And again came the gentle thrilling, and broke out into a clear, low
calling in my brain; and the calling was my name--the old-earth name of
this day, and not the name of that age. And the name smote me, with a
frightenedness of fresh awakening memories. And, immediately, I sent the
Master-Word into the night; and all the aether was full of movement. And
a silence came; and later a beat afar off in the void of night, which
only I in all that great Redoubt could hear, until the heavier
vibrations were come. And in a moment there was all about me the
throbbing of the Master-Word, beating in the night a sure answer. Yet,
before this I knew that Mirdath had called; but now had surety. And immediately, I said "Mirdath," making use of the instruments; and
there came a swift and beautiful answer; for out of the dark there stole
an old love-name, that she only had ever used to me. And, presently, I minded me of the men, and signed to them that they
should continue; for the Records must not be broken; and now I had the
communication full established. And by me stood the Master Monstruwacan, quietly as any young
Monstruwacan, waiting with slips to make any notes that were needful;
and keeping a strict eye upon those others; but not unkindly. And so,
for a space of wonder, I had speech with that girl out in the darkness
of the world, who had knowledge of my name, and of the old-earth
love-name, and named herself Mirdath. And much I questioned her, and presently to my sorrow; for it seemed
that her name was not truly Mirdath; but Naani; neither had she known my
name; but that in the library of that place where she abode, there had
been a story of one named by my name, and called by that sweet love-name
which she had sent out somewhat ruthless into the night; and the girl's
name had been Mirdath; and when first she, Naani had called, there had
come back to her a cry of Mirdath, Mirdath; and this had minded her so
strangely of that olden story which had stayed in her memory; that she
had answered as the maid in that book might have answered. And thus did it seem that the utter Romance of my Memory-love had
vanished, and I stood strangely troubled for sorrow of a love of olden
times. Yet, even then I marvelled that any book should have story so
much like to mine; not heeding that the history of all love is writ with
one pen. Yet, even then in that hour of my strange, and quaintly foolish pain,
there came a thing that set me thrilling; though more afterwards, when I
came to think afresh upon it. For the girl who spoke to me through the
night made some wonder that my voice were not deeper; yet in quiet
fashion, and as one who says a thing, scarce wotting what they say. But
even to me then, there came a sudden hope; for in the olden days of this
Present Age my voice had been very deep. And I said to her that maybe
the man in the book was said to have had a deep tone of speech; but she,
seeming puzzled, said nay; and at that I questioned her the more; but
only to the trouble of her memory and understanding. And strange must it seem that we two should talk on so trivial a matter,
when there was so much else that we had need to exchange thought upon;
for were a man in this present day to have speech with those who may
live within that red planet of Mars within the sky, scarce could the
wonder of it exceed the wonder of a human voice coming through that
night unto the Great Redoubt, out of all that lost darkness. For,
indeed, this must have been the breaking of, maybe, a million years of
silence. And already, as I came to know later, was the news passing
downward from City to City through all the vast Pyramid; so that the
Hour-Slips were full of the news; and every City eager and excited, and
waiting. And I better known in that one moment, than in all my life
before. For that previous calling, had been but vaguely put about; and
then set to the count of a nature, blown upon over-easily by
spirit-winds of the half-memory of dreams. Though it is indeed true, as
I have set down before this, that my tales concerning the early days of
the world, when the sun was visible, and full of light, had gone down
through all the cities, and had much comment and setting forth in the
Hour-Slips, and were a cause for speech and argument. Now concerning the voice of this girl coming to us through the darkness
of the world, I will set out that which she had to tell; and this,
indeed, but verified the tellings of our most ancient Records, which had
so long been treated over lightly: There was, it would seem, somewhere
out in the lonesome dark of the Outer Lands, but at what distance none
could ever discover, a second Redoubt; that was a three-sided Pyramid,
and moderate small; being no more than a mile in height, and scarce
three quarters of a mile along the bases. When this Redoubt was first builded, it had been upon the far shore of a
sea, where now was no sea; and it had been raised by those wandering
humans who had grown weary of wandering, and weary of the danger of
night attacks by the tribes of half-human monsters which began to
inhabit the earth even so early as the days when the half-gloom was upon
the world. And he that had made the plan upon which it was builded, was
one who had seen the Great Redoubt, having lived there in the beginning,
but escaped because of a correction set upon him for his spirit of
irresponsibility, which had made him to cause disturbance among the
orderly ones in the lowest city of the Great Redoubt. Yet, in time, he too had come to be tamed by the weight of fear of the
ever-growing hordes of monsters, and the Forces that were abroad. And so
he, being a master-spirit, planned and builded the smaller Redoubt,
being aided thereto by four millions, who also were weary of the harass
of the monsters; but until then had been wanderers, because of the
restlessness of their blood. And they had chosen that place, because there they had discovered a sign
of the Earth-Current in a great valley which led to the shore; for
without the Earth-Current no Refuge could have existence. And whilst
many builded and guarded, and cared for the Great Camp in which all
lived, others worked within a great shaft; and in ten years had made
this to a distance of many miles, and therewith they tapt the
Earth-Current; but not a great stream; yet a sufficiency, as was
believed. And, presently, after many years, they had builded the Pyramid, and
taken up their refuge there, and made them instruments, and ordained
Monstruwacans; so that they had speech daily with the Great Pyramid; and
thus for many long ages. And the Earth-Current then to begin to fail; and though they laboured
through many thousands of years, they came to no better resource. And so
it was they ceased to have communication with the Great Redoubt; for the
current had a lack of power to work the instruments; and the recording
instruments ceased to be sensible of our messages.