Jeserac, however, appeared to be in command of the situation. He gave an inquiring look at Eriston and Etania, satisfied himself that they had nothing more to say, and launched forth on the dissertation he had waited many years to make.

«Alvin,» he began, «for twenty years you have been my pupil, and I have done my best to teach you the ways of the city, and to lead you to the heritage which is yours. You have asked me many questions, and not all of them have I been able to answer. Some things you were not ready to learn, and some I did not know myself. Now your infancy is over, though your childhood is scarcely begun. It is still my duty to guide you, if you need my help. In two hundred years, Alvin , you may begin to know something of this city and a little of its history. Even I, who am nearing the end of this life, have seen less than a quarter of Diaspar, and perhaps less than a thousandth of its treasures.»

There was nothing so far that Alvin did not know, but there was no way of hurrying Jeserac. The old man looked steadfastly at him across the gulf of centuries, his words weighed down with the uncomputable wisdom acquired during a long lifetime’s contact with men and machines.

«Tell me, Alvin,» he said, «have you ever asked yourself where you were before you were born-before you found yourself facing Etania and Eriston at the Hall of Creation?»

«I assumed I was nowhere-that I was nothing but a pattern in the mind of the city, waiting to be created-like this.»

A low couch glimmered and thickened into reality beside Alvin. He sat down upon it and waited for Jeserac to continue.

«You are correct, of course,» came the reply. «But that is merely part of the answer-and a very small part indeed. Until now, you have met only children of your own age, and they have been ignorant of the truth. Soon they will remember, but you will not, so we must prepare you to face the facts.