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  Before the curving low white cliff of buildings began was a wide belt of market gardens that surrounded the city. There were gardeners there, men and women, who of course took no notice of me, since I seemed one of them. They were a handsome breed, strong brown faces and limbs exposed by light brief garments predominantly blue. Blue was the colour used most in this city for clothes and hangings and ornament, and these blues answered the nearly always cloudless skies of the plateau.

  The Round City showed nothing that was not round. It was a perfect circle, and could not expand: its bounds were what had to be. The outer walls of the outer buildings made the circle, and the side walls, made my way through on a path that was an arc, I saw were slightly curved. The roofs were not flat, but all domes and cupolas, and their colours were delicate pastel shades, creams, light pinks and soft blues, yellows and greens, and these glowed under the sunny sky When I had passed through the outer city, there was a road that also made a complete circle, lined with trees and gardens. There were not many people about. A group sat talking in a garden and again I was seeing strength, health, ease. They were not less sturdy than the workers in the gardens, and this suggested that there was no division here between the physical and mental. I passed close to them, greeting and being greeted, and could see the glisten of their brown skins, and their large eyes, mostly of a full bright brown. The women's head hair was long, brown or chestnut, and dressed in various ways, and decorated with flowers and leaves. They all wore loose trousers and tunics of shades of blue, with some white.

  I passed through another segment of this city into another curved street, which had more people, for there were shops here, and booths and stalls. This street was a complete circle inside the outermost one, and was a market all its way - and like every market I have seen anywhere, was all animation and busyness. Another band of buildings, another street, full of cafes and restaurants and gardens. This was thronged, and a healthier friendlier crowd I have never seen. A pervasive good humour was the note of this place, amiability - and yet it was not clamorous or hectic. And I noted that despite the noise a crowd must produce, this did not impinge on the deep silence that was the ground note of this place, the music in its inner self, which held the whole city safe in its harmonies. More circles of buildings and streets: I was nearing the centre now, and was looking for grandiosities and pomps that are always a sign of the Degenerative Disease. But there was nothing of that kind: when I came out into the one central area, where the public buildings stood, made of the same golden-brown stone, all was harmony and proportion. Not in this city could it be possible for a child being brought by its parents to be introduced to the halls, towers, centres of its heritage, to feel awed and alienated, to know itself a nothing, a little frightened creature who must obey, and watch for Authority. Long sad experience had taught me to watch for this... but on the contrary, anyone walking here, among these welcoming warm-coloured buildings, must feel only the closeness, the match, between individual and surroundings.

  I was not as acclimatised as I should be, to undertake the difficulties of my task... and I was sorrowful, and unable to control it. I sat for a while on the raised edge of a small lake circling a fountain, and watched children playing unafraid among the buildings, women idling in groups, men by themselves, talking, men and women in mixed groups sitting, or walking or strolling. It was all pervaded by the clear light of the plateau and the heat that was not too strong because of the many fountains and trees and flowers. And it was full of the strong quiet purpose which I have always found to be evidence, anywhere - city farm, or groups of people and on any planet - of the Necessity, the ebbs and flows and oscillations of the Lock.

  And yet it was there, just audible, the faintest of discords, the beginnings of the end.

  I had not yet seen any Giants, yet they were here somewhere. I did not want to ask for them, thus revealing myself as an alien, and setting off alarms before it was necessary. I wandered about for some time, and then caught sight of two Giants at the end of an avenue, and went towards them. These were males, both of a deep glossy black colour, both in the same loose blue garments I had seen on the Natives, both concentrated on a task. They were measuring, by means of a device I was unfamiliar with, of wood and a reddish metal, the vibrations of a column of polished black stone that stood where two avenues intersected. The black stone, among so much of the soft honey-coloured stone everywhere, was startling, but not sombre, for its gleam mirrored the blue of the Giants' clothes, and their strong black faces as they moved beside it.

  I have to confess that I was on my guard now, waiting to see how I would be greeted: I was in appearance a Native, and I was never ready to be less than wary about the relations between tutors and taught - well, it was often my official task to be suspicious and to watch for signs of the Disease. I stood quietly waiting a few paces off, looking up to the shoulders of these enormous men: they were more than twice my height, and twice my breadth. When they had finished their task, they saw me as they turned to leave, and at once smiled and nodded - and were still prepared to move off, showing that they did not expect either side to be in need of the other.

  I had satisfied myself that there was no condescension in their manner towards a Native, and now said that I was Johor, from from Canopus.

  They stood looking down at me.

  Their faces were not as easily attractive and warming as those of those amiable people I had been watching and idling among, on my way in to the centre. Of course it is not easy to feel at home with a race different from oneself: there always must be a period of adjustment, while one learns to withstand assaults on one's sense of probability. But here there was so much more! The Giants were at home in the Canopean mind, but had not seen a citizen of Canopus for thousands of years, for we had relied on the reports of these conscientious administrators. And here was Canopus announcing a physical presence, but from the mouth of a Native. As for me, I was surprised to find in myself childishness. Looking up at these immense people was to be reminded of impulses I had not consciously remembered. I wanted to reach for their hands and to be held, supported; wanted to be lifted up to the level of those benign faces, wanted all kinds of comforts and soothings that I did not really want at all - so that I was ashamed, and even indignant. And these conflicts of different levels of memory in me reinforced the woe I was truly feeling, which was because of what I had to say to them. And, besides, I was not well. Normally I would have spent time in Zone Six, as preparation. I was suddenly faint, and the Giants saw it. Before they could hold me up, which they were about to do, and which I did not want, for it would only feed this long-forgotten infant in me, I sat myself down on the plinth of the column, and from this even lower level looked up at these towering men behind whom the trees did not seem much taller, and made myself say, "I have news for you. Bad news."

  "We were told to expect you," was the answer.

  I sat absorbing this, making my faintness an excuse for silence.

  What had they been told to expect? What had Canopus allowed them to know?

  It was not the case that everything in the Canopean mind was instantly the property of the Giant mind - and vice versa. No, it was all more precise and specific than that.

  The aim of the Pre-Lock Phase on Rohanda had been to develop the powers - for want of a better word - of the planet, through the symbiosis of the Giants and the Natives, so that the planet Rohanda, that is, the physical being of the planet itself, could be linked, through the Giant/Native match, with the Canopean System. During this phase, which was so much shorter than had been expected, there had been little mental flow back and forth, Canopus to Rohanda, but there had been occasional flickerings, moments of communication: nothing that could be relied upon, or taken up and developed.

  When the Lock took place, the powers, vibrations (whatever word you like, since all are inaccurate and approximate) of Rohanda were fused with Canopus, and through Canopus with its subsidiaries, planets, and stars.

  But it had no
t been that the very moment the Lock took place the Giant mind had achieved an instant, and total, and steady fusion with Canopus. From that time on, Rohanda was a function of the functioning of Canopus, but nothing could be considered as accomplished and to be taken for granted. The maintenance of the Lock depended on continuous care. First of all, the placing and watching and monitoring of the Stones, which had to be constantly realigned - slightly, of course, but with so many that was an arduous and demanding task. And then the building of the cities; and with each new mathematical entity created and maintained, the Lock was strengthened, and each city had to be watched, adapted, and all this with the aid of the Natives, who were being taught everything, the moment they could take it in. And above all, what was being transmitted was how to watch their own development, and constantly to feed and adjust it, so that what they did would always be in harmony, in phase, with Canopus, the "vibrations" of Canopus.

  Canopean strength was beamed continually into Rohanda. Rohanda's new, always deepening strengths were beamed continually back to Canopus. Because of this precise and expert exchange of emanations, the prime object and aim of the galaxy were furthered - the creation of ever-evolving Sons and Daughters of the Purpose.

  But these interchanges of substance were infinitely varied and variable. The "mind" shared between Rohanda and Canopus did not mean that every thought in every head instantly became the property of everyone at once. What was shared was a disposition, a ground, a necessary mesh, net, or grid, a pattern which was common property, and was not itself static, since it would grow and change with the strengthenings and fallings off of emanations. If one individual wished to contact another, this was done by a careful and specific "tuning in," and thereafter what was communicated was exactly what had been decided would be communicated, no more and no less. So while the Giants were a function of the "mind" of Canopus, they would not know anything that Canopus did not want them to know. Nor were conditions always perfect for exchange of "thought." For instance, there was a period of more than a hundred years when no exchange of specific information was possible, because of interference from a certain configuration in a nearby solar system, temporarily out of phase with Canopus. The interchange of fuels went on, but subtler currents were interdicted until the star in question changed its disposition in the celestial dance.

  "Were you measuring the vibrations of the column for any reason?" I asked at last.

  "Yes."

  "You have noticed something wrong?"

  "Yes."

  "You have no idea of what it might be?" I was eager, as can be seen, to introduce Shammat, for on what I learned would depend so much of planning for the future, but even as I was looking for a way to talk of Shammat, I saw that this was a subject still far off and secondary. The need for haste took hold of me again, and mastered my weakness, so that I struggled up, and faced them.

  "We were told that Emissary Johor would come, and that we must meantime prepare ourselves for a crisis."

  "And that was all?"

  "That was all."

  "Then that means they were even more afraid than I knew they were when I left of information being picked up by enemies," I said. I spoke firmly, and even with desperation, looking up first at one, then the other.

  They did not respond to "enemies." The word fled by them, unmarked, it did not strike home in them anywhere, and here was a weakness that was, that must be, our fault.

  Even while I report in them a flaw, and a serious one, I must record for the honour and the right memories of everyone concerned, how extraordinary a race this was - the Giants, who would soon cease to be, at least in this form. Not because of their physique, their size, their strength! I had worked among large races before. Size did not always go with qualities such as these men possessed. These had something unforgettable. There was a largeness in them, a magnanimity, a scope and sweep of understanding far beyond most of the species we were fostering. There was a deep containment in them, like the deep silence that was the air of this city. They had all the quiet strength of their function - which was service to the best there was and is. Their powerful eyes were thoughtful and observant and again spoke of links and harnessings with forces far beyond, far higher than most creatures could ever dream of. It was not that the Natives were not impressive, in their way; they, too, had thought and observation and above all an abundance of easy warm good humour. But here was something so much more, so much finer. I gazed up into these majestic faces, and it was with recognition: these men gave off the same ring, or note, as the best of Canopus. I knew that with such people I could meet with nothing but Justice, Truth - it was as simple as that.

  "You need to rest, perhaps?" enquired one.

  "No, no, no," I cried, again trying to force into them the urgency I felt. "No, I must talk to you. I will tell you now, if you like, and you can tell the others."

  I saw that it was at last coming home to them that here was something terrible. Again I watched them muster inner strengths. Understanding flowed between these two: here was no need for inferior gestures such as exchanging glances, or meaningful nods.

  In front of us the avenue of trees curved away and slightly down to a cluster of tall white buildings.

  "It will be better if we arrange a gathering of a Ten," said one and forthwith he departed, with strides so long that he was at the end of the avenue in a moment, his immense figure in scale with the buildings he approached, seeming to hold them in proportion.

  "My name is Jarsum," said my companion, and we walked forward. He dawdled and stopped and lingered, while I walked my fastest, but there was no strain here, and I saw that Giants and Natives were in the habit of walking together, and had adapted themselves to this form of companionship.

  When I was near the arrangement of the Giants' buildings, they were certainly tall, but not oppressive; but inside the one we entered, I did feel strained and stretched, for the cylinder seemed to reach up forever above my head, and the seats and chairs were almost my height. Jarsum saw this and he sent instruction through an instrument that a Native-sized chair, table, and bed should be fetched and placed inside a special room that was smaller than the others. Even so, when I came to inhabit it, I found these articles of furniture comical enough, in a Giant-sized room.

  This room, or hall, was used as a meeting place. In a short time, ten Giants had arrived. They sat on the floor, ignoring their usual seating arrangements, and put me on a pile of folded rugs, adjusted so that our faces were at the same level. They sat waiting for me to begin. They looked troubled, but not more than that. I was looking around at these kingly, magnificent beings, and thought that there can be no one so armed against shock that it is not felt, when it comes. And I would have to go slowly stage by stage, even with such beings as these.

  I had to tell them that their history was over. That their purpose here was over. That the long evolution they had so brilliantly conducted and which they had believed was only just beginning - was over. As individuals they had a future, for they would be taken off to other planets. But they would no longer have an existence and a function as they had been taught to see themselves.

  An individual may be told she, he, is to die, and will accept it. For the species will go on. Her or his children will die, and even absurdly and arbitrarily - but the species will go on. But that a whole species, or race, will cease, or drastically change - no, that cannot be taken in, accepted, not without a total revolution of the deepest self.

  To identify with ourselves as individuals - this is the very essence of the Degenerative Disease, and every one of us in the Canopean Empire is taught to value ourselves only insofar as we are in harmony with the plan, the phases of our evolution. What I had to say would strike at everything we all valued most, for it could be no comfort here to be told: You will survive as individuals.

  As for the Natives, there was no message of hope for them, unless the news that there would be a remission in the long-distant future could be called that. Evolution would begin a
gain - after long ages.

  The Giants' reason for being, their function, their use, was the development of the Natives, who were their other halves, their own substances. But the Natives had nothing ahead of them but degeneration... The Giants were in the position of the healthy, or healthier, twin who will be saved in an operation in which the other one must die.

  I had to say all this.

  I said it.

  And waited, for this much to be taken in.

  I can remember how I sat there, ridiculously perched on that heap of rugs, feeling myself a pygmy, watching their faces, and Jarsum's in particular. Now I was on a level with him, I saw that he stood out among the others. This was a man with an extraordinarily strong face, all dramatic curves and hollows, the dark eyes brilliant under the heavy brow ledges, cheekbones jutting and moulded. He was an immensely powerful man, outwardly and inwardly. But he was losing strength as I looked. They all were. It was not lack of fortitude, not that - they were not yet capable of that disobedience to the laws governing us. But as I gazed in awe from face to face I saw them, very slightly, dwindle. There was a lack of power. And I wondered if up on Canopus they were registering this moment and knew by it that I had accomplished what I had been sent for. Partly accomplished: but at least I was past the worst of it.

  I waited. Time had to be allowed for the absorption of what I had said. Time passed... passed...

  We did not speak. At first I believed that this was entirely because of the pain of this news I was bringing, but soon saw that they were waiting for what was in their minds to pulse outwards into the minds first of all of the other Giants in the Round City, and from there - though this would necessarily be in a weaker, vaguer form, would transmit probably no more than feelings of warning, danger, unease - to the Giants of the other Mathematical Cities. This tall cylinder we sat in was a transmitting chamber, constructed to work if it had in it between ten or twelve Giants. Any ten of them would do, male or female, but they had to be trained, and so the very young were not used in this function.