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It was not pleasant walking through the Stones. I felt the begi
Before the curving low white cliff of buildings began was a wide belt of market gardens that surrounded the city. There were gardeners there, men and women, who of course took no notice of me, since I seemed one of them. They were a handsome breed, strong brown faces and limbs exposed by light brief garments predominantly blue. Blue was the colour used most in this city for clothes and hangings and ornament, and these blues answered the nearly always cloudless skies of the plateau.
The Round City showed nothing that was not round. It was a perfect circle, and could not expand: its bounds were what had to be. The outer walls of the outer buildings made the circle, and the side walls, made my way through on a path that was an arc, I saw were slightly curved. The roofs were not flat, but all domes and cupolas, and their colours were delicate pastel shades, creams, light pinks and soft blues, yellows and greens, and these glowed under the su
I passed through another segment of this city into another curved street, which had more people, for there were shops here, and booths and stalls. This street was a complete circle inside the outermost one, and was a market all its way - and like every market I have seen anywhere, was all animation and busyness. Another band of buildings, another street, full of cafes and restaurants and gardens. This was thronged, and a healthier friendlier crowd I have never seen. A pervasive good humour was the note of this place, amiability - and yet it was not clamorous or hectic. And I noted that despite the noise a crowd must produce, this did not impinge on the deep silence that was the ground note of this place, the music in its i
I was not as acclimatised as I should be, to undertake the difficulties of my task... and I was sorrowful, and unable to control it. I sat for a while on the raised edge of a small lake circling a fountain, and watched children playing unafraid among the buildings, women idling in groups, men by themselves, talking, men and women in mixed groups sitting, or walking or strolling. It was all pervaded by the clear light of the plateau and the heat that was not too strong because of the many fountains and trees and flowers. And it was full of the strong quiet purpose which I have always found to be evidence, anywhere - city farm, or groups of people and on any planet - of the Necessity, the ebbs and flows and oscillations of the Lock.
And yet it was there, just audible, the faintest of discords, the begi
I had not yet seen any Giants, yet they were here somewhere. I did not want to ask for them, thus revealing myself as an alien, and setting off alarms before it was necessary. I wandered about for some time, and then caught sight of two Giants at the end of an avenue, and went towards them. These were males, both of a deep glossy black colour, both in the same loose blue garments I had seen on the Natives, both concentrated on a task. They were measuring, by means of a device I was unfamiliar with, of wood and a reddish metal, the vibrations of a column of polished black stone that stood where two avenues intersected. The black stone, among so much of the soft honey-coloured stone everywhere, was startling, but not sombre, for its gleam mirrored the blue of the Giants' clothes, and their strong black faces as they moved beside it.
I have to confess that I was on my guard now, waiting to see how I would be greeted: I was in appearance a Native, and I was never ready to be less than wary about the relations between tutors and taught - well, it was often my official task to be suspicious and to watch for signs of the Disease. I stood quietly waiting a few paces off, looking up to the shoulders of these enormous men: they were more than twice my height, and twice my breadth. When they had finished their task, they saw me as they turned to leave, and at once smiled and nodded - and were still prepared to move off, showing that they did not expect either side to be in need of the other.
I had satisfied myself that there was no condescension in their ma
They stood looking down at me.
Their faces were not as easily attractive and warming as those of those amiable people I had been watching and idling among, on my way in to the centre. Of course it is not easy to feel at home with a race different from oneself: there always must be a period of adjustment, while one learns to withstand assaults on one's sense of probability. But here there was so much more! The Giants were at home in the Canopean mind, but had not seen a citizen of Canopus for thousands of years, for we had relied on the reports of these conscientious administrators. And here was Canopus a