But the first humans he saw were men like himself and those in the
valley. Men who pointed at places while others squinted in that
direction through strange instruments. He wished he could follow the
talk, but the men pronounced words differently and used many he had
never heard. He had to use his eyes instead of his ears.
* * * * *
They started to work right where he was--he recognized the outlines of
the ridges about them--but it was done by no giant extending his hand
and showering magic. Big machines dug away the ground. Other things
with no visible means of locomotion brought building materials up a
broad road where there was not even a path now. A little man, graying
and wrinkled, answered questions of their invisible guide, and, as he
did, he gave directions to others. Was he one of the Old Ones, not as
large as himself, no older than his father?
Behind him on the screen the building Henry was in was going up. And
men were making it, ordinary men, not magic.
Were the Old Ones just ordinary men, their magic not strange words and
motions but machines they manipulated with their hands and feet? They
were not gods, just men who had begun to learn sitting in the little
chairs in the learning house.
He watched them dig the trenches from the groves-to-be to the hidden
storage bins, put in the pipes lined with gravity-repellent barumal,
lay the snakelike cables that he had seen occasionally where erosion
had exposed them. He saw the building of Town, the Master's houses and
the final planting of the groves. The record ended.
Henry remained staring at the blank screen until Theta nudged him and
brought him back to the present.
The white line led on, past large offices on one side, on the other
windows looking down into a vast storeroom that contained parts for
repairing everything in the valley. The Old Ones knew that, some day,
things would start breaking down and had prepared for it. They had not
prepared for life dropping into routine, interest in progress being
lost.
What need was there to spend years in school when everything was
already done for you?
The picture had shown some buildings close to the cliffs on one side
that looked like the apartment houses in Town. They broke through the
brush and found one.
Other than for dust it was in good condition. The food bins were
filled, but the contents had dried to the hardness of stone. As soon as
they were emptied they began to refill; but it was two days of constant
emptying before eatable fruit began to appear.
By the end of a week they had the rooms they needed cleaned and some of
the brush about the place cut clear.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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