The space station Elysian Fields orbited silently eastward over the Mother World. Below, the vast planet was a profounder black against the unfathomable inkiness of the void. Within the life-sustaining confines of the station's hub Commander Adam Union pressed several gaily colored buttons on his master console. Three-tenths of a second elapsed before the Elysian Fields' computer flashed an answer to his request on his viewer. He made a mental note of the information, erased it, and stood up. With a short, precise command he placed his Lieutenant Commander in charge and left the control area.

Through corridor after corridor he strode purposefully. Past many bulkheads he went, and up and down sets of ladders. At last, he stopped before a door marked CX229. Applying a pass key, he entered. Then he opened the panoramic visiport, donned sun goggles, and extinguished the lights. There he sat in darkness, facing the visiport.

The station soared ever eastward. All below was in darkness, all above was night. Then, ever so slowly, ever so majestically, there began to appear along the edge of the planet below a crescent of sparkling light. It grew and grew, steadily increasing in brightness and clarity. The rim of the world seemed as if on fire, and the glow pervaded and flooded the compartment in which Commander Union sat. He gazed enraptured, as the celestial fire crept outward and upward over the edge of his native world. The glow became bright, dazzling, and then radiant. Then, as the Elysian Fields reached a certain point in its orbit, the planet's sun arose over the rim of the world. Even with his goggles the man was forced to squint at the power and glory of its appearance. In its golden flood he heard the glorious and tremendous music of the Universe, a sound not to be heard but felt within the soul. As the celestial symphony reverberated through his being, Commander Union thought: "This is how it must have been at the creation of the All!" and he sat in humble awe before meaningless Meaning.