At a mere two-kilometer altitude, it was quite cold. At the summit, three kilometers higher, it must be freezing.
As he slowly shuffled forward in the rather subdued and sleepy line of visitors, Morgan noted with amusement that he was the only one not carrying a camera. Where were the genuine pilgrims? he wondered. Then he remembered; they would not be here. There was no easy way to heaven, or nirvana, or whatever it was that the faithful sought. Merit was acquired solely by one’s own efforts, not with the aid of machines. An interesting doctrine, and one containing much truth; but there were also times when only machines could do the job.
At last, he got a seat in the car, and with a considerable creaking of cables they were on their way. Once again, Morgan felt that eerie sense of anticipation. The elevator he was planning would hoist loads more than ten thousand times as high as this primitive system, which probably dated right back to the twentieth century. And yet, when all was said, its basic principles would be much the same.
Outside the swaying car was total darkness, except when a section of illuminated stairway came into view. It was completely deserted, as if the countless millions who had toiled up the mountain during the last three thousand years had left no successor. But then Morgan realized that those making the ascent on foot would already be far above on their appointment with the dawn; they would have left the lower slopes of the mountain hours ago.
At the four-kilometer level the passengers had to change cars and walk a short distance to another cable station, but the transfer involved little delay. Now Morgan was glad of his coat, and wrapped its metalized fabric closely around his body. There was frost underfoot, and already he was breathing deeply in the thin air. He was not at all surprised to see racks of oxygen cylinders in the small terminus, with instructions for their use prominently displayed.
And now at last, as they began the final ascent, there came the first intimation of the approaching day. The eastern stars still shone with undiminished glory—Venus most brilliantly of all—but a few thin, high clouds began to glow faintly with the coming dawn. Morgan looked anxiously at his watch, and wondered if he would be in time. He was relieved to see that daybreak was still thirty minutes away.
One of the passengers suddenly pointed to the immense stairway, sections of which were occasionally visible beneath them as it zigzagged back and forth up the mountain’s now rapidly steepening slopes. It was no longer deserted; moving with dreamlike slowness, dozens of men and women were toiling painfully up the endless steps. Every minute, more and more came into view. For how many hours, Morgan wondered, had they been climbing? Certainly all through the night, and perhaps much longer—for many of the pilgrims were quite elderly, and could hardly have managed the ascent in a single day. He was surprised to see that so many still believed.
A moment later, he saw the first monk—a tall, saffron-robed figure moving with a gait of metronome-like regularity, looking neither to the right nor to the left, and completely ignoring the car floating above his shaven head. He also appeared capable of ignoring the elements, for his right arm and shoulder were bare to the freezing wind.
The cable car was slowing down as it approached the terminus. Presently it made a brief halt, disgorged its numbed passengers, and set off again on its long descent. Morgan joined the crowd of two or three hundred people huddling in a small amphitheater cut in the western face of the mountain. They were all staring out into the darkness, though there was nothing to see but the ribbon of light winding down into the abyss. Some belated climbers on the last section of the stairway were making a final effort, as faith strove to overcome fatigue.
Morgan looked again at his watch; ten minutes to go. He had never before been among so many silent people. Camera-carrying tourists and devout pilgrims were united now in the same hope. The weather was perfect; soon they would know if they had made this journey in vain.
There came a delicate tinkling of bells from the temple, invisible in the darkness a hundred meters above their heads; and at the same instant, all the lights along that unbelievable stairway were extinguished.
Now they could see, as they stood with their