As he led his colleagues – the directors of the world's half-dozen most famous museums, three eminent anthropologists, the heads of two media empires – down into the pit, Del Marco wondered if such a distinguished group of men and women had ever been so silent, for so long. But that was the effect that this ebon rectangle had on all visitors, as they realized the implications of the thousands of artefacts that surrounded it.

For here was an archaeologist's treasure-trove – crudely-fashioned flint tools, countless bones – some animal, some human – and almost all arranged in careful patterns. For centuries – no, millennia – these pitiful gifts had been brought here, by creatures with only the first glimmer of intelligence, as tribute to a marvel beyond their understanding.

And beyond ours, Del Marco had often thought. Yet of two things he was certain, though he doubted if proof would ever be possible.

This was where – in time and space – the human species had really begun.

And this Monolith was the very first of all its multitudinous gods.

9 – Skyland

'There were mice in my bedroom last night,' Poole complained, only half seriously. 'Is there any chance you could find me a cat?'

Dr Wallace looked puzzled, then started to laugh.

'You must have heard one of the cleaning microts – I'll get the programming checked so they don't disturb you. Try not to step on one if you catch it at work; if you do, it will call for help, and all its friends will come to pick up the pieces.'

So much to learn – so little time! No, that wasn't true, Poole reminded himself. He might well have a century ahead of him, thanks to the medical science of this age. The thought was already beginning to fill him with apprehension rather than pleasure.