by Leo Lukas
We'd had such great hopes for it. The innovative, attractively balanced design, which many termed "femininely elegant," with two living areas connected only through the central hub, had appealed to everyone involved from the start. Didn't this wonderfully beautiful space vessel embody the great pairs of opposites that highlighted our lives? Male and female, chance and determination, rising and falling, Heaven and Hell? That the designer, a trained space pilot, was made the commander, was only logical. I personally handed her the device that would grant her biological immortality, and sent her and a crew numbering 17,000 people into the infinity of space. By human standards, they were prepared the best they could be for the long journey that lay before them.
But vast and wide is the Universe, and for the most part wondrously empty, but it is also filled with horrors. I visited the NEANN OCIS as I did other arks with the intention of encouraging the crew and giving advice, or making corrections in on-board society if it was developing in the wrong way. But, when I arrived, I didn't find anyone I could have encouraged, and there was nothing that was worth correcting. The same unknown plague that had wiped out a portion of the inhabitants of the LEMCHA OVIR had struck even more terribly in the NEANNE OCIS. Only the Naahk, protected by her Cell Activator, was left. She was in a thoroughly regrettable state, mentally disturbed, devoted to the alcohol that she constantly consumed in such large amounts that even her Cell Activator couldn't completely detoxify her bloated body.
Now I remember that the Keeper had not accompanied me on that visit, since he had wanted to investigate a series of highly interesting transient hyperphysical phenomena in the immediate vicinity. He had placed one of his ship's small scout-craft at my disposal. He was thereby spared the encounter with the Naahk of the NEANN OCIS. I was too depressed myself to describe the conditions on board to him, and instead merely said something evasive and meaningless. Should I have told him that I had even played with the idea of reprogramming the autopilot and letting the NEANN OCIS fall into a star? Perhaps that would have been the best thing, even for the Naahk, but it would have been murder just the same, and that was something I couldn't commit. Not then. And so the ghost ship went on its way ...
... and now it had been discovered by the UMBERIA's neutrino detectors. Eight thousand light-years from Akon, in an uninhabited sector frequently wracked by hyper-storms. The shields seemed to be largely intact, but its velocity was now only around 30 percent of light. Without para-psychically gifted crew members, it was impossible to maintain both dilation flight and anti-detection cloaking. Whoever piloted the ark, the Naahk or the ship's computer, had apparently decided on the latter, and so it had lost speed over the centuries.
Admiral Mechtan tan Taklir was, as usual, slightly out of his depth when more was involved than just flying or shooting. He attempted to offer suggestions as to what should be undertaken in regard to the situation now that it had changed yet again. Perry Rhodan made it clear that he nonetheless wanted to go with the PALENQUE, LAS-TOOR, and HALUTE to Xolyar. The "new" ark could wait, he felt. As before, the ACHATI UMA was his primary goal. The reason was fully clear to me even if he didn't come out and say it: he was hoping to find Levian Paronn within, or at least traces that would point to his present location.
The Terran didn't suspect that he was standing face to face with the very person he sort ...
I admit, dear Diary, that I experienced a feeling of superiority at that moment. At the same time, I admonished myself to exercise greater caution, not to mention humility, which is more fitting for me since the hours of decision lie just ahead. Pride goes before a fall and not seldom causes it. Hubris has often led to the failure of many seemingly perfect plans.
The other newly minted "Official Contact Representative," my rival for the favor of Aykalie and the Council (as if either mattered to me) proposed that we take the UMBERIA to the newly discovered ark, determine its condition, and then return to the ACHATI UMA. I agreed, since I couldn't very well reveal that we wouldn't find anything there but at most a pathetic, mentally disturbed alcoholic.
While I bring you, my Diary, up to date in the seclusion of my cabin, we are in Metagrav flight on the way there. Must hurry, since the short trip will soon be over. I don't have any concern that the Naahk of the NEANNE OCIS will recognize me and give me away, as I have changed my appearance. And when I began my activity in the Blue System, I also adopted a different behavior pattern, one that fits my role. Extremely little connects me with the Levian Paronn of before.
And inwardly? Can I say with any conviction that I am still the same as the man who led his people to the stars? Who had the arks built and set them on their course? Who himself set out from Lemur and reached Akon millennia later—even if not by the way he had originally intended to take?
I don't know.
Vast and wide is the Universe, filled with completely unsuspected, unlimited possibilities, and only Time knows the answers to all questions.
10
A Desperate Act
Two Days before Winter Moonmerge, in the Garden of Everwas
Boryk suffered.
From loneliness, anyway. After Duani died, women had often offered themselves to him as a partner. He had found pleasure with some of them, a little consoled and very well entertained. But then, after a few short hours or days, they had parted quite amicably. None came close to Duani. On the occasions when someone new threatened to replace his memory of the companion with the dark, finger-long, curly hair, the pointed chin and the attractively protruding ears, he didn't give her the chance.
Many cycles before, a certain boredom had already slipped into his life, which largely followed the never-changing pattern. Children came into the world—statistically speaking, more than ever. They caused excitement in their brief, stormy puberty, underwent the Quests or, if girls, trembling with impetuous zest for life, received the youthful adventurers from the other side. Then, soon afterwards, they sank willingly into the daily routine of tilling the fields or combing through the Silver Mountain. Finally they fell more-or-less in love and produced children almost as an afterthought ... Whereupon everything began all over again, while the older generations slowly faded away. The world was round, well-rounded, like Duani's breasts had been. It was all so certain, but certainly not surprising. And Boryk suffered from this certainty.
But the familiar suffering was not what disturbed him.
Just recently, he had begun to suffer physically.
Unaccustomed, almost forgotten feelings tortured him, suddenly afflicted him in the stillness of the night. They robbed him of his sleep with prickling and stabbing pains, pressure and throbbing. When he had traversed not even half of the upward path to the Vertical Village, a path he had easily climbed so often before, he had to stop, gasping, while bright white spots danced in front of his eyes. When he went down to the ceremonial plaza because a festival was in progress where his presence was expected, he was happy when he could reach one of the loudspeaker pillars without noticeably stumbling. With his arms wrapped around it, he then gasped for breath and turned all his remaining strength to getting back his balance and self-control.
Was he perhaps getting old? Was he perhaps sick?
Impossible. The sad goddess's amulet had kept him as he had been when, coming out of Hell, he had encountered the Naahk in Angelland and defeated her. Hardly grown out of the crèche, not much larger than a child, with skin as smooth as that of the blue Paradise Fruit. Maybe seventeen hairs on his entire lower body. Not a single wrinkle, not a single worn-out fiber in his body. Young, forever young.
And yet ...
Was it conceivable that the amulet was losing its power, and he was also losing his strength as a result?
Yes. Anything was conceivable.
Boryk wasn't afraid of death. He had often yearned for it. When the end of his existence was suddenly a serious possibility once again, it even spurred him on. He routinely went through the ceremony—some baptism of some harvest beast, including blessing all th
e other robots while he was at it. Then, as soon as the crowd had scattered and he had shaken off the girls who were flirtatiously offering their meager charms, he went off in the direction of the Horizon. Past the stables, the berryhedges, and the groves. Across meadows and savannahs while avoiding the deceptive swamps and dunes. As far as the seashore.
He dug a hollow in the sand. Remembered how the crystalline grains had trickled through his leather pants back then and lodged between his toes. How his Mama had warned him not to play without his swimming ring at the edge of the water no matter how shallow it was. How Gujnar lured him out anyway, just so Rautsh could humiliate him. How he, both innocent and guilty, unthinkingly asked the question that finished the job of making him an outsider.
What exactly lies beyond the horizon?
Boryk had intended to tempt his aching body to make one last effort. To demand the answer at last, to swim against the current to the edge of the world, no matter how hard it was. But now he felt too weak to do it, weaker than ever before in the many years that had passed. He rolled himself under a heap of sand, dug his feet into the pebbles, and enjoyed the moisture that eased his pains. Tired, he gazed at the shore, the sea, and the sky.
In which a hatch opened. A square darker than the night, then suddenly gleaming bright.
Silhouettes emerged from the light, standing out against it. Silhouettes of giants.
And they floated down towards him.
His first thought was that his past had caught up with him. It was late, but now hurtling down towards him was the punishment for driving the Naahk to her death and appropriating her amulet for himself. Somehow these other giants had found out about it, and now they had come for vengeance.
Seized by panic, he burrowed into the ground as deeply as he could, piling up a wall of sand and gravel until he was completely hidden behind it, including his head. He didn't dare breathe for fear that the rattling of his lungs would give him away. He heard the approaching giants conversing in a language he couldn't understand. He only caught some fragments that sounded like "Maffan," "Majittri," and "Matekten." Those were his titles. They were searching for him without a doubt! He pressed himself deeper, burying his face against the wall. He instinctively formulated a quick prayer to the Creative Divinity—until it occurred to him that a goddess no longer existed in Heaven and Hell, and he was to blame for it.
The giants' voices faded into the distance. Only when he could no longer hear them did Boryk dare to peer over the edge of his concealment. The horrifying figures, four in number, were flying towards the village. They wore helmets that were round like balls and bulky clothing that reminded him of those of the Tennoi. So they were probably Guardians as well. That fit their mission of apprehending Boryk the criminal and punishing him.
What, if anything, should he do? The giants appeared invincible. They must be incredibly strong, for they effortlessly carried with them several boxes that were almost as large as many of the smaller cottages. It was certain that all the villagers together wouldn't be able to oppose these four giants, even if Boryk inspired his people to fight without any regard for their losses.
The ability to bend others to his will wouldn't be of any use to him against the giants, either. He didn't speak their language—so he couldn't even give them any orders! Boryk hadn't felt so weak and helpless since his childhood.
Meanwhile, the colossal Guardians had reached the village, descended, and disappeared from his view behind hills, trees, and menhirs. Boryk stood up and mechanically brushed the sand from his clothes. What should he do? Where should he go? He couldn't think of any place in all of Heaven where he could hide for any length of time. He would be as much at risk in the Silver Mountain as in the cliffs. Not even fleeing over the volcano into Angelland or to the other side would accomplish anything. Hadn't the Naahk claimed that she and others of her kind had made the world? There was no reason to doubt what the Goddess had said; even the words of the Holy Writ had turned out to be true after all. If they were Creators like the Goddess, those enormous vengeance-seekers would know every corner of the world ten times better than he himself did.
What was happening in the village at that moment? Were they herding the inhabitants together? Were they shouting his, Boryk's, name? Were they threatening his people, beating and torturing them because they wouldn't reveal where the one they were searching for was hiding? Should he allow that to happen? His poor people couldn't help it, they hadn't had been involved in his crime even in the slightest! Shouldn't he come forth instead, to divert the harm from the innocent?
Undecided, hesitant as he had last been when he began his quest ages before, Boryk headed towards the village. Since he hadn't yet struggled his way to a decision, he used every bit of cover he could, darting from rock to bush, from stable to honeypole. Still, he didn't hear any screams or other sounds that would indicate fighting or beatings. However,
he thought he could hear voices, including the deep, booming voices of the giants.
Then suddenly, he could understand what they were saying!
" ... no need to be afraid of us. We are friends. Relatives in a way. See, we look very much like you do, only twice as large. But you'll soon get used to that. Step closer. We won't do anything to you. You can even touch and feel us if you like. Do our spacesuits make you feel uneasy? We would like to take them off, but unfortunately we don't dare. You appear to be quite healthy, but you could still carry something within you that causes disease that would be dangerous to us. Later, when we've got to know each other better, you might allow us to examine one or the other of you. But we don't want to rush things ... "
Then came what Boryk had been fearing the entire time. One of the giants asked: "Could you tell us if there is someone among you that you call the Naahk. Perhaps he or she doesn't live here in the village, but somewhere else? Up there, for example?
And a high voice that Boryk recognized as that of one of Gujnar's granddaughters replied, "Our Maffan and Majittri, and the Matekten of the mountain people, is Boryk the Forever Young! You should ask him—he knows everything!"
Oh! He appreciated that she was so proud of him and had such a high opinion of him, but did she have to come out and tell the giant Guardians that?
"Where can we find this Boryk?"
"He was still here just a bit ago. He went to the seashore, I think. But you came from that direction—didn't you see him?"
And then a dozen inhabitants of the Garden of Everwas chattered all at once, boasting of Boryk's cleverness and wisdom, sang the praises of his deeds, described him and the cabin where he lived, halfway between here and the Vertical Village in the mountain ... The giants listened patiently and only occasionally asked questions. That he had lived much longer than the others and didn't age at all seemed to interest them greatly, however. They had the amulet described in exact detail, as well. So it was all due to that. Just as he had suspected! Even so, Boryk continued to listen, and the more the giants asked questions, the more thoughtful he became. Were they hiding their true intentions or had they in fact known nothing about him beforehand? What should he think about all this?
At least it didn't look for the moment as though the Guardians intended to hurt anyone. They weren't putting any pressure on the villagers, and were in fact making an effort to allay their fears.
Should he step forward? Or would it be better to go on watching, waiting to see how the situation developed?
A new attack of weakness deprived him of the choice. It suddenly overwhelmed him, and with much more force than before it nearly robbed him of his consciousness. His limbs went numb. He felt as though his body was falling apart, as though only the sheer terror of death held him together. He didn't feel any pain, yet he couldn't avoid the impression that he was on the point of dissolving. It was horrible, far worse than when he had been scanned in the corridor that led to the Goddess back then. How long it took until the attack ebbed and finally faded away entirely, he couldn't guess; several minutes, certainly.
>
As he cautiously clenched and spread his fingers and toes, which prickled as though they had fallen asleep, a thought came to him. Was his condition possibly connected to the arrival of the giants? But no, he had felt exhausted and worn out several days before although he had slept well, even longer than usual.
After assuring himself that his body was again functioning passably well, he moved on, keeping under cover. He circled around the cottages and, on all fours and crawling through the olive-tree grove, he approached the ceremonial square from the mountain side so he could look out over events from a slightly elevated position. The entire population had gathered, from the babe in arms to the oldest of the old, and stood in a large circle around the giants. Two of them were speaking with some of the villagers in low voices. Both sat on the clay ground. One even had a child in his lap, a girl. The two other Guardians were busy erecting a peculiar structure. From strangely shaped pieces that they had brought with them, they were assembling with quick, practiced hand motions a kind of oversized gateway, though without any gates inside or an attached fence. That seemed senseless to Boryk. But they appeared to know what they were doing. When they took a couple of steps back, satisfied with the results of their work, a strange green light flared up underneath the archway. Never before had Boryk seen anything like it. He could hardly tear his gaze away from the unreal light although his eyes began to water.
"The connection with Xolyar is now established, Maffan!"
Boryk noticed that the giant spoke with two voices. From his mouth came gibberish, of which Boryk only understood "Maffan." From a box on his belt, however, somewhat louder and immediately afterwards, the sentence came out in human speech. What that could mean was a complete mystery to Boryk.