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need to forget. The race had found an aim. It was going to create something that would outlast itself. It was going to achieve its immortality after all.

five Rich
    The atmosphere at   the Great Glade startled Clovis Marca more than he had been startled by the news of the alien ship. There was an air of profound happiness here...
    As he drifted down and saw the unexpected expressions on people’s faces, heard the great warm wash of sound without hearing the words, he wondered if perhaps the news of the ship had proceeded him. But why should the news receive such an odd reception?
    He saw Narvo Velusi’s old face smiling, saw the white-maned head nodding, the hand waving, the eyes shining. And then Fastina—she looked so beautiful that he felt afraid. Whatever he learned, nothing would ever explain Fastina’s expression. It was too big. Too big.
    He tried to remember Narvo’s scheme. A message. A big broadcast through space. That could not be it, surely. The idea had been idealistic, certainly, but pointless. As he landed, he made out the words.
    “WE ARE HERE!”

    So it was Narvo’s scheme that had affected them. And he, Clovis Marca, humanitarian, philosopher, man of good will, respected First Citizen of Earth, was completely unimpressed.
    He sat down. His face was blank and stiff, his body rigid. What had happened to him? What had he become? Was he so changed that an idea that could sway the rest of humanity left him unmoved?
    Clovis Marca felt ashamed at first. Then he felt angry at himself, and shocked. That expression on Fastina’s face—whatever emotion it was she felt, it dwarfed any personal vision he might have, any emotion he might experience. All this went through him swiftly until he was calm again.
    7 will go on with it, he told himself coldly. I will go on with it in spite of everything. But even as he made the decision, he realised that he had irrevocably lost something and with the losing of it he knew that he would never understand what it was. Never again.
    He got up then and he spoke in a very calm voice.
    “May I speak?”
    Slowly they quieted, but he could sense their exhilaration still. They silenced their shout in respect to him, their First Citizen. Noble Clovis Marca who deserved their sympathy though they did not know it.
    He was still polite, still civilised, still the man of integrity and strength.
    “I am sincerely sorry to interrupt you—I realise the impact that Narvo’s message has had on you—I share your enthusiasm— ”
    Fastina and Narvo turned to look at him then. They gave him a faintly puzzled look. They had caught something in his tone, perhaps, or his choice of words.
    “I share your enthusiasm—but there is more news.” He waited for a moment, feeling barren. The only fire that drove him was that of his ambition. No longer was he moved by love, hatred, desire of any kind, but one—one desire, the desire he must keep secret or lose the respect of them all. And he still needed that respect, must use it, for they would help him so long as they did not realise what it was he sought.
    “There is more news,” he repeated, forcing himself to continue coherently. “A ship has been sighted coming towards Earth. It is an extraterrestrial ship—that is a non-human ship ...”
    The assembly received the news with excited interest, but not with the same stunned emotion with which he had received it. The assembly was moved, certainly, but not sufficiently. He wanted them to hate the intrusion of the ship as much as he did. He called: “An alien ship,” and then, against his better judgment. “It could even be an invasion craft.”
    But this did not alarm them.
    Yulof’s voice came in his earbead. “The ship’s land-in, Clovis. It’s landing in the sea off the coast of Sector 1005—the American West Coast.”
    “The ship is landing in the sea,” Clovis said. He told them where.
    Narvo slapped him on the shoulder. “Now I know what’s troubling you. Don’t worry,