The process was inverted, but the product was the same.
Following my line of reasoning, I saw that the examination of the history of Earth planet prepared the way for those who would become Barter guildsmen, but it took me no further along my own search for understanding. The histories began and ended on Earth planet, with no mention of how the city came to be on this world, nor how the city had been built, nor about who its founders were and where they came from.
A deliberate omission? Or forgotten knowledge?
I imagined that many guildsmen had tried to construct their own patterns of logic, and for all I knew either the answers were available somewhere in the city, or there was a commonly accepted hypothesis which I had not yet encountered. But I had fallen naturally into the ways of the guildsmen. Survival on this world was a matter of initiative: on the grand scale, by hauling the city northwards away from that zone of amazing distortion behind us, and on the personal scale by deriving for oneself a pattern of life that was self-determined. Future Denton was a self-sufficient man, and so had been most of those I had met. I wanted to be one with them, and comprehend things on my own account. I supposed that I could discuss my thoughts with Denton, but I chose not to.
The journey northwards was slow and meandering. We did not take a route due north, but followed many diversions to east and west. Periodically Denton would measure our position against optimum, and never at any time were we further north than about fifteen miles.
I asked him if there were any reason why we should not strike even further north of optimum.
“Normally, we would go as far north as we can,” he said. “But the city’s in a special circumstance. As well as seeking the easiest northwards route, we need terrain that will allow us to defend ourselves best.”
The map we were compiling was becoming more complete and detailed every day. Denton allowed me to operate the equipment whenever I wished, and soon I was as adept as he. I learned how to triangulate the land with the surveying instrument, how to estimate the elevation of hills, and how to calculate the distance we were north or south of optimum. I was growing to like working the camera, in spite of the fact I was forced to curb my enthusiasm to conserve the energy in the batteries.
It was peaceful and agreeable away from the tensions of the city, and I discovered that Denton, in spite of his long silences, was an amiable and intelligent man.
I had lost track of the days we had been away, but it was certainly at least twenty. Denton showed no sign of wanting to return.
We encountered a small settlement, nestling in a shallow valley. We made no attempt to approach it. Denton merely marked it on the map, with a rough estimate of the population.
The countryside was greener and fresher than that to which I had grown accustomed, although the sun was no cooler. It rained more often here, usually during the night, and there were many different sizes of streams and rivers.
All the features of the region, natural or man-made, difficult for the city to pass through or suitable to its peculiar needs, Denton marked without comment on his map. It was not the job of the Future Surveyors to decide which route the city should take; we worked simply to establish the actual nature of future terrain.
The atmosphere was restful and soporific, the natural beauty of our surroundings seductive. I knew the city would travel through this region in the miles to come, and pass it without registering appreciation. For the city’s aesthetics, this verdant and gentle countryside might equally be a windswept desert.
During the hours when I was not actually engaged in any of our routine tasks, I was still lost in speculative thought. I could not get out of my mind that spectacle of the manifest appearance of the world on which we existed. There must have been something, somewhere in those long years of tedious education that would, subconsciously, have prepared me for that sight. We live by our assumptions; if one took for granted that the world we travelled across was like any other, could any education ever prepare one for a total reversal of that assumption?
The preparation for that sight had begun the day Future Denton had taken me outside the city for the first time, to see for myself a sun that revealed itself to be any shape but that of a sphere.
But I still felt there must have been an earlier clue.
I waited for a few more days, still worrying at the problem when I found time, then had an idea. Denton and I had camped one evening in open country beside a broad, shallow river, and as sunset approached I took the video camera and recorder and walked alone up the side of a low hill about half a mile away. At the top there was a clear view towards the north-eastern horizon.
As the sun neared the horizon, the atmospheric haze dimmed its glare and its shape became visible: as ever, a broad disk spiked top and bottom. I switched on the camera, and took a long shot of it. Later I replayed the tape, checking that the picture was clear and steady.
I never tired of the spectacle. The sky was reddening, and after the main disk had passed beneath the horizon, the upright pinnacle of light slid quickly down. For a few minutes after its passing there was an impression of a bright focus of orangewhite at the centre of the red glow… but soon this passed and night came on quickly.
I played the tape again, watching the image of the sun on the recorder’s tiny monitor. I froze the picture, then adjusted the brightness control, dimming the image until only the white shape remained.
There in miniature was an image of the world. My world. I had seen that shape before… long before leaving the confines of the crèche. Those weird symmetrical curves made an overall pattern that someone had once shown me.
I stared at the monitor screen for a long time, then conscience struck me and I switched off to conserve the batteries. I did not return to Denton straight away: I was straining my memory for some key to that faint recollection of the time when someone had drawn four lines on a sheet of card, and held up for all to see the place where Earth city struggled to survive.
The map that Denton and I were compiling was taking on a definite shape.
Drawn on the long roll of stiff paper he had brought, the plan took the form of a long, narrow funnel, with its narrowest point at the patch of woodland a mile or so to the north of where the city had been when we left it. Our travels had all been within the funnel, enabling us to make measurements of large features from all sides, to ensure that we compiled information as nearly accurate as possible.
Soon the work was finished, and Denton said that we would return at once to the city.
I had, in the video recorder, a complete and cross-referenced visual record of all the terrain we had covered. In the city, the Council of Navigators would examine as much as they felt necessary to plan the city’s next route. Denton told me that other Futures would go north soon, draw another funnel map of the terrain. Perhaps it too would start at the patch of woodland, and take a course five or ten degrees to east or west, or, if the Navigators felt that a safe route could be found in the terrain we had surveyed, the new map would start further up the known territory, and push forward again the frontier of the future we had surveyed.
We headed back towards the city. I had expected, in some melodramatic way, that now we had the information we had been despatched to obtain, we would ride through day and night with no regard to safety or comfort; instead, the leisurely ride through the countryside continued.