl swam past him, described a circle and returned to him.
''Miyiko, you're a marvellous swimmer!" he exclaimed in admiration; he
filled his lungs with air and checked his breathing.
"My swimming isn't as good as my diving," the girl replied, and Darr
Veter was again astonished.
"I am Japanese by descent," she explained. "Long ago there was a whole
tribe of our people all of whose women were divers; they dived for pearls
and gathered edible seaweed. This trade was passed on from generation to
generation and in the course of thousands of years it developed into a
wonderful art. Quite by accident it is manifested in me today, when there is
no longer a separate Japanese people, language or country."
"I never suspected ...."
"That a distant descendant of women divers would become an historian?
In our tribe we had a legend. There was once a Japanese artist by the name
of Yanagihara Eigoro."
"Eigoro? Isn't that your name?"
"Yes, it is rare in our days, when people are named any combination of
sounds that pleases the ear. Of course, everybody tries to find combinations
from the languages of their ancestors. If I'm not mistaken your name
consists of roots from the Russian language, doesn't it?"
"They aren't roots but whole words, Darr meaning 'gift' and Veter
meaning 'wind'."
"I don't know what my name means. But there really ' was an artist of
that name. One of my ancestors found a picture of his in some repository. It
is a big canvas, you can take a look at it in my house, it will be
interesting for an historian. A stern and courageous life is depicted with
extreme vividness, all the poverty and unpretentiousness of a nation in the
clutches of a cruel regime!
Shall we swim farther?"
"Wait a minute, Miyiko. What about the women divers?"
"The artist fell in love with a diver and settled amongst that tribe
for the rest of his life. His daughters, too, became divers who spent their
lives at their trade in the sea. Look at that peculiar islet over there,
it's like a round tank, or a low tower, like those they make sugar in."
"Sugar!" snorted Darr Veter, involuntarily. "When I was a boy these
desert islands fascinated me. They stand alone, surrounded by the sea, their
dark cliffs or clumps of trees hide mysterious secrets, you could meet with
everything imaginable on them, anything you dreamed of."
Miyiko's jolly laugh was his reward. The girl, usually so reticent and
always a little sad, had now changed beyond recognition. She sped on merrily
and bravely towards the heavily breaking waves and was still a mystery to
Veter, a closed door, so different from lucid Veda whose fearlessness was
more magnificent trustfulness than real
persistence.
Between the big offshore rocks the sea formed deep galleries into which
the sun penetrated to the very bottom. These galleries, on whose bed lay
dark mounds of sponges and whose walls were festooned with seaweed, led to
the dark, unfathomed depths on the eastern side of the island. Veter was
sorry that he had not taken an accurate chart of the coastline from Veda.
The rafts of the maritime expedition gleamed in the sun at their moorings on
the western spit several miles from their island. Opposite them was an
excellent beach and Veda was there now with all her party; accumulators were
being changed in the machines and the expedition had a day-off. Veter had
succumbed to the childish pleasure of exploring uninhabited islands.
A grim andesite cliff hung over the swimmers; there were fresh
fractures where a recent earthquake had brought down the more eroded part of
the coast. There was a very steep slope on the side of the open sea. Miyiko
and Veter swam for a long time in the dark water along the eastern side of
the island before they found a flat stone ledge on to which Veter hoisted
Miyiko who then pulled him up.
The startled sea birds darted back and forth and the crash of the
waves, transmitted by the rocks, made the andesite mass tremble. There was
nothing on the islet but bare stone and a few tough bushes, not a sign
anywhere of man or beast.
The swimmers made their way to the top of the islet, looked at the
waves breaking below and returned to the coast. A bitter aroma came from the
bushes growing in the crevices. Darr Veter stretched himself out on a warm
stone, and gazed lazily into the water on the southern side of the ledge.
Miyiko was squatting at the very edge of the cliff trying to get a
better view of something far down below. At this point there were no coastal
shallows or piled-up rocks. The steep cliff hung over dark, oily water. The
sunshine produced a glittering band along the edge of the cliff, and down
below, where the cliff diverted the sunlight vertically into the water, the
level sea bed of light-coloured sand was just visible.
'"What can you see there, Miyiko?" The girl was deep in thought and did
not turn round immediately.
"Nothing much. You're attracted to desert islands and I to the sea bed.
It seems to me that you can always find something interesting on the sea
bed, make discoveries."
"Then why are you working in the steppes?"
"There's a reason for it. The sea gives me so much pleasure that I
cannot stay with it all the time. You cannot always be listening to your
favourite music and it is the same with me and the sea. Being away for a
time makes every meeting with the sea more precious."
Darr Veter nodded his agreement.
"Shall we dive down there?" he asked, pointing to a gleam of white in
the depths. In her astonishment Miyiko raised brows that already had a
natural slant.
"D'you think you can? It must be about twenty-five metres deep there,
it takes an experienced diver."
"I'll try. And you?"
Instead of answering him Miyiko got up, looked round until she found a
suitable big stone which she took to the edge of the cliff.
"Let me try first. I'll go down with a stone although it's against my
rules, but the floor is very clean, I'm afraid there may be a current lower
down,"
The girl raised her arms, bent forward, straightened up and then bent
backwards. Darr Veter watched her at her breathing exercises, trying to
memorize them. Miyiko did not say another word but, after a few more
exercises, seized hold of the stone and dived into the dark water.
Darr Veter felt a vague anxiety when more than a minute passed and the
bold girl did not reappear. He, too, began looking for a stone, assuming
that he would need one much bigger. He had just taken hold of an
eighty-pound lump of andesite when Miyiko came to the surface. The girl was
breathing heavily and seemed fatigued. "There," she gasped, "there's a
horse." "What? What horse?"
''A huge statue of a horse, down there, in a natural niche. I'm going
back to take a proper look."
''Miyiko, it's too difficult for you. Let's swim bade to the beach and
get diving gear and a boat."
''Oh, no. I want to look at it myself, now! Then it will be my own
achievement, not something done by a machine. We'll call the others
afterwards."
"All right, I'm coining with you!" Darr Veter seized his big stone and
the girl laughed.
"Take a smaller one, that one will do. And what about your breathing?"
Darr Veter obediently performed the necessary exercises and then dived
into the water with the stone in his hands. The water struck him in the face
and turned him with his back to Miyiko; something was squeezing his chest
and there was a dull pain in his ears. He clenched his teeth, strained every
muscle in his body to fight against pain. The pleasant light of day was
rapidly lost as he entered the cold grey gloom of the depths. The cold,
hostile power of the deep water momentarily overpowered him, his head was in
a whirl, there was a stinging pain in his eyes. Suddenly Miyiko's firm hand
seized him by the shoulder and his feet touched the firm, dully silver sand.
With difficulty he turned his head in the direction she indicated; he
staggered, dropped the stone in his surprise and shot immediately upwards.
He did not remember how he got to the surface, he could see nothing but a
red mist and his breathing was spasmodic. In a short time the effects of the
high pressure wore off and that which he had seen was reborn in his memory.
He had seen the picture for an instant only but his eye had seen and his
brain recorded many details.
The dark cliffs formed a lofty lancet arch under which stood the
gigantic statue of a horse. Neither seaweed nor barnacles marred the
polished surface of the carving.
The unknown sculptor had endeavoured mainly to depict strength. The
fore part of the body was exaggerated, the tremendous chest given abnormal
width and the neck sharply curved. The near foreleg was raised so that the
rounded knee-cap was thrust straight at the viewer while the massive hoof
almost touched the breast. The other three legs were strained in an effort
to lift the animal from the ground giving the impression that the giant
horse was hanging over the viewer to crush him with its fabulous strength.
The mane on the arched neck was depicted as a toothed ridge, the jowl almost
touched the breast and there was ominous malice in eyes that looked out from
under the lowered brow and in the stone monster's pressed-back ears.
Miyiko was soon satisfied that Darr Veter was unharmed, left him
stretched out on a flat stone slab and dived once again into the water. At
last the girl had worn herself out with her deep diving and had seen enough
of her treasure. She sat down beside Veter and did not speak until her
breathing had again become normal.
"I wonder how old that statue can be?" Miyiko asked herself
thoughtfully.
Darr Veter shrugged his shoulders and then suddenly remembered the most
astonishing thing about the horse.
'"Why is there no seaweed or barnacles on the statue?"
Miyiko turned swiftly towards him.
"Oh, I've seen such things before. They were covered with some special
lacquer that does not permit living things to attach themselves to it. That
means that the statue must belong approximately to the Fission Age."
A swimmer appeared in the sea between the shore and the island. As he
drew near he half rose out of the water and waved to them. Darr Veter
recognized the broad shoulders and gleaming dark skin of Mven Mass. The tall
black figure was soon ensconced on the stones and a good-natured smile
spread over the face of the new Director of the Outer Stations. He bowed
swiftly to little Miyiko and with an expansive gesture greeted Darr Veter.
"Renn Bose and I have come here for one day to ask your advice."
"Who is Renn Bose?"
"A physicist from the Academy of the Bounds of Knowledge."
"I think I've heard of him, he works on space-field relationship
problems, doesn't he? Where did you leave him?"
'"On shore. He doesn't swim, not as well as you, anyway."
A faint splash interrupted Mven Mass. "I'm going to the beach, to
Veda," Miyiko called out to them from the water. Darr Veter smiled tenderly
at the girl.
"She's going back with a discovery," he explained to Mven Mass and told
him about the finding of the submarine horse. The African listened but
showed no interest. His long fingers were fidgeting and fumbling at his
chin. In the gaze he fixed on Darr Veter the latter read anxiety and hope.
"Is there anything serious worrying you? If so, why put it off?"
Mven Mass was not loath to accept the invitation. Seated on the edge of
a cliff over the watery depths that bid the mysterious horse he spoke of his
vexatious waverings. His meeting with Renn Bose had been no accident. The
vision of the beautiful world known as Epsilon Tucanae had never left him.
Ever since that night he had dreamed of approaching this wonderful world, of
overcoming, in some way, the great space separating him from it, of doing
something so that the time required to send a message there and receive an
answer would not be six hundred years, a period much greater than a man's
lifetime. He dreamed of experiencing at first hand the heartbeat of that
wonderful life that was so much like our own, of stretching out his hand
across the gulf of the Cosmos to our brothers in space. Mven Mass
concentrated his efforts on putting himself abreast of unsolved problems and
unfinished experiments that had been going on for thousands of years for the
purpose of understanding space I as a function of matter. He thought of the
problem Veda Kong had dreamed of on the night of her first broadcast to the
Great Circle.
In the Academy of the Bounds of Knowledge Renn Bose, a young specialist
in mathematical physics, was in charge of these researches. His meeting with
Mven Mass and their subsequent friendship was determined by a similarity of
endeavour.
Renn Bose was by that time of the opinion that the problem had been
advanced sufficiently to permit of an experiment, but it was one that could
not be done at laboratory level, like everything else Cosmic in scale. The
colossal nature of the problem made a colossal experiment necessary. Renn
Bose had come to the conclusion that the experiment should be carried out
through the outer stations with the employment of all terrestrial power
resources, including the Q-energy station in the Antarctic.
A sense of danger came to Darr Veter when he looked into Mven's burning
eyes and at his quivering nostrils.
"Do you want to know what I should do?" He asked this decisive question
calmly.
Mven Mass nodded and passed his tongue over his dry lips.
"I should not make the experiment," said Darr Veter, carefully
stressing every word and paying no attention to the grimace of pain that
flashed across the African's face so swiftly that a less observant man would
not have noticed it.
"That's what I expected!" Mven Mass burst out. "Then why did you
consider my advice to have any importance?"
"I thought we should be able to convince you." "All right, then, try!
We'll swim back to the others.
They're probably getting diving apparatus ready to examine the horse!"
Veda was singing and two other women's voices were accompanying her.
When she noticed the swimmers she beckoned to them, motioning with the
fingers of her open hand like a child. The singing stopped. Darr Veter
recognized one of the women as Evda Nahl, although this was the first time
he had seen her without her white doctor's smock. Her tall, pliant figure
stood out amongst the others on account of her white, still untanned skin.
The famous woman psychiatrist had apparently been busy and had not had time
for sunbathing. Evda's blue-black hair, divided into two by a dead straight
parting, was drawn up high above her temples. High cheek-bones over slightly
hollow cheeks served to stress the length of her piercing black eyes. Her
face bore an elusive resemblance to an ancient Egyptian sphinx, the one that
in very ancient days stood at the desert's edge beside the pyramid tombs of
the kings of the world's oldest state. The deserts have been irrigated for
many centuries, the sands are dotted with groves of rustling fruit-trees and
the sphinx itself still stands there under a transparent plastic shade that
does not hide the hollows of its time-eaten face.
Darr Veter recalled that Evda Nahl's genealogy went back to the ancient
Peruvians or Chileans. He greeted her in the manner of the ancient sun
worshippers of South America.
"It has done you good to work with the historians," said Evda, "thank
Veda for that." Darr Veter hurriedly turned to his friend Veda, but she took
him by the hand and led him to a woman with whom he was not
acquainted.
"This is Chara Nandi! All of us here are guests of hera and Cart
Sann's, the artist, you know they have been living on this coast for a month
already. They have a portable studio at the other end of the bay."
Darr Veter held out his hand to the young woman who looked at him with
huge blue eyes. For a moment his breath was taken away, there was something
about the woman that distinguished her from all others, something that was
not mere beauty. She was standing between Veda Kong and Evda Nahl whose
natural beauty was refined, as it were, by exceptional intellect and the
discipline of lengthy research work but which nevertheless faded before the
extraordinary power of the beautiful that emanated from this woman who was a
stranger to him.
"Your name has some sort of resemblance to mine," began Darr Veter.
The corners of her tiny mouth quivered as she suppressed a smile.
"Just as you yourself are like me!"
Darr Veter looked over the top of the mass of thick, slightly wavy
black hair that came level with his shoulder and smiled expansively at Veda.
"Veter, you don't know how to pay compliments to the ladies," said
Veda, coyly holding her head on one side.
"Does one have to know that deception is no longer needed?"
"One does," Evda Nahl put in, "and the need for it will never die out!"
"I'd be glad if you'd explain what you mean," said Darr Veter, knitting
his brows.
"In a month from now I shall be giving the autumn lecture at the
Academy of Sorrow and Joy, and it will contain a lot about spontaneous
emotions, but in the meantime..." Evda nodded to Mven Mass who was
approaching them.
The African, as usual, was walking noiselessly and with measured tread.
Darr Veter noticed that the tan on Chara's cheeks became tinged with pink as
though the sun that had permeated her body were bursting out through her
tanned skin. Mven Mass bowed indifferently.
"I'll bring Renn Bose here, he's sitting over there on a rock."
"We'll all go to him," suggested Veda, "and on the way we'll meet
Miyiko. She's gone for the diving apparatus. Chara Nandi, are you coming
with us?"
The girl shook her head.
"Here comes my master. The sun has gone down and work will soon begin."
"Posing must be hard work," said Veda, "it's a real deed of valour! I
couldn't."
"I thought I couldn't do it, either. But if the artist's idea attracts
you, you enter into the creative work. You seek an incarnation of the image
in your own body, there are thousands of shades in every movement, in every
curve! You have to catch them like musical notes before they fly away."
"Chara, you're a real find for an artist!"
"A find!" A deep bass voice interrupted Veda. "And if you only knew how
I found her! It's unbelievable!"
Artist Cart Sann raised a big fist high in the air and shook it. His
straw-coloured hair was tousled by the wind, his weather-beaten face was
brick-red and his strong hairy legs sank into the sand a though they were
growing there.
"Come along with us, if you have time," asked Veda, ''and tell us the
story."
'"I'm not much of a story-teller. But still, it's an amusing tale. I'm
interested in reconstructions, especially in the reconstruction of various
racial types such as existed in ancient days, right up to the Era of
Disunity. After my picture Daughter of Gondwana met with such success I was
burning with ambition to reincarnate another racial type. The beauty of the
human body is the best expression of race after generations of clean,
healthy life. Every race tin the past had its detailed formulas, its canons
of beauty I that had been evolved in days of savagery. That is the way we,
the artists, understand it, we who are considered to be lagging behind in
the storm of the heights of culture. Artists always did think that way,
probably from the days of the palaeolithic cave painter. But I'm getting off
the track.... I had planned another picture, Daughter of Thetis, of the
Mediterranean, that is. It struck me that the myths of ancient Greece,
Crete, Mesopotamia, America, Polynesia, all told of gods coming out of the
sea. What could be more wonderful than the Hellenic myth of Aphrodite, the
goddess of love and beauty. The very name, Aphrodite Anadiomene, the
Foam-Born, she who rose from the sea.... A goddess, born of foam and
conceived by the light of the stars in the nocturnal sea-what people ever
invented a legend more poetic...."
"From starlight and sea-foam," Veda heard Chara whisper. She cast a
side glance at the girl. Her strong profile, like a carving from wood or
stone, was like that of some woman of an ancient race. The small, straight,
slightly rounded nose, her somewhat sloping forehead, her strong chin and,
most important of all, the great distance from the nose to the high ear-all
these features typical of the Mediterranean peoples at the time of antiquity
were reflected in Chara's face.
Unobtrusively Veda examined her from head to foot and thought that
everything in her was just a little "too much." Her skin was too smooth, her
waist too narrow, her hips too wide. And she held herself too straight so
that her firm bosom became too prominent. Perhaps that was what the artist
wanted, strongly defined lines?
A stone ridge crossed their path and Veda had to correct the impression
she had only just received: Chara Nandi jumped from boulder to boulder with
an unusual agility, as though she were dancing.
"She must have Indian blood in her," decided Veda. "I'll ask her later
on."
"My work on the Daughter of Thetis," the artist continued, "brought me
closer to the sea, I had to get a feeling for the sea since my Maid of
Crete, like Aphrodite, would arise from the waves and in such a manner that
everybody would understand it. When I was preparing to paint the Daughter of
Gondwana I spent three years at a forestry station in Equatorial Africa.
When that picture was finished I took a job as mechanic on a hydroplane
carrying mail around the Atlantic-you know, to all those fisheries and
albumin and salt works afloat on big metal rafts in the ocean.
"One evening I was driving along in the Central Atlantic somewhere to
the west of the Azores where the northern current and the counter-current
meet. There are always big waves there, rollers that come one after another.
My hydroplane rose and fell, one moment almost touching the low clouds and
next minute diving deep into the trough between the rollers. The screw raced
as it came out of the water. I was standing on the high bridge beside the
helmsman. And suddenly ... I'll never forget it!
"Imagine a wave higher than any of the others that raced towards us. On
the crest of this giant wave, right under the low ceiling of rosy-pearl
clouds stood a girl, sunburned to the colour of bronze. The wave rolled
noiselessly on and she rode it, infinitely proud in her isolation in the
midst of that boundless ocean. My boat was swept upwards and we passed the
girl who waved us a friendly greeting. Then I could see that she was
standing on a surf board fitted with an electric motor and accumulator."
"I know the sort," agreed Darr Veter, "it's intended for riding the
waves."
"What amazed me most of all was her complete solitude -there was
nothing but low clouds, an ocean empty for hundreds of miles around, the
evening twilight and the girl carried along on the crest of a giant wave.
That girl...."
"Was Chara Nandi," said Evda Nahl. "That's o