Ever since he had set out on this journey, Niall had entertained the notion of spending a final night in the burrow, sleeping on his own bed. But as he sat in front of the camp-fire, wrapped in a blanket — for the night was already cold, and a wind had sprung up from the north-west — he knew that he would find it impossible to sleep underground; he had become too accustomed to the sensation of the wind against his face. He and Veig sat apart from the others, eating and drinking sparingly, finding it hard to believe that they were back in the desert, and that so much had happened in the three months since this place had been their home. But as the sailors sang their melancholy ballads — their own way of showing respect for the man whose white cheekbones now reflected the rising moon — their eyelids drooped, and memories of the past blended pleasantly with daydreams of the future. They drew closer to the fire, pulled their blankets round their shoulders, and sank into dreamless sleep. And the sailors, weary from their long day’s march, soon lapsed into silence, then into slumber.
Niall was awakened by the crackling of flames. Someone had tossed a creosote bush into the dying embers of the fire. It was Simeon, who was now sitting cross-legged, a fur cloak wrapped around his shoulders. Somewhere out in the darkness, a large creature moved across the stones; from its clumsy movements, Niall guessed it to be a large male scorpion, weighted down with oversized claws. It had probably been watching them, wondering if it was safe to attack; now it retired discreetly into the night.
Niall turned on his back and looked up at the stars. The Steegmaster had taught him to distinguish the major stars and constellations: the pole star, the Great Bear and the Little Bear, the Dog and the Lion. The pole star was now close to the northern horizon, with the Great Bear above it: that meant that it was about two hours to dawn. He traced a line through the central stars of the Bear, and found Vega, also close to the horizon. It glittered in the clear desert air like a blue diamond. A hundred and fifty million years ago, the great explosion had hurled the spores of the empress plants towards the solar system. What had happened to the plants that remained on AL3? Had they now achieved the ultimate goal of their evolution and become superbeings? Or had they vanished and been replaced by some other species?
On the southern horizon he could distinguish Scorpius and Libra; just below the horizon lay Centaurus. Niall thought of the men who lived in that distant constellation. According to the Steegmaster, the climate of New Earth was in many ways similar to that of our own planet, and the ratio of oxygen to nitrogen in its atmosphere was almost exactly the same. Its men had set up colonies on other planets of their system, and even built a domed city on its airless moon.
But Steeg had so far told him nothing about the history of these pioneers, and it had not occurred to Niall to enquire. Now, as he lay staring at the sky, he was suddenly consumed with curiosity, and he formulated a hundred questions. Were there other intelligent life forms on New Earth? Were its men and women able to live without conflict? Had they remained physically unchanged in their new environment? Had they any natural enemies? Did they have trees and plants like those on earth? And seas and rivers? But above all, had they succeeded in solving those persistent problems of human nature that had made man’s history such a disappointing record of brutality and stupidity? Had the flight from earth and the hardships of creating a new civilisation taught them to shake the mind awake, and to prevent it from falling asleep again?
For this, he could now see, was the central problem of human beings. When they were faced with perils and difficulties, they fought magnificently. But as soon as they had conquered, they lost all the ground they had gained; they sank into laziness and became the victims of triviality. They seemed to be unable to maintain a sense of urgency. It was as if they were all suffering from sleeping sickness. If the men of New Earth had solved this problem, they would be more like gods than human beings. . .
Simeon threw more wood on to the fire. Niall pushed himself up into a sitting position. Simeon asked:
“Like a hot drink?”
Niall nodded. He crawled over to the fire, and huddled there with the blankets wrapped around him; the desert wind was like a knife. Simeon was spooning a mixture of dried herbs into boiling water. A pale light was already appearing on the eastern horizon.
“Have you been awake all night?”
“No. Something woke me up — something with red eyes.” Simeon gestured towards the organ pipe cacti.
“Probably the brown scorpion that lives under the rock. It nearly ate Mara when she was a baby.”
Simeon grimaced with disgust. “I think I prefer civilisation.”
They sat warming their hands on the hot mugs, breathing in the fragrant steam. The wind was blowing the underside of the logs into an orange heat, and the effect was hypnotic. For a while, each was involved in his own thoughts. Then Simeon said:
“Have you ever wondered why the Spider Lord took so much trouble to pretend she was a male?”
“Because a Spider Lord is more frightening than a Spider Lady.”
Simeon grunted. “I find them both about as bad.”
“All the same, we all think men are more capable of evil than women. And for some reason, human beings seem to admire people who terrify them.”
Simeon said drily: “That’s a sad admission.”
“I learnt it in the white tower. The chief thing that struck me about human history is that most of the great leaders were homicidal maniacs. They even gave them names like Ivan the Terrible and Abdul the Damned, and it was supposed to be a compliment. The more frightening they were, the more people admired them. Human beings can be incredibly stupid.”
Simeon gave him an amused sideways glance.
“Then wouldn’t it have been better to leave them under the domination of the spiders?”
“No. Because no matter how stupid men are, they still need freedom. It’s only through freedom they can become less stupid. They learn through trial and error. They need to be allowed to make their own mistakes. They need to think out their own problems. Do you really think they’d be better off as slaves of the spiders?” There were times when Simeon seemed to enjoy being exasperating.
“No. But you said yourself that you were sick of them banging their heads on the pavement every time you walked past.”
“Yes, and that’s the strange paradox of human nature. They want freedom more than anything in the world, yet as soon as they’ve got it, they want to give it away to some leader. They’re always looking around for somebody to admire.” The subject had been on Niall’s mind a great deal during the past few weeks. “It’s because all human beings crave a sense of purpose. And because they don’t have a purpose of their own, they want to hand over their freedom to somebody who can give them one. But that doesn’t mean they’re better off without freedom. It only means they’ve got to learn to look for purpose inside themselves.”
“And how do you teach them to do that?”
“I don’t know. Sooner or later, I’ll find a way.”
Simeon said blandly: “I thought you didn’t like being the ruler?”
Niall shrugged. “I don’t. It’s hard work. But somebody has to do it. Somebody has to show them how to organise their lives, and rebuild their city, and educate their children. The spiders tried to breed the intelligence out of them. I suppose my job is to try to breed it back into them. If I could do that, they wouldn’t need a ruler.”
Simeon shook his head firmly. “They’ll always need a ruler. Because a ruler’s an excuse for laziness, and even intelligent men can be lazy. I’m not being cynical. The more you do for them, the more they’ll revere and admire you, and insist on looking up to you. They enjoy banging their heads on the pavement. Why do you think they want to put your father’s bones in a vast mausoleum? So they’ve got somebody else to revere and admire.”
The remark startled Niall. He turned and looked at the coffin. Its handles of polished gold were glittering in the first rays of the rising sun. But the empty eye sockets of the skull were still pools of darkness. Niall laughed suddenly and stood up.
“Yes, of course you’re right. I was stupid not to see it.”