Free Galaxies Like Grains of Sand by Brian W. Aldiss Page B

drama had always been of life, of procreation, of waves breaking on wild and prospering shores.
    The oblate spheroid grew in their windows as they watched with unkeen eyes. It flashed a recognition signal, flicked on a fresh course, dived, unrolling behind it one long white vapour breaker down the wan air. Then it touched their hull, discharged momentum in a hiss, and was steady.
    A screw turned, a door widened. Their daughter, Cobalt Ilsont, came to them, smiling, taking their hands. She was sturdy and beautiful and bright, her eyes blue, her curls copper, her cheeks lean and freckled. She spoke in a voice they found loud. Perhaps she believed they were deaf.
    “I’ve two days leave from Union so I thought I’d get away and come and visit you. How are you both? You look well and, Wangust, you look more elegant than ever.”
    She kissed her mother’s cheek and her father’s forehead. “You should have come by portmatter instead of indulging in aerobatics.”
    Cobalt laughed. “You don’t know what the younger generation is coming to, do you, Hwa?”
    They ate a delicate meal where they were, suspended over the Earth, allowing evening to flood in below them. In their glasses was a tawny wine and with the wine went silver carp and damson tart — a small abundance.
    Afterwards, Cobalt insisted that they flew back in her machine to catch a glimpse of her city, her growing city of Union.
    It was growing fast. Both Chun Hwa and Wangust could see how it had grown. It spread along the coast. There were new harbours and ships moored there. A new pier, its lights already burning, pointed out across the grey ocean.
    “And there’s our fishing fleet,” Cobalt said, indicating where small lights dotted the sea. “They are sowing as well as reaping. The fish is good and quite plentiful now. Oh, it’s all so wonderful. And do you know, if we flew out across this ocean, we’d see no more lights for seven thousand miles. This is only the beginning.” She added inconsequentially, “Next winter solstice, we are starting a new calendar in Union. To mark the New Age. Everything’s going to be better from now on. Union’s going to be the greatest city in the world, and the Solites are going to have to cease thinking of themselves as savages. We’ve now got two reading schools in operation, for adults as well as children.”
    She stared down proudly at the city. Though darkness was coming on fast, they could see raw gashes in the hillsides, where new roads and new houses were being created.
    “It is wonderful,” said Wangust.
    But Chun Hwa said irritably, “You are mouthing parroted phrases, Cobalt. ‘Everything’s going to be better from now on...’ We used to say that back in my time, and look what happened. The Solites have always been a happy people, enjoying a close relationship with Nature. You’re going to change all that. Solites don’t need information when they have wisdom. Information drives out wisdom. Their skills are better than all book-learning. You deceive yourself if you believe that cities can create happiness.”
    “You shouldn’t discourage her,” Wangust said.
    After a moment’s silence, Cobalt said, “Hwa, you helped start all this. You first sowed the sterile seas with life which we are now culling. Why turn against the things you once fought for? Union will be a happy city, creatively happy. We are barbarians with inherited machines — should we not attempt to be something more?” She turned to her mother for support. “What do you say? Haven’t we all lived in wildernesses long enough? Someone must rebuild the world. The Vehicularies went out into the galaxy and, if machines can do it, then we certainly can.”
    Wangust shook her head. “The future is with your generation, my dear. You must decide.”
    “We have decided.” Setting her mouth, she turned the vessel for home. The lights and the ocean faded from view behind them.
     
    His first reflections next morning were confused and