Imperial Earth

System.

By 2176, just a hundred years ago, a substantial fraction of the human race was no longer Earthborn. For the first time we had the assurance

that whatever happened to the mother world, our cultural heritage 286 would not be lost. It was secure until the death of the Sun-and perhaps beyond…. The century that lies behind us has been one of consolidation, rather than of fresh discovery. I am proud that my world has played a major role in this process, for without the easily accessible hydrogen of the Titanian atmosphere, travel between the planets would still be exorbitantly expensive.

Now the old question arises: Where do we go from here? The stars are as remote as ever; our first probes, after two centuries of travel, have yet to reach Proxima Centauri, the Sun’s closest neighbor. Though our telescopes can now see to the limits of space, no man has yet traveled beyond Pluto. And we have still to set foot on far Persephone, which we could have reached at any time during the last hundred years…. Is it, true, as many have suggested, that the frontier has again closed?

Men have believed that before, and always they have been wrong. We can laugh now at those early4wentieth-century pessimists who lamented that there were no more worlds to discover-at the very moment when Goddard and

Korolev and von Braun were playing with their first primitive rockets. And earlier still, just before Columbus opened the way to this continent, it must have seemed to the peoples of Europe that the future could hold nothing to match the splendors of the past.

I do not believe that we have come to the end of History, and that what lies ahead is only an elaboration and extension of our present powers, on planets already discovered. Yet it ca

We should respect the past, but not worship it. While we look back upon the four Cente

will the people of those days 287 remember us? We remember the United States chiefly by Apollo; can we bequeath any comparable achievement to the ages ahead?

There are many problems still to be solved, on all the planets.

Unhappiness, disease-even poverty -still exist. We are still far from

Utopia, and we may never achieve it. But we know that all these problems can be solved, with the tools that we already possess. No pioneering, no great discoveries, are necessary here. Now that the worst evils of the past have been eliminated, we can look elsewhere, with a clear conscience, for new tasks to challenge the mind and inspire the spirit. Civilization needs long-range goals. Once, the Solar System provided them, but now we must look beyond. I am not speaking of ma

You are all familiar with CYCLOPS, the largest radio telescope on Earth.

That was built primarily to search for evidence of advanced civilizations.

It transformed astronomy; but despite many false alarms, it never detected a single intelligent message from the stars. This failure has done much to turn men’s minds inward from the greater universe, to concentrate their energies upon the tiny oasis of the Solar System…. Could it be that we are looking in the wrong place? The wrong place, that is, in the enormously wide spectrum of radiations that travel between the stars.

All our radio telescopes have searched the short waves-centimeters, or at most, meters-in length. But what of the long and ultra long waves-not only kilometers but even mega meters from crest to crest? Radio waves of frequencies so low that they would sound like musical notes in our ears could detect them.

We know that such waves exist, but we have never been able to study them, here on Earth. They are blocked, far out in the fringes of the

Solar Sys term, by tho gale of electrons that blows forever from the Sun. To know what the universe is saying with these vast, slow undulations, we must build radio telescopes of enormous size, beyond the limits of the Sun’s own billion-Hometer-deep ionosphere-that is, at least as far out as the orbit of Saturn. For the first time, this is now possible.

For the first time, there are real incentives for doing so…. We tend to judge the universe by our own physical size and our own time scale; it seems natural for us to work with waves that we could span with our arms, or even with our fingertips. But the cosmos is not built to these dimensions; nor, perhaps, are all the entities that dwell among the stars.

These giant radio waves are more commensurate with the scale of the Milky

Way, and their slow vibrations are a better measure of its eon-long

Galactic Year. They may have much to tell us when we begin to decipher their messages.

How those scientist-statesmen Franklin and Jefferson would have welcomed such a project! They would have grasped its scope, if not its technology for they were interested in every branch of knowledge between heaven and Earth.

The problems they faced, five hundred years ago, will never rise again. The age of conflict between nations is over. But we have other challenges, which may yet tax us to the utmost. Let us be thankful that the universe can always provide great goals beyond ourselves, and enterprises to which we can pledge our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.

Duncan Makenzie closed the beautifully designed souvenir book-a masterpiece of the printer’s art, such as had not been seen for centuries and might never be seen again. Only five hundred copies had been produced—one for every year. He would carry his back in triumph to Titan, where for the rest of his life it would be among his most cherished possessions. Many people had complimented him on his speech, enshrined forever in these pages-and, much more accessibly, in lib aries and information banks throughout the Soar System. Yet he had

felt embarrassed to receive those plaudits, for in his heart be knew that he had not earned them. The Duncan of a few weeks ago could never have conceived that address; he was little more than a medium, passing on a message from the dead. The words were his, but all the thoughts were Karl’s.

How astonished, he told himself wryly, all his friends on Titan must have been, when they watched the ceremony! Perhaps it had been slightly inappropriate to use such a forum as this for what might be considered self-serving propaganda-even special pleading on behalf of his own world.

But Duncan had a clear conscience, and as yet there had been no criticism on this score. Even those who were baffled by his thesis had been grateful for the excitement he had injected into all the routine formalities.

And even if his speech was only a seven-day wonder to the general public, it would not be forgotten. He had planted a seed; one day it would grow—on barren Mnemosyne.

Meanwhile, there was a slight practical problem, though it was not yet urgent. This splendid volume, with its thick vellum, and its tooled leather binding, weighed about five kilograms.

The Makenzies hated waste and extravagance. Tt would be pleasant to have the book on the voyage home, but excess baggage to Titan was a hundred so lars a kilo…. It would have to go back by slow boat, on one of the empty tankerS-UNACCOMPANIED FREIGHT, MAY BE STOWED IN

VACUUM….

THE MIRROR OF THE SEA