very unusual shape in two quite independent contexts; it might have been mere coincidence, and the sense of déjà vu pure self delusion. That was the simple, logical answer, which would certainly satisfy
everyone else.
It would never satisfy Duncan. He had experienced that indescribable shock a man may know only
once in a lifetime, when he is in the presence of the transcendental and feels the sure foundations of his world and his philosophy trembling beneath his feet.
When he saw that careful drawing in Karl's sketchbook, Duncan had recognized it at once. But now it
seemed to him that the recognition came not only from the past, but also from the future. It was as if he had caught a momentary glimpse in the Mirror of Time, reflecting something that had not yet occurred —
and something that must be awesomely important for it to have succeeded in reversing the flow of
causality.
Project Argus was part of the destiny of mankind; of this, Duncan was now sure beyond any need for
rational proof. But whether it would be beneficial was another question. All knowledge was a two-edged sword, and it might well be that any messages from the stars would not be to the liking of the human race.
Duncan remembered the dying cries of the sea urchin he had killed, out there on Golden Reef. Were
those faint but sinister crepitations wholly meaningless — an accidental by-product? Or did they have
some more profound significance? His instincts gave him not the slightest clue, one way or the other.
But it was an act of faith to Duncan and to those he had worked with all his life, that it was cowardice not to face the truth, whatever it might be and wherever it might lead. If the time was coming for
mankind to face the powers behind the stars, so be it. He had no doubts. All he felt now was a calm
contentment — even if it was the calm at the center of the cyclone.
Duncan watched the light trembling and dancing on the lagoon, as the sun sank lower and lower
toward the horizon and the hidden coast of Africa. Sometimes he thought he could see, in those flaring, coruscating patterns, the warning beacons of Argus, staking a claim to the billions of cubic kilometers of space they enclosed — fifty or a hundred years from now...
Changing shape even as Duncan watched, the Sun kissed the horizon and spread out a crimson, bell-
shaped skirt across the sea. Now it looked like the film of an atomic blast — but run backward, so that the fires of hell sank harmlessly into the ocean. The last golden arc of the departing disc lingered on the edge of the world for an instant, and at the very second it disappeared there was a momentary flash of green.
As long as Duncan lived, he might never see such heartbreaking beauty again. It was a memory to
take back to Titan, from the island on which he had made the great decision of his life and opened the next chapter in he story of the outer worlds.
Part Four
Titan
43
Homecoming
It was over. All the good-byes had been said to crew and passengers, all the formalities had been
completed, everything he had brought from Earth was already moving along the conveyor belt.
Everything, that is, except for the most important gift of all.
He could walk through that door marked TITAN CITIZENS, and he would be home. Already, he had
forgotten the crippling gravity of Earth; that — and so much else — was fading into the past like a
dissolving dream. This was where he belonged and where his life's work would be done. He would never
again go sunward, though he knew there would be times when some remembered beauty of the mother
world would drive a dagger into his heart.
The family must be waiting, there in the reception lounge, and now, with only seconds before the
moment of reunion, Duncan felt a reluctance to face the whole Makenzie clan. He let the other travelers go hurrying past him, while he stood irresolutely, trying to pluck up his courage and clutching his
precious bundle awkwardly to his chest. Then he moved forward, under the archway, and out on to the
ramp.
There were so many of them! Malcolm and Colin, of course, Marissa, more beautiful and desirable
than even in his most recent dreams, now free of Calindy forever; Clyde and Carline — could she really have grown so much, in so short a time? And at least twenty nephews and nieces whose names he knew
as well as his own, but just couldn't recall at the moment.
No — it was impossible! But there she was, standing a little apart from the others, leaning heavily on her cane, yet otherwise completely unaltered since he had last seen her on the cliffs of Loch Hellbrew.
Much else had changed indeed if Grandma Ellen had returned to Oasis for the first time in fifty years.
As she saw Duncan's astonished gaze, she gave a barely perceptible smile. It was more than a
greeting; it was a signal of reassurance. She already knows, thought Duncan. She knows and approves.
When the full fury of the Makenzies breaks upon my head, I can rely on her...