Table of Contents
prologue
i
chapter 1
chapter 2
ii
chapter 3
chapter 4
chapter 5
iii
chapter 6
iv
chapter 7
v
chapter 8
chapter 9
vi
chapter 10
chapter 11
chapter 12
chapter 13
vii
chapter 14
viii
chapter 15
chapter 16
chapter 17
ix
chapter 18
chapter 19
chapter 20
chapter 21
x
chapter 22
xi
chapter 23
xii
chapter 24
chapter 25
chapter 26
chapter 27
chapter 28
xiii
chapter 29
xiv
chapter 30
xv
- prologue -
Hiller of the planet Mipas had always been an enthusiast about Earth history. He wasn't alone in that regard; many of the residents of Mipas shared the interest. Earth history had become something of a fad. But Hiller specialized in one particular aspect of Earth activity and culture, and that was the great art of mountain climbing.
It was a practice that was virtually unknown among the Mipasians. Not that there was a lack of mountains on Mipas; far from it. There were several particularly impressive ranges, including some that rivaled those scaled by the immortal Sir Edmund Hillary, someone for whom Hiller felt a particular closeness thanks to the similarity in their names.
However, no one on Mipas had ever displayed the slightest interest in endeavoring to scale any of these peaks. All in all, Mipasians weren't an especially aggressive race-they preferred to live their lives peacefully and avoid the notice of the more aggressive and bellicose races that populated the galaxy.
Hiller, though, felt the urge to tackle the mountains.
They seemed to taunt him, their peaks shrouded in cloud and mystery. It was said that gods resided up there. Hiller didn't lend much credence to that theory, but nevertheless he simply knew that, sooner or later, he was going to have to try to find out for himself.
" Why? " his friends would ask him. " What is this need? Why this driving ambition to clamber up the side of a protruding geographic formation, at great personal risk? " Hiller would always give the exact same response. He would toss off a salute with one tentacle and declare, "Because it's there. " He was rather proud of that quote, having come across it in his studies.
Now Hiller was on the verge of accomplishing his most ambitious feat. He was in the midst of essaying a climb up.
. . the Big One. The Mipasians had never bothered to name their mountains.
This one was dubbed the Big One for convenience' sake, simply because it was the biggest mountain around. Many days had Hiller climbed it. Many times had he nearly fallen to his death, dangling by the tentacles before continuing his long, slow, and oozing way up the side. And finally, after many perilous days and nights, he had nearly reached his goal. He had broken through the clouds, and was using a breathing device to aid in his ascent, since the air at the mountaintop was quite thin.
He felt giddy. A child's wonder possessed him, as he wondered whether he would indeed witness the surprised expressions of the gods, gaping at him, when he managed to reach the peak.
And then, as he stopped for a moment to rest, he heard something. It was a deep, sonorous sound that at first seemed to be coming from everywhere. It echoed from all the rock walls, its origin impossible to discern. Hiller looked around with frustration, then plunged a tentacle into his pack and extracted a viewer. Mist and clouds hovered all around him, but the viewer could easily punch through and give him a clear idea of what, if anything, lay in the vicinity.
