by Perry Rhodan
"Do you mean to say by that that one actually experiences whatever one is dreaming? I can't believe that."
"Isn't this here proof enough for you?"
Rhodan did not say anything. He had to admit his failure. He could not quite comprehend what the Immortal had been trying to explain. Rhodan however was aware of the fact that dreams constituted a not yet entirely solved phenomenon which kept raising many questions! But the Immortal's words had opened up new perspectives which seemed so horrendous that Rhodan didn't dare ponder any further. In his dreams, that was incontestable, man acquired abilities he did not possess during his waking hours. He could conquer gravity, could rise into the skies at will, could read other men's thoughts and if necessary could even make himself invisible or teleport matter. Why could he perform all these acts when there was no reason to assume that he might have that potential hidden inside himself?
Had he ever possessed these gifts in the far, far distant past?
"We are about to land," the Immortal's voice interrupted his speculations. "The Barkonides are a nation firmly welded together in the sense of a true galactic civilization. They have one capital city and only one central government which, because of their gigantic project consists mainly of scientists. This will save us a lot of work."
"Do I... do we have to be afraid of any hostile acts?"
"I've already told you that they will regard us as a gift from heaven. Never in your life will you have been welcomed with such fervor and hospitality, although this sounds paradoxical. After all, we are dealing here with a race that never had any contact with other races—at least not for the last million years. They have one thing, however, which no other people in the universe could boast of: an uninterrupted history with authentic data and evidences. In their archives films are kept which were made at a time when on Terra the appearance of the first man was still a far off dream of the future."
"Films—older than mankind?"
"For these films alone it would be a pity if that race were to perish."
The little ship descended into the planet's atmosphere and circled around this world with several mach. Extensive cities alternated with large agricultural zones and small oceans. Glittering communication lines between the cities spoke of lively cross country traffic.
"The number of inhabitants is small as compared to the huge area of their planet. This is an additional reason why they've neglected the development of space travel. They know only too well that the other four planets of their solar system are totally uninhabitable. And where else should they go to? Their world has been offering them everything they ever needed for their existence."
"And still, you said, they want to leave this world?"
For the last time they entered the planet's shadow and flew over its night side. Barkon was the same size as Terra and had a similar atmosphere. Its gravitational pull was slightly less however.
"Look at this sky, Perry Rhodan, then you will understand why they want to leave."
And Perry Rhodan gazed at the sky.
Since the atmosphere swallowed up the last faint light rays coming from the far away Milky Ways and the spiral nebulae, it had now become totally black. There was no moon to bestow a gentle light. Not a single star was stood in the pitch black firmament of the heavens. No night on Earth would ever get that dark, not even if the sky was totally obscured by cloud banks. He felt as if an opaque, black cloth had been draped over the entire globe, threatening to smother it with its darkness.
Rhodan quailed at the sight. "I think I'm beginning to understand," he said softly.
Abruptly they plunged again into the light of the sun which was rapidly rising from the ocean in the East. The main continent became visible on the horizon. A huge city appeared on the ocean shore.
"They are already expecting us," announced the Immortal. "Naturally they have invented airplanes to fly inside their atmosphere. Nevertheless they know we aren't coming from their own planet. We are strangers and on this world a stranger can come only from space."
"What do they look like?"
"The same as us. Humanoid, like all races of common origin."
Rhodan wanted to ask a question but his hands automatically worked at the controls, without any conscious effort on his part. The small spaceship descended farther and was gliding just a few feet above the gently waving surface of the ocean in the direction of the shore. High above, whole groups of fast drop-shaped airplanes were circling in the air. Ships with colorful little flags left the harbor and formed a parade outside the breakwaters. The landing field close to the city, and directly at the ocean, was ringed by a black crowd of people.
"You mustn't wonder about anything you see here," admonished the Immortal. "In their eyes we'll be like a long lost son returning home. Once upon a time they were in contact with other races but they lost it when the distance to the galaxy became greater. And they did not want to leave their home." There was a tiny pause before the Immortal concluded It's remarks: "Only a few of them left home. And the Barkonides have been waiting for their return all these million years..."
Thoughts were tumbling all about in Rhodan's brain but there was no time left to put them in order. The landing field came closer and closer and he continued to throttle the ship's speed. As gently as a feather he set down the small spacecraft. The drive shut itself off automatically. The vibrations and the humming sounds died down.
"Let's get off," suggested the Immortal. Then It laughed again but it was an expectant and silent laughter that communicated itself directly and exclusively to Rhodan's brain. "Don't ever forget that I am with you but always remember that nobody else is aware of that. If you wish to talk to me, you must do it from now on without audible words. Is that clear, old friend?"
Of course, I understand you, my much older friend, thought Rhodan in amusement, although he was feeling far from happy and gay.
Yes, that's the way, thought back the Immortal. And now get the hatch open. The Barkonides speak Intercosmo—they even were originally the creators of this simplified language but this fact has long been forgotten.
The whole story behind these strange people gradually seemed to make more sense. Rhodan could somehow guess at how all these clues and little hints might explain it all but it was not the time to start thinking about it now. He got up and walked over to the small airlock, which he no longer needed now. The heavy outside hatch swung open. Warm, fresh air streamed into his lungs. It was good and aromatic air smelling of land and ocean.
Meanwhile the Barkonides had broken through the barriers and came running toward the ship from all directions. With much difficulty an elegant-looking four wheeled motor vehicle managed to make its way through the throng. There was not a trace of either police or military forces.
The vehicle was a convertible. Several very dignified appearing men were sitting inside. They did not seem any different from any welcoming committee on Earth. Each of them wore slightly different clothing, which excluded at once the thought that they might be wearing any uniforms. The trousers were rather tight; their jackets fairly big and loose. One of the gentlemen was even wearing some kind of a top hat. Rhodan reminded himself of the Immortal's advice not to be surprised at anything.
He returned the welcoming gesture of the oldest of the Barkonides in the car which now had come to a halt. The crowd was disciplined and they stayed far enough behind to permit the four men (obviously some high-ranking officials) to get out of their car.
Just keep calm, recommended the Immortal. They are wondering why you'd be coming at this particular moment. Just when they are finally ready to start on their long journey across the void, they receive visitors from the long vanished universe.
Rhodan did not reply. He leaped down onto the ground of the alien planet and was grateful for its lighter gravity. With a few long strides he reached the four men who were waiting for him.
"Welcome to Barkon, the world of loneliness," said the old man with the top hat. "How did you succeed in finding us
?"
Rhodan had to admit that this was indeed a quite peculiar reception considering that these men had never before faced any stranger from out of space. I'll speak through you, indicated the Immortal, who had noticed a slight hesitation in Rhodan. Don't be surprised if you are going to say something you actually don't know at all. You will be kind enough not only to lend me your ear but also your own body.
"It was by accident," said Rhodan. The words that were no longer his own came smoothly over his lips. "The galactic government sent me in search of you. My mission is successful. I've found Barkon."
"We've been waiting for this for one million years," replied the man in the top bat and smiled. Rhodan felt like in a dream—and in a sort of a way this was a dream indeed, in a figurative sense. "But the more our distance to the galaxy increased, the more our hopes of ever making contact with it decreased. Now the miracle has come to pass."
"The miracle is founded in the mastery of time and space," declared Rhodan without comprehending his own words. "Only this little spaceship here is capable of bridging the mighty abyss between Barkon and our worlds."
One of the men, who had a magnificent red beard, stepped forward. "I am Regoon, chief physicist of Barkon and also its Vice President. I'd like to hear your report about the principles of your space drive and how it was possible..."
"Our guest will have plenty of opportunity to enlighten us about many things we'd like to learn from him," interrupted the top-hatted Barkonide in a reproachful tone, then turned to Rhodan: "Regoon is very impatient, stranger. Forgive his inopportune question. By the way—my name is Laar, chief of government of Barkon and atomic specialist."
"My name is Rhodan," said Rhodan. Now the Immortal had appropriated not only his body but also his name. "I'll remain on your world exactly 10 weeks. This will give us ample time to exchange our experiences in all the various fields of knowledge, science and history of the galaxy."
Laar threw a glance toward the ship which revealed only too plainly his painfully repressed impatience. "We could put it in one of our hangars here so that it..."
"Not necessary," said Rhodan nonchalantly. "Its best hangar is out in space." He made a sweeping motion with his hand. The hatch closed of its own accord. Inside the ship the engines began to hum and the slender torpedo-shaped body rose slowly upwards, then accelerated rapidly, soon to be recognizable only as a tiny, silvery spot in the blue sky. "I've sent it into orbit around Barkon. It will land again in this spot in 10 weeks."
Silently the four dignitaries had watched the spectacle. From the awestruck crowd came a few isolated shouts expressing amazement. Laar swallowed hard a few times before he could finally open his mouth. "Remote control—fantastic. Yes, your ship will be safe up there—although it would also have been in a secure place in our hangar."
"Pardon me, I did not sent it up into space for reasons of safety. While the ship is orbiting your world, it also serves as a hyperradio station satellite. The moment an important hyperspace message is received the ship will come in for a landing to automatically pass on the information. This is how I can keep up communication with the galactic government."
Regoon had overcome his disappointment. He pointed to the two other Barkonides who now also had climbed out of the car. "This is Gorat, our astronomer. Unfortunately he can study this certainly most interesting science only in a theoretical fashion for there are no sufficiently large telescopes on Barkon to make a closer examination of the nearest galaxy. It's just too far from us."
Gorat was a surprisingly short and fat man. He smiled timidly. "I would be so happy if you could tell me about the stars—it's a wishful dream of mine once to be able to see a real star—besides Barkon, of course."
"And this gentlemen is Nex," said Regoon pointing to a very tall and slender Barkonide. "He teaches the science of Nexialism."
Rhodan, who was quite familiar with that science, noted this statement with satisfaction: that even on this loneliest world of the universe the thought had triumphed that all-embracing knowledge is to be preferred to mere specialization.
Rhodan exchanged greetings with the two men. Then Laar said: "We had ample time to prepare ourselves for welcoming you. You will be my guest, Rhodan. You will have occasion to talk with the outstanding scientists of our world and to convince yourself that despite our isolation we have always endeavored not to lose contact with our past. Please, come."
Laar glanced a last time up into the sky but nothing was to be seen any more of the mysterious ship that had brought the long awaited visitor.
Rhodan climbed into the car and sat between Laar and Regoon. He was pondering the thought of what might happen to him if the ship should fail to return in 10 weeks as promised. But he could just as well have worried about his fate in case the Immortal should decide now to disappear for good. Then Rhodan would be sitting on an infinitely distant world, the most incredible Crusoe that ever existed.
You are worrying needlessly,the voice inside him suddenly remarked with a hint of reproach. I'll never break my word to you, I've promised you would not lose any time—at most just as much as it takes to take a breath, Concentrate on your mission here. And believe me, you are confronted with a real task!
Rhodan felt relieved when he heard the Immortal's reassuring message. There was no doubting It's word.
Thank you, he thought.
The drive to the president's residence resembled a triumphant procession. The Barkonides were lining the magnificent streets, shouting jubilant greetings to the visitor from space.
The journey lasted almost one hour as it proceeded across the city. Then for another half an hour they drove on a main road leading out of the city again, all the time accompanied by a police escort. Their path led through beautiful park land and woods. Finally they arrived before a huge gate which was opened to let them through on a driveway that ended at the residence of the chief of the government.
Rhodan admired the Barkonides' sense of beauty. The house was not very high; it resembled in style a gigantically enlarged bungalow. The front wall consisted mainly of a glass-like material. It was transparent and permitted a view of the rooms beyond.
"You'll like it here," said Laar pointing to the building. "This is the administrative and scientific center of Barkon. Don't be misled by its apparent small size. A remote-controlled television station connects us with all the important places in our world. In your room you will have the opportunity to get acquainted with Barkon and its history throughout several hundred thousand years. Nothing much has changed during that time and you might even consider us to be a sterile society. But we have worked toward one single goal and have neglected many other things."
"I know," said Rhodan and paid no attention to the astonished faces of the four men.
Ten minutes later the door of his room closed behind him. He was alone in the room which was going to be his home for the next 10 weeks. A bit forlorn, he sank back into an armchair which stood close to the glass wall. From there he had a sweeping view of the whole city and the nearby ocean. He sighed.
Ten weeks! Why should I spend 10 weeks on this alien world when I can't spare a single minute from all the pressing affairs I should tend to? Isn't that a sheer waste of time?
"We can converse aloud here," countered the Immortal. "Then you won't feel so lonely. Nobody can hear us here and there are no secret microphones anywhere. Waste of time? That's what you think? You are mistaken, old friend. Just remember that you are sick in bed. Your encounter with the galactic traders still lies ahead in the future, more than 10 weeks. So what could you be missing then?"
"I don't know an answer to that. But won't you finally reveal to me what I have to do in order to save Barkon from being annihilated?"
"Don't worry about that either. I'll take care of everything for you. It'll be just some slight manipulation you'll have to do. One day before we leave they'll show us their installations with which they plan to propel Barkon II through space. That's when we'll do it. Kind of a rever
sal of poles, you might call it."
"That's all there is to it?"
"Yes, that's all!"
"Then why do we have to stay here 10 weeks?"
The Immortal sounded highly amused. "In order to get you acquainted with the history of our galaxy. You can't watch it any faster than the passage of time. And you'll have to watch quite a number of films, I'm afraid."
"Couldn't this be done via hypno-schooling with a time accelerator?"
"Not this time, Perry." The Immortal spoke with a slight reprimand in his voice. "You are as good as immortal but you haven't yet learned the meaning of patience. I believe this won't come until boredom begins to set in. But knowing the way you are you won't have even enough patience to sit still and be bored."
Rhodan looked out of the window. Dusk was falling over the beautiful landscape. Suddenly he felt very forlorn and forsaken.
3/ The Great Archives
The first two weeks passed quickly. With the aid of the television scanner Rhodan acquainted himself with his temporary planet home Barkon. It was accomplished by direct transmission from all parts of this peaceful, unspoiled world. But every evening Rhodan was freshly impressed by the mere sight of the nocturnal darkened sky. Of course no television was needed for that. Only once during these two weeks had the air been clear enough to permit him to see a faint glimmer exactly at the zenith. It had the shape of a frayed spot. This was his own galaxy, 150,000 light-years away. And since he himself was now in relatively present time, the Milky Way he saw was also 150,000 years old. He looked into the past with his naked eyes.
At the beginning of the third week he received a visit from Nex the Nexialist.
"I have been entrusted with the task of showing you the history of Barkon. For this we'll have to go to the Great Archives."
It's getting interesting now, said the Immortal in an inaudible voice to Rhodan. Get ready for some surprises. Don't ever forget that this race already existed when the Milky Way was still young and without life.
