Part 25 (2/2)

”I had to make the monkey-things into a fully mature, sapient species from the very beginning. I doubt that they're really successful in evolutionary terms- they don't have much ambition or aggression. But they have some interesting ideas about the meaning of life.”

”Do not be so sure that these folk are unsuccessful, Saburo Imhotep. They may outlast us all.”

He smiles, and in his own rudimentary Inner Voice I sense the satisfaction of a job done well. ”Now if you don't mind, could you move outside the screens tell the rest of the Hlutr what you've found? I don't relish being under a death sentence.”

”Let us take down your screen, Saburo Imhotep, and your creatures may tell the Hlutr themselves.”

”It will take a while.”

I spread my song outward, and it is answered by the monkey-things by a profound melody that is joy itself. I wish nothing more than to lose myself in communion with these new minds. There is so much to learn. But first, I remind myself, I must answer Imhotep.

”I can wait.”

Music calls, and I surrender.

PART ELEVEN: Piper.

Once more Hlutr roots drink deep of Terran soil.

I am third. The first was the Traveler, chosen by the Elders to live his strange life in exile. The second was our amba.s.sador to New York, who spoke to the First Terran Empire and watched over the ruin of Earth.

I am third.

Since I broke soil a Terran century ago I have known what I am: the Elders bred me specially for life on this fair blue globe, and I would not feel at home on any other planet, not even lost Paka Tel.

It is time for Humans to come home.

Twice seventy centuries ago, Mankind lost his home world. It was in the time of the Long Winter, when my Little Ones almost left the Universal Song. Hlutr intervention saved them; but the path to Earth was lost, and none would rediscover it in all the millennia since.

At first it was easy. My brothers and sisters on surrounding worlds had only to put forth the barest effort, and approaching travelers turned away from golden Sol without knowing they did so.

Later Humans were more sophisticated, and it was necessary to establish an actual curtain around the planet. In the high days of the Second Empire even that curtain could not serve, and the telepaths of Aveth.e.l.l moved in. The Aakad da'Estra, too, aided us.

Twice seventy centuries and more, my brothers and sisters labored to keep Mankind's home safe and undisturbed.

Daamin biologists worked slowly, healing the scars of this battered world. That work took half a thousand Human generations. By the time Man reached his true maturity, his native world had been reclaimed.

Then Iaranori craftsmen and Kreen historians rebuilt the monuments and cities of vanished ages; Dorascan scientists brought modern technology to the planet without disturbing its ecological balance; and finally, the Hlutr sent my seed to be planted in the fertile soil of this beautiful valley.

At last, Humankind has matured; the children of Terra have left behind their empires and their wars, and have taken their place among the civilized races of the Scattered Worlds.

It is time for these children to come home.

And I must bring them here.

The Galactic Riders have been busy, restoring to Terra all the art treasures which have been held in trust in the Museum of Worlds on Nephestal. Yet there is sadness: for each wonderful creation saved from destruction, seventy are dust.

Still, we of the reclamation crew are happy with what remains. We have built a museum here in the valley, as much for the returning Humans as for ourselves. And I cannot help a small feeling of pride- even in their violent childhood, my adopted children created works of art that have delighted the Scattered Worlds. I understand that the Council had quite a struggle to get the Unicorn Tapestries and Lisa del Gioconda away from the Master of the Museum.

Everything is ready; it is time.

My brothers and sisters have been busy already, under my direction. For the last century we have sung a song of homecoming, and more often the thoughts of Humans have turned to lost Terra. Several major expeditions have set out to find the lost globe...but we have prevented them, until everything was right.

Until now.

Just over one million Humans live in the Scattered Worlds today. Many serve the Galaxy as Galactic Riders or in other capacities; more are independent souls on a thousand worlds and settlements throughout s.p.a.ce. Such a throng could never make the pilgrimage to Terra without leaders.h.i.+p, without someone to inspire them.

And the Hlutr, combing through those million minds, listening to the music of each, evaluating...we have found the Leader.

Now beneath the eternal stars, I sing out into the night. All Mankind will hear that song, but one soul will resonate with it, one soul will respond.

Seasons pa.s.s.

Around me the members of the reclamation team bid their farewells to Earth, and one by one they depart. Perhaps my Little Ones will choose to allow nonhuman visitors on their world, or perhaps like the Iaranori they will keep their world for themselves alone- either way, it will be their decision to make. Ours is the gift of Terra: afterwards, the gift is theirs alone.

I am alone, as sun and stars race past, and my song of homecoming echoes across kilopa.r.s.ecs. And across the Galaxy, an incredible migration swells.

They feel the power of the Leader's vision, and even folk who have sworn never to leave their homes find themselves moved by the Leader's words and the song in their hearts. Some will return at once to s.p.a.ce, some will abide here a while and then leave, others will stay forever- but all will walk on Terran soil before they die.

The Leader must show the way.

From Credix to Borshall, from Prein to Marcreni, they gather in starliners, in individual s.h.i.+ps, in family settlements...they gather around New Sardinia, where the a.s.sembly of Humanity awaits their will.

Take us home, says the ma.s.sed will of Mankind.

”I do not know the way,” says the Leader.

Here is the first and most important of the tasks for which I was born. I sing, and the Leader's soul echoes that song. Come to me, Little One.

He comes. And the others, they cannot help but follow.

It is a glorious morning when they arrive. Ten thousand stars.h.i.+ps sing around Terra, a million wondering minds regard a single blue world...and they weep, in happiness for their long-delayed homecoming.

One s.h.i.+p breaks from the orbital formation, one vessel settles slowly toward me. Welcome, I sing, as it touches the gra.s.ses of this place called Oldavai.

For a moment it sits, inert, a silver seed alone beneath the sun. Then it opens, and the Leader emerges. There is both irony and celebration in his ancient words as the first Human foot in fourteen millennia touches Terran soil: ”That's one small step for a man, one giant leap for Mankind.”

It is done. My children are home. I sing thanks to the Elders who made me, to the teachers who taught me, to the Universal Song which has blessed me. Then, singing a song of joy and welcome, I turn to the waiting Leader and speak in Human tongue.

”Welcome home, Kev Mathis.”

The long story of Humankind has begun....

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