The Sleeper of the Ages

by Hans Kneifel

  Rhodan decided to act even though he still did not have a definite plan. He pulled an antigrav backpack from a supply bin and tested its functionality: the device readout stood at READY. He put it on and flew swiftly to the plowed-up ridge. The rounded side of the wreck loomed before him as he touched down. He lifted his handbeamer and made sure that the beam was focused as narrowly as possible.

  More flowers, lines, and stick figures? he asked himself. He rose about twenty meters straight up, and fired. The thin beam ate through the surface of the metal and left a fine, smoking trail that could be clearly seen. A confused chorus of murmuring voices accompanied his efforts. The Lemurians looked up at him uncomprehendingly. Rhodan carefully drew the outline of a humanoid in front of the background of the wreck. The figure raised its hands beseechingly to the cloud above its head.

  He had not expected a reaction from the Menttia, but a group separated from the cloud. After some seemingly random whirling it circled directly above Rhodan and his attempt at drawing.

  Rhodan drew a cloud from which rain fell. Where the drops landed, a shoot appeared that he made grow into a tree. A humanoid picked a fruit that had grown in the treetop, then he drew a figure that held a large blossom up towards the swarm. As the energy pack began to run low, he yielded to a sudden inspiration and drew a round, earless, and grinning face. He seemed to recall that such cartoon faces had been called "smileys" back in a long-gone era. They were often used for roughly the same purpose he was using this one: as a simple graphic symbol that was both easy to draw and expressive. Then he shrugged and shoved the hot beamer into the holster at his belt. He slowly floated back to the Shift and landed gently on the soft ground.

  "That's all I can do," Rhodan said. "I wonder if they'll need much time to think about it?" He took off the antigrav unit and stowed it away.

  The small swarm whirled around the wall into which his drawings had been burned. Atmospheric diffraction had changed the setting sun's shape and it looked flattened as it touched the horizon. The wreck was now bathed in blood-red light. When Rhodan reached the Shift, it seemed as though the giant cloud of Menttia was slowly rising. A few minutes later, the fading of the brightness given off by the millions of spindles also showed that was indeed the case.

  "They're thinking and waiting," Denetree said, braiding the end of her pig-tail more tightly without taking her eyes away from the Menttia.

  As Rhodan sat down, he saw the same skepticism in the eyes of the crew that he also felt. He did not count on a quick success. The means of communication were so basic that mistakes could so easily be made. But perhaps the Menttia would answer in a manner similar to what they had done on the face of the dune.

  "Are we going to spend the night here?" Solina asked. "Or should we risk a flight to the LAS-TOOR?"

  "Or how about to the PALENQUE instead?" asked Kealil Ron. "Both commanders will be worried and wondering where we are."

  Hyman Mahal had flown with the crawler to the PALENQUE, so Sharita Coho and the crew would have more information about recent events than Maphan Jere von Baloy.

  In the fading light, three Lemurians came towards the Shift. Solina and Rhodan recognized the two shuttle pilots and Kalymel's female friend.

  "Well, Kalymel," Solina said in greeting him, "your new home is turning out to be a little more complicated than anyone thought. These beings are called Menttia and they're the true natives of this planet. You'll have to learn to get along with the neighbors."

  Kalymel and Rasturi had no idea how seriously the historian meant her remark. They looked back and forth between the wreck and the Menttia. "How do you know this?" Kalymel then asked. "Have you spoken with them?"

  "We found ancient records that gave their name." Ameda gestured to the shuttles. "It was good to gather all the Lemurians here. You can use the shuttles to find the best place for your eventual settlement. How many more times can you take off in them?"

  "Five or six," replied Ascelin, the pilot of the PIXAL. "If the ... Menttia don't kill us first."

  "If you succeed in exchanging messages with them, they will keep the peace," Rhodan said. "Did you find a data storage unit in the wreck?"

  Kalymel shook his head. Rhodan drew him a few paces to the side, laid his hand on his shoulder, and considered whether the Lemurian could bear the truth. He decided Kalymel would find out sooner or later anyway.

  "I'll tell just you," Rhodan said in a low voice. "Use this knowledge as you see fit. Your Naahk, the Star Seeker Atubur Nutai, is dead."

  The effect of the news was a numbing dismay that was obvious in Kalymel's expression. "We buried him in the dunes next to the command module in which his companion Chibis-Nydele now lives," Rhodan continued. "She wants to join the rest of you when you've found a final place for your settlement. I'm sorry to be the one to give you such painful news."

  Kalymel nodded slowly. Then he turned and stared unseeing at the wreck. At length he wrapped his fingers around Rhodan's hand. "Thank you, Terran visitor. I ... don't have any words. It's terrible ... for all of us."

  He nodded again, then went to the twenty dozen or so Lemurians who were looking towards him. They sat and lay in small groups between the fires where they had placed seats, tables, couches, and other furnishings. It seemed that they had enough water and food available. The silence that lay over them was that of uncertainty and fear.

  Rasturi ran to Kalymel, pressed her hand into his, and would not let go. "No data units, Terran," she confirmed.

  Ascelin nodded and gestured apologetically. Ameda and Isaias looked up at the Menttia, which had now withdrawn to a higher altitude. The impression of looming danger had grown less with the decreasing glow.

  Kealil Ron blinked in the last rays of sunlight and raised his hand to make a suggestion. "We should find a place to spend the night, Perry. Maybe tomorrow we can make a decision in more favorable circumstances."

  "Good idea," Rhodan said. "We'll leave at once."

  Kealil Ron turned on the Shift's powerful floodlight.

  Denetree seemed to have missed hearing the suggestion. Without moving, she looked at the wreck and the camp. Her face showed an intense expression of a pain that. The cause, exaggerated by exhaustion, was brought on by the horrifying sight of the wreck and the chaotically disorganized camp. A single glance showed Rhodan that she had fallen back into the depression from which she had suffered since her first day on the PALENQUE.

  Rhodan took her hand and led her to the Shift. "Come with us," he said. "The scene here depresses even me. Tomorrow, the world will at least look brighter, even for you. And sleep will also do you good."

  He helped her into the cabin. As Kealil Ron piloted the Shift into the air, Denetree's knees gave way. She lost consciousness and collapsed in the cramped cabin interior. Solina clambered out of her seat and helped Rhodan lay the young Lemurian on the contour couch. Kealil Ron flew the Shift in the chalk-white light of the headlamps back to the dunes and to Chibis-Nydele.

  In the rooms that Commander Atubur Nutai and Nydele had lived, they found places to sleep. There were showers that still just about worked, some fresh clothes, and enough food for the Shift crew. Even Rhodan felt completely exhausted. However, he still took a moment to test his multi-function wristband, but again without success.

  Rhodan then washed, drank cold Huccar, and stretched out on some blankets that Nydele had spread out over the soft carpet of one of the rooms. On a low table, a small flame burned in a bowl of oil. The activator chip under his skin seemed to glow and pulse.

  The following morning after a good night's sleep, Rhodan lay there with open eyes and put his thoughts in order. He held the wristband, which he had removed the night before, in front of his eyes and tried to turn it on. Nothing functioned.

  The Menttia are taking their own sweet time about coming to a decision, he thought. He got up. From the other rooms, which were sparsely though tastefully furnished, came the sounds of the other team members. In the air were the aromas of a hot drink and some k
ind of warm pastry.

  Rhodan secured the wristband to his forearm and paced slowly back and forth in the sleeping room. The bowl of oil had burned out.

  A shadow fell across the strip of daylight that shone in the corridor just outside the entranceway. Then Chibis-Nydele stepped into view and beckoned to Rhodan. "I believe I have found what you are searching for. Come with me."

  She led Rhodan into the commander's workroom. Sunlight, diverted by reflective surfaces, came from the control section and glistened on the commander's desk. Its surface had been inlaid with precious stones. Rhodan saw that a front panel below the desktop, and about a dozen others, had opened and box-like drawers had been pushed out.

  "Secret compartments, Immortal," Nydele whispered. This morning she wore a white, flowing blouse and similar trousers made of a material that seemed like a crystal mesh. The aura of grief and the will to survive that surrounded her made Nydele both desirable and vulnerable. "I touched this spot by chance and all these drawers came flying out."

  She pointed to a shimmering image on the desktop composed of metal threads, various kinds of wood with prominent grains, and precious stones. Rhodan recognized a stylized upper body and a head encased in a hood. The deep brown face could hardly be made out. Anything could be hidden under the hood: a man or a woman, perhaps not even a human being. Anything was possible.

  "This is the only depiction of the Legendor that I know of," Nydele said. "Atubur often spoke of him. He was said to be the one who sent the ships into space. But I know as little about the past as I do about the future. Here." From the largest metal drawer she took a small box that was connected to the interior of the desk by thick cables. One after another she pulled the yellow, black, red, and blue cables from a multiple connection plug and gave Rhodan the container. Like the desk, its outer surface was also decorated with intricate inlay work. It was a little larger than his hand.

  Rhodan lifted the lid. Inside were about three dozen thin, finger-long chips between gold-shining contact strips.

  Nydele examined the contents of the other compartments. She found dried-out ink containers, many writing utensils, balls of glass and stone, some plants encased in transparent material, personal jewelry, and book-cubes: the remnants of the Commander's life.

  "He sat here long and often." The woman's voice took Rhodan's thoughts back to certain times and places in his own past. "He drank Huccar, spoke with me, and told me of the time when 10,000 Lemurians inhabited the ship. He also spoke of his visions and said that every recorded memory would erode, grow weaker, and finally dissolve into entropy. Much I did not understand. Atubur was a wise man."

  Rhodan closed the box carefully.

  "If there was ever a data storage unit on the OVIR, that is it. It belongs to you, Immortal Rhodan."

  "I thank you," Rhodan said earnestly. "If we can read undamaged information from it, it will also belong to the last Lemurians. I promise that it will be made available to your people."

  She nodded and touched his upper arm. They went through the corridors and the complex of rooms to the sunlight-bathed anteroom by the hatch. The crew of the Shift were waiting there, chewing their breakfast with cups of hot Huccar in their hands.

  Smiling, Rhodan held up the little box and said, "Now we have a new reason to make an attempt to fly back to the ships. The data storage unit!"

  "I gave the unit to your leader," Chibis-Nydele confirmed without being asked. "He is to decipher it and tell the survivors the story of their ship."

  Kealil Ron nodded. "With that, we've accomplished the goal of our mission. At least for the PALENQUE. Echkal cer Lethir will have a fit."

  "Perry, how about if you come along with Denetree, Isaias, and me?" Arsis asked. "The rest can keep Nydele company in the meantime. Good idea?"

  "Agreed. Or at least until communication between the ships is reestablished."

  "It sounds like a good idea." The pilot looked into the morning sky, but no Menttia were to be seen among the clouds. She raised her cup. "Take-off in twenty minutes."

  At a great height, near the boundary with airless space, all the Menttia swarms had combined into a single mass. They swam blissfully in the constant stream of particles that the sun sent out. They unceasingly exchanged their observations and analyses of what they believed they had recognized as attempts at communication by the strangers. Many Menttia knew that they, as well as the strangers, lacked a common ground for understanding. A common terminology, since in contrast to the strangers, the Menttia had never seen the necessity to set their knowledge down in writing.

  —We would have had to write in sand, and the next storm would have blown it all away.—

  The Menttia of the Sand Surf exchanged their knowledge with those of the Moons' Realm. Their flowing thought connection included the conclusion that a wrecked spaceship and two shuttles were not dangerous machines. Half a thousand strangers did not represent a threat to the home world. The Menttia of the Flaming Autumn Forests added their judgment that the destruction of the old city in the valley had eliminated the danger from the past. The safety of the Menttia in the time to come was ensured, and the drawings of the strangers expressed their desire to live on the planet without aggression.

  —We should give the strangers a sign.—

  —A sign of peace. And if they do not understand, a second sign.—

  —It is questionable whether they will understand.—

  As the Menttia of the River Mouth Blossoms conversed with the swarms of the White Winds, they were uncertain whether the two large spaceships could be dangerous to them. But gradually the firm belief spread that they would soon disappear as surprisingly as they had appeared. They were "different" strangers, despite all similarities with the survivors of the wrecked ship.

  —If they display aggression, we can control them again.—

  —As we did previously.—

  When the Menttia of the Sand Blossoms, and all the other small swarms, decided that they would continue to maintain control of the situation at all times, all the Menttia agreed:—Let us cease the blockade of their energy!—

  —Let us give all ships their independence once more!—

  —Let us wait to see what transpires! Let us continue to observe them closely and at all times, as we have done so far!—

  The enormous cloud, far larger than the swarm above the camp of the survivors, slowly rotated in the showers of solar energy particles. Only later did individual swarms separate and return to their preferred homelands.

  Denetree was the last to board the Shift. She paused on the ramp, which was half-covered with sand, and waved to Chibis-Nydele and those remaining behind. Inside, she sealed the hatch firmly and belted herself into the last open seat.

  Arsis had—hopefully but once more in vain—checked the com console, just as Rhodan and Solina had their spacesuits. The Akonian pilot ran her hand through her short, smooth hair, nodded to Rhodan, and started the engines.

  "Up to the PALENQUE," Rhodan said and looked almost lovingly at the small box that he held in his lap with both hands. He closed his eyes and left everything to the pilot's skill.

  The fate of Chibis-Nydele and the Lemurians had struck him deeply. The process of dealing with such a shock always ran went through four stages. First came denial, wanting to forget and insisting to oneself that This Can't Be Happening. The Lemurians had put that phase behind them, along with the second phase: trying to negotiate and haggle with Fate. In Rhodan's estimation, they Lemurians were between the third and fourth stages of dealing with tragedy. They were between depression and acceptance. That also applied to Denetree, but to a somewhat lesser degree.

  The Shift rose at full power along an arching path to a low orbit. The team members sought in vain for the spaceships. When they had shot through the clouds and the Shift was finally approaching the edges of the darkness of space, Arsis cried out: "At last! Full power!"

  All the instruments on the rounded cockpit's control panel lit up. Glowing fields and displ
ays showed bright colors. Clicking, humming, buzzing, and whirring came from inside the console. When Arsis typed on the display fields, three holos took shape.

  A connection to the PALENQUE's control center was established immediately. At the same time, the Shift's hyperdetector found the LAS-TOOR, and after some further manipulation of the controls, the Terran ship as well. Even before Arsis or Rhodan could send their message, a clear signal was received. "We've been detected by the LAS-TOOR. Strong hyperdetection impulse."

  "So the Menttia have finally lifted the energy blockade from the ships," Solina said. "Now there's nothing left that can go wrong ... "

  The calm that reigned in the LAS-TOOR control center was largely deceptive. It was the calm before the storm. For hours, the crew and Echkal had been wondering when the situation would turn critical.

  The energy blockade continued unchanged. The dome holo still showed the voluminous ring of shining spindles. They continued to rotate between the ship's pole and equator as its individual component beings spun in an incomprehensible dance. It looked as though they were bathing in the energy which left the ship, as though it were a stimulating bath. And just as unchanged, the LAS-TOOR and the PALENQUE continued to circle the planet in a high orbit.

  Unchanged! For more than forty-eight hours!

  Ma-Techten Echkal cer Lethir, the commander's deputy, stared into the holo that showed the ship's surroundings in normal visual space. It was in fact like an explosion when the Chief Engineer shouted, "Echkal cer Lethir! The alien beings! They ... "

  The heads of everyone present in the control center jerked up. Astonishment quickly turned to relived as they watched the shining spindles leave orbit. The creatures formed a pointed wedge and at unbelievable speed raced down into the planet's atmosphere, almost faster than a thought and including every last individual. The space around the ship was empty.

  "This phenomenon is difficult to attribute to the Terrans," the Chief Engineer said.

  Echkal realized with grim reluctance that the engineer was right.