Free Clarke, Arthur C - Fall of Night 02 by Beyond the Fall of Night Page A

so
widely differing in culture and history, this was indeed a name of magic. In
all the long story of Earth there had been no greater epic than the defense of
Shalmirane against an invader who had conquered all the Universe.
                   Presently Theon's voice came again out of the
darkness.
                   "The people of the south could tell us
more. We will ask them on our way back."
                   Alvin scarcely heard him: he was deep in his own
thoughts, remembering stories that Rorden had told him long ago. The Battle of
Shalmirane lay at the dawn of recorded history: it marked the end of the
legendary ages of Man's conquests, and the beginning of his long decline. In
Shalmirane, if anywhere on Earth, lay the answers to the problems that had
tormented him for so many years. But the southern mountains were very far away.
                   Theon must have shared something of his
mother's powers, for he said quietly:
                   "If we started at dawn, we could reach
the fortress by nightfall. I've never been there, but I think I could find the
way."
                   Alvin thought it over. He was tired, his feet
were sore, and the muscles of his thighs were aching with the unaccustomed
effort. It was very tempting to leave it until another time. Yet there might be
no other time, and there was even the possibility that the actinic explosion
had been a signal for help.
                   Beneath the dim light of the failing stars, Alvin wrestled with his thoughts and presently
made his decision. Nothing had changed: the mountains resumed their watch over
the sleeping land. But a turning-point in history had come and gone, and the
human race was moving toward a strange new future.
                   The sun had just lifted above the eastern wall
of Lys when they reached the outskirts of the
forest. Here, Nature had returned to her own . Even
Theon seemed lost among the gigantic trees that blocked the sunlight and cast
pools of shadow on the jungle floor. Fortunately the river from the fall flowed
south in a line too straight to be altogether natural, and by keeping to its
edge they could avoid the denser undergrowth. A good deal of Theon's time was
spent in controlling Krif, who disappeared occasionally into the jungle or went
skimming wildly across the water. Even Alvin, to whom everything was still so
new, could feel that the forest had a fascination not possessed by the smaller,
more cultivated woods of northern Lys . Few
trees were alike: most of them were in various stages of devolution and some
had reverted through the ages almost to their original, natural forms. Many
were obviously not of Earth at all—perhaps not even of the Solar System.
Watching like sentinels over the lesser trees were giant sequoias, three and
four hundred feet high. They had once been called the oldest things on Earth:
they were still a little older than Man.
                   The river was widening now: ever and again it
opened into small lakes, upon which tiny islands lay at anchor. There were
insects here, brilliantly colored creatures swinging aimlessly to and fro over
the surface of the water. Once, despite Theon's shouts, Krif darted away to
join his distant cousins. He disappeared instantly in a cloud of glittering
wings, and the sound of angry buzzing floated toward them. A moment later the
cloud erupted and Krif came back across the water, almost too quickly for the
eye to follow. Thereafter he kept very close to Theon and did not stray again.
                   Toward evening they caught occasional glimpses
of the mountains ahead. The river that had been so faithful a guide was flowing
sluggishly now, as if it too were nearing the end of its journey. But it was
clear that they could not reach the mountains by nightfall: well before sunset
the forest had become so dark that further progress was impossible. The great
trees