It must be done very subtly, she’d told him long before. So subtly that had he not left the City, it could not have been done at all, not, in any case, in his era. Yet the data contained in that small capsule would make the difference between descent into a permanent Stone Age and ultimate rise to Federation level. It was for this the alien elder had come on that long-ago morning, not merely to probe his mind. The decision had been made then; and the Service had gone away in the certainty that he, Noren, would search out all the knowledge accessible to him.
The Dark Era drew to its close. The people of all villages were inoculated; their unquickened land was sown; they knelt with joy beside the streams of their land while Scholars blessed the water in Noren’s name. The people dipped in their hands and drank gladly, knowing themselves one with the earth, with the fruits it could bring forth. And though they still revered the City, they looked to it no more for sustenance.
The Technicians moved from the Outer City to new villages beyond its walls, for the Outer City was not livable any longer. Its power and air conditioning were gone, no water was piped in, all metal that had been used there was sent back into the sky. Every day the shuttle rose and returned. Gradually, the towers too were abandoned, except for the Hall of Scholars where the computer complex was preserved; the Scholars still in the City slept in the open courtyard. The water purification plant was shut down, and no one noted the day on which no more water came through the conduits to village cisterns.
No City goods were now sold in the markets, for there was no longer any way of manufacturing anything beyond what could be made of stone, clay, fiber, wicker and hide. To these crafts the former Technicians turned, taught by village masters, and village craftsworkers thus earned Technician rank. Furthermore, all people in the world could earn it by a few weeks’ labor at lakeside mines. It extended to their children, so that in the next generation no one of lesser status would be left. Only the Scholars remained apart, as priests; but it was made known that their offspring did not succeed them. Henceforth priesthood would be an honor to be sought freely, though still attained through mysterious ordeals to which one must submit of one’s own will.
Through the years of the starship’s refitting, Noren continued to live in Providence, supervising the work there and the training of those who went to other lakes. He had sworn not to enter the Gates until they could remain open, which till the ship was equipped, could not happen. And perhaps he no longer minded exile; he can hardly have wanted to see the City’s lifeblood drained. Bit by bit, all he valued within was taken—finally even the computer complex, which had provided the instructions for restoring interstellar travel, was spilt into components. All that would be left, once the ship had gone, was a climate-controlled data storage vault maintained with minimum power. The City would stand as an empty shell.
Most Scholars did not grieve over this. They were afire with enthusiasm for the space expedition. A large majority were going; among those with scientific training, few but the aged would stay behind. It was a perilous venture, to be sure, and there could be no hope of quick return, for unless they found an alien civilization—which Noren privately knew they would not—supplies were not sufficient for a two-way trip. They would have to build an outpost on a new planet, and stay there many years while they utilized its metal to establish mining and manufacturing facilities. Not on this world only, but on myriad worlds of innumerable suns shall the spirit of the Star abide. . . . Metal would, of course, be returned to their people once large-scale mining capability had been developed and more starships recommissioned. But perhaps, too, new worlds would prove more habitable than the old. Many might choose to emigrate to planets with richer resources. The Star might already be visible there, if those planets were within a smaller radius from the nova—priests who were now alive might set eyes upon it! And so might the children of the new race already born. Meanwhile, the world was safe; the stars beckoned; and the Scholars were content. Only the Scholar Noren stood apart.
The Scholars will go back into the sky from whence they once came, he had prophesied, and by the time of the Star’s appearance, they will return; and there will be a new Founding. And from that day forward, our world will be as the Prophecy promises.
But Noren would not live to see that day. In his time, the world would be far poorer than before, since all but remnants of its technology must go with the ship—and only he could lead the people through that hard age. Only from him would they continue to believe the promise.
He could not go with the ship himself.
It is not certain when this knowledge came to him. Perhaps he knew from the start, from the hour he first held the star chart in his hands and perceived the unlooked-for outcome of his endeavors: the doors of the universe would be opened for his people within his own lifetime. Yet it was his dream, his most cherished wish, and through him it had come to pass . . . must he not have felt, at least for a little while, that the universe might be opened for him also?
He never confessed this, except perhaps to Lianne. He kept working. There was time for one last genetic project before the computer complex was dismantled, and as his final act as a scientist, he gave the world trees. For them to have sturdy trunks was not possible with the shrub species available to start from; had this not been so, he would have aimed for a wood-based technology in years past. But dense thickets could someday provide shade. Knowing from Lianne what a lakeshore settlement should look like, he planted masses of them beside the water, hiding the ugly traces of the completed mining. They were, naturally, mere seedlings, and in a land where tall plants were unknown, his prophecies about what they’d become were soon mixed with legend.
The time of embarkation came. Having endured the departure of her own people’s starship, Lianne was well prepared to uphold him through the farewell rites, which were formal and were held before the Gates. It was a day of rejoicing. Noren filled the role expected of him, and no one noticed that she kept closer than usual to his side. When in the end the Scholar Stefred came to them, with sorrow in his eyes unlike any before seen there, Noren perceived that he was not glad to go; for him, too, the hour of parting was bitter. “Why?” Noren asked. “Why leave this place against your wish when you cannot live to return to it? We will need priests here; who will judge their worthiness and teach them to dream?”
“Lianne can do that,” Stefred replied. “This is my world, and for its people I’ve lived; I would not choose to die in exile. But my presence here would tear it asunder. The Scholars staying are loyal to me, while the people are loyal to you—and it is you who are most fit to be Archpriest.”
So at last, when the shuttle had ascended on its final trip, the Gates of the City were thrown open, never again to be sealed; and the Scholar Noren went in to his tabernacle. It was a symbol still, a holy place, a place not to be defiled by the people now free to enter. He would see that they entered with reverence. He stood with Lianne between the silent towers that could not, in their time, be relighted; crescent moons illumined the courtyard. And Noren knew he had now come into his own.
#
Afterword
Today’s readers may perhaps think of a way that the people of Noren’s world might have been enabled to survive without the drastic system imposed by the Scholars. But in 1972, when the first book of this trilogy This Star Shall Abide was published, science was not as far advanced as it is now, and I myself was unaware of any other way. I believed that there was no alternative to what the Scholars did; if I had not, I wouldn’t have written two novels (that one and its sequel Beyond the Tomorrow Mountains) that endorsed it—for of course, I would not have sanctioned it on any lesser basis than my conviction that the extinction of their human race would have been worse. So when, some years later, I learned of a new possibility, I was dismayed. I feared that new readers would assume that I had ignored it for plot reasons and had knowingly justified the social evils in the story on false grounds. For that reason, I then wrote this novel to explain why
the Scholars’ knowledge had been incomplete.
Because of the possibility that readers might think it ends with the first or second book, I have been reluctant to reissue the three novels separately. I was happy that Meisha Merlin put all three together in one volume, Children of the Star, when they were republished. However, I have found that many people hesitate to choose such a long book as that. Furthermore, This Star Shall Abide can be enjoyed by younger readers than the other two, which are rarely of interest to those below high school age. (Though all three were originally marketed as Young Adult books, the single-volume edition was issued as adult science fiction.) Teachers and others who wanted a story suitable for middle-school kids didn’t want to buy the whole trilogy. I have therefore issued its three parts simultaneously but separately as ebooks, plus the first book alone in paperback. There are no present plans for paper editions of the second book or this one.
However, although Meisha Merlin has gone out of business and Children of the Star is officially out of print, new copies can still be obtained from me and at Amazon.com. So while they last, you can get a paper edition of the whole trilogy if you want one. All three ebooks will remain available in EPUB, MOBI and PDF formats as well as for Amazon’s Kindle.
There is a detailed FAQ page about the trilogy at www.sylviaengdahl.com/noren.htm. Parts of it contain major spoilers, but it’s clearly marked so that you won’t see them before you’ve read This Star Shall Abide. I hope you’ll go there, as it deals with questions that are often raised by the story. It includes the commentary that was given to librarians at the time this book was first published, which offers some ideas for discussion.
UK readers may be wondering why, when the first book appeared there in 1973, its title was Heritage of the Star. American and UK editions often have different titles because of their publishers’ preferences, which is confusing now that books are available internationally on the Internet.
The text of the new editions is identical to the Meisha Merlin edition, which was revised slightly from the original, mainly to remove outdated statements about computer technology. —Sylvia Engdahl, January 2010
About the Author
“Between 1970 and 1981 Sylvia Louise Engdahl published six sf novels ostensibly for young adults but more challenging (and better written) than almost all of the material published at the time for the adult market. . . . Yet for some reason the public—aside from a select group of aficionados—largely ignored Engdahl’s work, and it’s only within the past few years that it’s been rediscovered as the treasure trove it is.” —Fantasy Magazine, 2006
Sylvia Engdahl is the author of eight science fiction novels. Six of them are Young Adult books that are also enjoyed by adults, all of which were originally published by Atheneum and have been republished, in both hardcover and paperback, by different publishers in the twenty-first century. The one for which she is best known, Enchantress from the Stars, was a Newbery Honor book, winner of the 1990 Phoenix Award of the Children’s Literature Association, and a finalist for the 2002 Book Sense Book of the Year in the Rediscovery category.
Her two newest novels, Stewards of the Flame and its sequel Promise of the Flame, are not suitable for Young Adult audiences but will be enjoyed by the many adult fans of her work. More information about them, including a video trailer and a book group discussion guide, can be found at www.adstellaebooks.com.
Engdahl lives in Eugene, Oregon with two companionable cats. Currently she works as a freelance copyeditor and editor of nonfiction anthologies. She welcomes visitors to her website www.sylviaengdahl.com and e-mail to [email protected].
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Afterword
About the Author
The Doors of the Universe Page 37
