Now and Forever: Somewhere a Band is Playing & Leviathan '99 by Bradbury Ray

Author:Bradbury, Ray [Bradbury, Ray]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Fiction, Modern Classics, Novellas, Novels
Publisher: William Morrow
Published: 2007-01-01T02:00:00+00:00

Later we left our cubicle and went exploring, down into the lower levels of the immense academy.

We walked among the philosophical robots who sat silhouetted among firefly lights to speak in tongues from ancient times.

“Plato,” I said. “Aristotle,” I went on. “Behold us. What do you see?”

And the Plato robot said, “Two terrible and fine, ugly and beautiful children of nature.”

And Quell asked, “Ah, but what is nature?”

Socrates answered, sparks showering, “God surprising himself with odd miracles of flesh.”

And Aristotle, a strange little plastic robot, continued: “And theirs is nothing odder or miraculous, then.”

Quell reached out and touched my forehead with one of his long, finely tufted finger-legs and said, “Ishmael.”

I responded warmly, and touched the downy chest of my new friend. “Quell, from the far islands of the great Andromeda Nebula. Quell.”

“We shall study together,” said Quell.

“Listen together, learn together, explore together,” I added.

And we did indeed listen to the voice of our robot philosopher teachers, who continued to speak in tongues various and strange during the next days, weeks, and months of our training. No one told us where we’d be going, what would be asked of us, or how long we would remain Earth-bound in these vast caverns of learning.

But finally the day came that the robot instructors’ talk, their babble, their murmurs, faded. We arrived at the lecture hall one morning and everything was still. On the video screen were our names, and the words, “Orders received. Report for duty.”

Quell observed, “Our studies appear to be at an end.”

“If so,” I said, “our life begins. Let us find our rocket.”

We returned to our room, where our orders were awaiting us. We collected our gear and, donning our jet-packs, rose into the air and flew. The clouds gave way, the birds parted, and at last we landed at the great launching area of Cape Kennedy. We were surrounded by skyscraper gantries, gleaming rockets, the persistent buzz of intense activity.

I stared around me, stunned by the immense size of it all.

“Look, Quell, there, and there! Rockets! At least two dozen. Listen to the names: Apollo 149, Mercury 77, Jupiter 215. And there …”

Quell finished for me. “The Cetus 7.”

I stared at the gleaming cylinder, towering above all the other craft. “The largest interstellar ship ever built,” I said, in awe.

Quell mused, “I wonder if, in their dreams, your Bach and Beethoven ever built such as these?”

A voice broke our reverie. “They did, oh yes they did.”

We turned to find an old man in a faded astronaut’s suit emerging from the shadow of a gangway. He spoke, saying simply, “Hello, friends.”

Quell must have scanned the stranger’s mind, for he replied, “We are no friends of yours.”

The old man chuckled mirthlessly and continued. “You’re quick to judge me, telepath. Be quicker still. Is the Cetus 7 to be your ship?”

“It is,” I replied.

The old man groaned. “Ah, you tread the rim of the Abyss. Pull back, if you know what’s good for you.”

Quell uttered a curse from his far world and pulled at my elbow.

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