The two outer, and more distant, spheres seem to be much less violent places, yet in some ways they are even more mysterious. When darkness falls upon their surfaces, they too show patches of light, but these are very different from the swiftly changing fires of the turbulent inner world. They burn with an almost steady brilliance, and are concentrated in a few small areas – though over the generations, these areas have grown, and multiplied.
But strangest of all are the lights, fierce as tiny suns, that can often be observed moving across the darkness between these other worlds. Once, recalling the bioluminescence of their own seas, some Europans had speculated that these might indeed be living creatures; but their intensity makes that almost incredible. Nevertheless, more and more thinkers believe that these lights – the fixed patterns, and moving suns – must be some strange manifestation of life.
Against this, however, there is one very potent argument. If they are living things, why do they never come to Europa?
Yet there are legends. Thousands of generations ago, soon after the conquest of the land, it is said that some of those lights came very close indeed – but they always exploded in sky-filling blasts that far outshone the Sun. And strange, hard metals rained down upon the land; some of them are still worshipped to this day.
None is as holy, though, as the huge, black monolith that stands on the frontier of eternal day, one side forever turned to the unmoving Sun, the other facing into the land of night. Ten times the height of the tallest Europan – even when he raises his tendrils to the fullest extent – it is the very symbol of mystery and unattainability. For it has never been touched; it can only be worshipped from afar. Around it lies the Circle of Power, which repels all who try to approach.
It is that same power, many believe, that keeps at bay those moving lights in the sky. If it ever fails, they will descend upon the virgin continents and shrinking seas of Europa, and their purpose will be revealed at last.
The Europans would be surprised to know with what intensity and baffled wonder that black monolith is also studied by the minds behind those moving lights. For centuries now their automatic probes have made a cautious descent from orbit – always with the same disastrous result. For until the time is ripe, the monolith will permit no contact.
When that time comes – when, perhaps, the Europans have invented radio and discovered the messages continually bombarding them from so close at hand – the monolith may change its strategy. It may – or it may not – choose to release the entities who slumber within it, so that they can bridge the gulf between the Europans and the race to which they once held allegiance.
And it may be that no such bridge is possible, and that two such alien forms of consciousness can never coexist. If this is so, then only one of them can inherit the Solar System.
Which it will be, not even the Gods know – yet.