of material
form, no doubt the shapes and forms of things were paramount to them.
Well then, show them the true relationship, sketch out upon the sands
the diagram of how the forces that control the shapes of things are
interwoven, interact.

Before the kneeling men, the cabalistic diagrams took shape, and lo, a
spring of water flowed from dry and barren stone.

But man saw only shape of diagram, its cabalistic lines and form. A
sacred thing, a magic thing, a sign that he might draw with finger in
the air or in the sand, protection from the evil forces that surrounded
him.

The sentient fields of force withdrew. Too soon, too soon. Man was not
ready for communication. Too soon, too soon.

But man did not forget, the memory lived on. And fathers spoke to sons,
and made the outer forms of gestures, drew the cabalistic signs, and
told of magic things and powers that these signs could do. To some, one
diagram was shown, a way to build a house of stone that better weathered
the storms of Earth. The house of stone became a holy place, a thing
existing in its own right, and not, as was intended, an example of one
use to which this arrangement of forces might be put.

And to some other man another diagram was shown, this time to slay an
animal for food. And men fought wars over these differing symbols, each
side determined to make its symbol ascendant over the other.

Deep within the Asian land where contact had been made, the memories
lived on, and some of the meaning of the diagrams beyond their outer
shape had gained sway. The racial memory persisted, and in the latter
Pleistocene epoch the knowledge of altering shapes through force of mind
became a racial memory, coalesced into cults of belief, degenerated into
forms and phrases; but from generation to generation the memory was kept
alive that once, when the world was new, the form of things was indeed
changed by thought. This holy man, far away and long ago, had pointed
his finger at a tree, and lo! a beautiful nymph had stepped forth clad
in jewels and coins to make him rich. This hero climbed a mountain and a
voice spoke unto him, and proof of this were letters cut in stone.
Well-witnessed, this divine one changed some water into wine, and fed a
multitude from five small loaves and fishes.

A kind of radiation of its own, always the cults who sought the inner
meanings formed within that Asian land and spread outward through the
world.

But out on the periphery,