Chapters

01 My mother won't be born for another 102 years.
02 Credo, quia impossibile est.
03 Il y a une femme à l'origine de toutes les grandes...
04 Saps què ets? Ets una meravella. Ets únic. Mai a...
05 Immortality is a long shot, I admit. But somebody ...
06 Per aiutare un bambino, dobbiamo fornirgli un...
07 Lebe so, wie wenn Du nochmals leben könntest - die...
08 'Normal' is a dryer setting.
09 不聞不若聞之，聞之不若見之，見之不若知之，知之不若行之
10 A ship in port is safe, but that is not what ships...
11 Omnia mutantur. Nihil interit.
12 Har du sett min villa, min Villa Villekullavilla? ...
13 Nous arrivons tout nouveaux aux divers âges de la ...
14 Университет развивает все способности, в том...
15 Machine. Unexpectedly, I'd invented a time
16 Jeder hat in tiefstem Dank derer zu gedenken, die ...
17 Une photographie, c'est un fragment de temps qui...
18 Once more upon the waters! Yet once more!
19 La mer n'est que le véhicule d'une surnaturelle et...
20 The universe is one big coincidence. Cosmically...
21 Why?
22 There is no problem with changing the course of...
23 星星之火可以燎原
24 The computer is incredibly fast, accurate, and...
25 Die Menschen sind nicht immer, was sie scheinen...
26 Toutes les activités humaines ... sont vouées par ...
27 Irrtümer entspringen nicht allein daher, weil man ...
28 Vous interdisez les erreurs vous empêchez ainsi la...
29 You can't go home again.
30 Das Schönste, was wir erleben können, ist das...
31 There's more to this world than just people, you...
32 Sports is the toy department of human life.
33 Das Bergsteigen wird durch die Existenz von...
34 Time is the school in which we learn, Time is the ...
35 Бери́сь дру́жно, не бу́дет гру́зно.
36 Só percebemos o milagre da vida quando deixamos...
37 Extraordinary claims require extraordinary...
38 He sits motionless, like a spider in the centre of...
39 Both optimists and pessimists contribute to our...
40 L'ennui est la grande maladie de la vie.
41 Seine Briefe sind das schönste Andenken, das ich...
42 There must have been a moment, at the beginning...
43 Most children are born with a wail. Rachel...
44 All that mankind has done, thought or been: it is ...
45 On se demande parfois si la vie a un sens, et...
46 Nur wer die Vergangenheit kennt, hat eine Zukunft....
47 And now I think I am quite ready to go on another ...
48 Is it a comedy or a tragedy?
49 Oh, there's just one more thing...
50 Tu n'as pas à le [l'avenir] prévoir, mais à le...
51 Pourquoi pleurez-vous? M'avez-vous cru immortel?
52 Spoilers!

Spoilers!

- River Song

A man, let's call him Charlie, once read in a newspaper about his own death and funeral. It surprised him to read about those two things, of course, because he was still very much alive. But he didn't dwell and decided to simply ignore it. He wouldn't send a complain to the newspaper, he didn't think it was important enough.

A few days later, as he was walking down the street, he chanced upon an old friend, whom he hadn't seen for a very long time. The friend, when he saw Charlie, was surprised and a bit shocked.

„Ah“, said Charlie and padded his friend on the back. „I take it you haven't been to my funeral either.“

It was strange meeting Mr Tuniak today in his office, sitting there and talking, even though I had been to his funeral last week. I guess it would have been even more surreal, if it had been an open coffin funeral, but thankfully that had not been the case. Even so: I did not quite know how to react, when I saw him or how to greet him (or if I should tell him anything about the funeral; how much did he know about it?) and all these thoughts were pretty apparently displayed on my face. Mr Tuniak tried to ease me by telling a joke, which I have repeated here above.

„Have you... Did you watch your funeral yourself?“, I asked. „Secretly? Hidden somewhere or so?“

Mr Tuniak smiled about the question. „I have to admit, the thought crossed my mind, yes. But in the end I decided against it... maybe I will still take at least a look at my grave...“ He looked out of the window, deep in thought. But then he turned around and said to me: „But let's not focus on the past any more. During the last year you have asked several times about the future – the future from your point of view. I think now, at our last meeting, is the right time to talk about it.“

For a few moments there I forgot to take notes. I remembered all the times when Mr Tuniak had dropped hints about what was to come, but never elaborating upon them. I only knew that something big was going to happen, but nothing more, no details.

When he saw how I looked at him full of curiosity, he added: „Don't get your hopes up too much. I won't tell you any names, dates... or similar... precise data. I just want you to have an idea about what is to come... among other things so that you will understand, why – besides Juliette and my mothers – no one else built a time machine and used it.“

But he didn't start immediately. Instead of describing the world and how it would look three hundred years into the future, he began by talking about evolution.

„For the better part of the history of this planet, evolution had had an effect only on life forms“, he started. „Their DNA. Mutations change the DNA and whoever is best adapted to survive in their environment, gets to pass on their genes to the next generation. That's how it's worked so far. But here – now, your now – there are people who claim that evolution has stopped with humans. That humans no longer evolving like other species.“

„But doesn't our DNA still change?“, I asked. „I thought I learned that mutations are still occuring in human DNA.“

„Oh, there's no doubt that they do“, Mr Tuniak confirmed. „But they are no longer that important. A simple example: During the time of an Ice Age, a mutation that caused an animal to loose its fur, would lead to the death of this animal. It would have no offspring and therefore the mutation wouldn't have been passed on. But if the same thing happens to a human, the human would just go and buy a thick jacket. The human will still have children, will pass on the mutation. It may have been a disadvantage before, but now it's... unimportant. Or another example: The genes that cause people to have blond hair are recessive. If one parent has blond hair and the other parent has dark hair, there is a very high probability that the child will have dark hair too. You only have to look at statistics to confirm that. There are fewer and fewer people with blond hair. But you wouldn't necessarily be able to tell that, if you were walking down a street. During your time – well, to be fair, for a very long time now – people have been able to colour their hair, to change their hair colour. Their true hair colour is no longer of any importance.“

„If I understand you correctly, you are saying that once humans started to use tools, natural selection stopped being that important“, I said.

Mr Tuniak was slowly shaking his head. „No, not directly, it's not as simple as that. If you only look at a human and nothing else, yes it did, but that is the mistake some people make. You can no longer look just at the animal – in this case a human – alone, because it is using tools now. In a way, you could say that the tools have become a part of the human. He doesn't have claws, but he uses knives. He doesn't have a fur, but he wears clothes. And if you look at the history of humankind and don't ignore their use of tools, you are suddenly discovering that natural selection hasn't stopped at all.“

„It's changing the tools“, I realised. „Whatever works, humans will continue to use and pass that knowledge on to their children. How to built those tools and so... And whatever doesn't work, gets lost and forgotten.“

„That's the basic idea, yes“, Mr Tuniak said. „But of course, like evolution and natural selection in nature, it's not a straight forward process, working with an aim in mind. But it's ok as a very simplified version of the process. Now, what we have done here is stopped focusing on the life form alone. Instead we are now considering the life form and its surroundings. In a way you could say that those two things have become one.

„Ok“, I said slowly. „I'm still with you so far.“

„But what happens if we take the whole process one step further?“, Mr Tuniak asked.

„And now you have lost me“, I admitted. „What is the next step?“

„What if we don't look at just one single human being and its tools, but at all humans and all their tools?“, Mr Tuniak said. „What if we consider all of humankind as one big organism.“

„But that's...“

„Before you protest against that idea: There are some case, like ant colonies, where scientist already sometimes consider the whole colony as one huge organism“, he interrupted me. „Some habits only make sense that way.“

Several thoughts, some of them even conflicting with each other, were going through my head. How had we come so quickly from humankind being one huge life form to humankind being not much more than ants?

Oblivious to my confusion, Mr Tuniak continued: „The best, although not quite correct, description of what humankind will develop into is a gestalt.“

„What's a gestalt?“

Mr Tuniak hesitated a moment, before answering. When he started to talk, it was obvious that he chosen his words carefully. „A gestalt is a being consisting of several other being. Theoretically, two beings could make up a gestalt as much as two billion. And if you are dealing with numbers that high, it is not necessary for all the single beings to exist all the time. The gestalt will still continue, even if a few small parts of it change.“

„So, it's basically like the human body?“, I asked. „We are made up of several billion cells that together form our body, right?“

„That's not a good comparison“, Mr Tuniak said. „The cells in the human body do not have their own free will. But that is an important feature of a gestalt... Its single parts exist as complete and theoretically independent beings. But because they are together, they are also something different. Something bigger. The gestalt humankind will turn into will be like no other life form that existed before.“

„All humans will become one single being?“, I asked. „But doesn't that mean that all people will have think and behave the same? That they will have the same likes and dislikes?“

„No, because the single individual does not get lost or overwritten in a gestalt“, Mr Tuniak explained. „It would be like if you had conflicting thoughts. And this gestalt is also the reason why in the future no one will attempt to travel through time. If you travel through time, there is always the possibility that you change history. But that is something the gestalt of humankind must not risk. Any change in the past would affect it, because it consists of all humans. Any change in history will have consequences.“

„The gestalt of humankind cannot change the past without changing itself.“

„That's the gist of it, yes.“

„But how can such a... super-being come into existence?“, I wondered. „How can all people be connected with... Oh! The internet!“

„Not the internet itself, no, but it will be a part of it, yes“, Mr Tuniak said. „In the future it will be more and more difficult to distinguish between man and machine. Even at the time of the births of my mothers, a clear distinction is no longer possible.

Hearing that a thought came to mind, one I was not sure if I should find it funny or frightening. „So, everything that is part of the internet now, will also be a part of this gestalt of humankind?“

„Yes“, Mr Tuniak said.

„Is that the reason why you wanted me to publish your biography on the internet?“, I asked, following a new thought. „So that you... your history will become a part of this gestalt as well?“

Mr Tuniak nodded.

„I still can't really imagine that every one... every single human being will become part of this“, I said. „Or how the world will look like.“

„That's why the transition to this... new world is called a singularity“, Mr Tuniak said. „Whatever happens afterwards, we, who have been born before it, can not hope to completely understand or foresee it. And as always, there will be exceptions. There will be small groups of people who will refuse to join such a gestalt and who will continue to life their lives apart from everyone else. But not many.“

„Will that be the only gestalt?“, I asked.

„I don't know“, Mr Tuniak admitted. „But I don't think so. Especially, considering that light speed would be a limiting factor, when...“ He never finished the sentence. He obviously alluded to something he had not wanted to mention. But that small bit of information was enough to sent my thoughts racing. Lightspeed! If people were travelling to other planets, maybe even to other stars, they would be too far away to participate in the gestalt on Earth. But maybe they would start to form their own gestalt. One in every solar system...

„We will travel among the stars“, I whispered and Mr Tuniak nodded.

And so ended my acquaintance with Alexander Tuniak.

Pourquoi pleurez-vous? M'avez-vous cru immortel?

(Why do you cry? Did you think I was immortal?)

- Louis XIV

Now I understand what Mr Tuniak was trying to do, when he warned me about today. I didn't see him, not really, because...

But – as usual – I should start at the beginning.

When I went to the building, where Mr Tuniak's office was located, his driver was already waiting for me at the main entrance.

“Come with me”, he said and together we went to the limousine.

We drove out to the cabin, where the time machine was usually hidden, but today the cabin was completely empty. We had to wait.

“She will come in a minute”, the driver said. “We are a bit early.”

“I never asked you about your name, did I?”, I said.

“Erik”, he introduced himself and we shook hands, as if this was the first time we had seen each other.

Then the time machine appeared.

It didn't appear inside the cabin, but in front of it. And when the door at its side opened, it wasn't Mr Tuniak standing there, but Juliette. She had arrived alone. She didn't seem to be much older than me, so I guessed that not much time had passed for her either, since we had last met last week.

“About half a year”, she said, as I asked her about the last time we had met from her point of view.

“And I see that you decided to keep the time machine”, I said.

“I have seen the future”, she replied. “And there... no one there would want the time line to be changed, they want it to stay the way it is. I... I think that is my mission.”

Erik had also entered the time machine and Juliette activated the computer. Once we had arrived and the door had opened again, she pointed to us and gestured that we should stay inside. She exited and returned after a few moments. She was accompanied by an old man, who had four arms. Farid. We had to be in the future, because I knew that Farid had been born around 1960 and now he had to be at least eighty years old. But before I was able to peek outside and take a look at our surroundings, the door had closed and we were on our way again.

Farid nodded as a greeting in my direction and then he and Erik talked to each other, using sign language. Next, we picked up another old man who introduced himself as Sean – he was the man who had first welcomed Mr Tuniak to the Gemini Foundation. Then – after another jump through time – an old woman entered. I saw how Sean started to weep, as he looked at her. He hugged and embraced her for as long as he could. Erik explained to me that the woman was Dilara, his wife. But it was obvious that they hadn't seen each other for quite some time.

“All right, we are here everyone”, Juliette declared at our next stop.

We all left the time machine. We had landed close to a cemetery, which was surrounded by a low stone wall. Behind us where the ruins of a village. It looked as if it had been a very long time indeed since someone had lived in this place. I don't know where on the planet this ghost town was located, but the air was agreeable warm, despite of the clouds blocking most of the sky. The abandoned village was in the middle of a green and level country, but close to the horizon I could see the first peaks of a mountain range. I did not try to find any further clues as to where I was, because I realised that I didn't even know if we had travelled into the future or the past during our last trip. So, trying to figure out where we were, was just a pointless exercise.

There was already quite a crowd gathered inside the cemetery. The time machine, with which we had arrived, disappeared again. But only for a very short time. When it reappeared, four people exited it. Then an old man was helping an old woman in a wheelchair to get out. As I followed those two, they were walking towards the cemetery, I realised that the woman had to be Cailinn and the man therefore probably was Hugo. The time machine went on another trip and brought another bunch of people to this place in the middle of nowhere. Apart from Erik and me, I estimated everyone present there to be at least seventy years old, many of them even older.

Inside the cemetery, I saw Philip who was standing together with four other people, who were – at least I am fairly certain of it – like him immortals. Another man, Yuuto, walked up to them and they started talking to each other. All over the cemetery people had formed similar small groups and where laughing and talking with each other. Some of them cried and embraced others. Another thirty minutes passed, before everyone, who was expected to arrive, had arrived.

Then, as if a silent signal had been given, everyone started to move to one side of the cemetery. We all went to a grave close to the outer stone wall. I could tell from the loose and dark earth that it had only recently been dug and filled up again. There was a head stone at its top, but there was only one name engraved in it: Alexander. While all the guest formed a semi-circle around the grave, I looked at the head stones of the surrounding graves. Everywhere I looked, only the first name of the person buried there had been written on them. Some I seemed familiar to me, most of them not and many very pretty much unreadable. They had been standing here for too long.

Suddenly, I could hear music. Two men and a woman had brought instruments with them. I hadn't recognized them as such, because at first I had thought the instruments were simply their walking sticks. But the sticks of the woman and one of the man had strings attached to its side and the stick of the other man turned out to be a flute. I did not recognize the piece they played, but it seemed to be happy and sad at the same time, wistful and a bit mourning.

Once they had finished, a man stepped in front of the grave. It took me a moment, but then I recognized him. It was Mowgli. His hair had turned white as ash and he was stood there, his back bent, his eyes fixed on the ground. He started to tell a story, an “adventure” he had experienced together with Mr Tuniak. He told about the time Mr Tuniak and he went to climb in a mountain range where the mountains were as sharp as knifes. I smiled as I heard that. Mr Tuniak had told me of this some time ago and I noticed a few subtle differences in the way both men talked about their shared experience.

Then Mowgli stepped back into the semi-circle and the musicians began to play anew. This time it sounded like some old Indian song; maybe it was a tribute to Mowgli.

Next, Alice stepped in front of the grave. She told a tale of curiosity, when she, Sarina and Mr Tuniak travelled back into Ancient Times to observe Alexander the Great and how he used his diving bell to see the bottom of the sea. Her story was again followed by a music piece, but this time, again, I couldn't tell where or when it had been written.

Cailinn followed her. She talked about the theft of a telautograph – it's something like a primitive version of a fax machine – and how Mr Tuniak helped her and Hugo to find the thief and get it back. After her a man I did not know talked in a language I did not understand. I don't think I was the only one who did not know what he was saying, but somehow that did not matter. Sooner or later, everyone stepped in front of the grave and told a story. Most of the time I did understand, what they were saying, but not always. The people gathered seemed to come from every corner of the world and from as many different time periods. They all talked about a moment of their live, an incident, they experienced together with Mr Tuniak.

It was night already, when the last person – he was talking in Latin and I think he was an actor from Ancient Rome – finished his story. A final music pieced was performed, after which we all started to move away from the grave, mostly in small groups. Most people talked about how they had known Mr Tuniak, stuff they had done with him or simply other incidents from their lives. I saw two people “talking” to each other, who could not understand what the other was saying: they needed two other people to act as translators. There was a surprising amount of laughter, when people retold – at that moment – embarrassing incidents, which, looking back, were quite funny. But there were also tears, especially once the time machine started to appear again and took people back to the time and place where they had come from.

“You did well”, someone said to me.

I turned around and saw that Alice was standing behind me. “What do you mean?”, I wanted to know.

“Writing his biography”, she replied. “You know, at first I was disappointed, when Alexander told me that he didn't want me to write it. But I think I now know, why he didn't. I would have told a different story.”

“A different story?”, I repeated. “Didn't he tell me the truth?”

“Of course he did”, she said. “But it was his version of the truth, his view on how things have happened. I would have written something slightly different, I would have written my version of his life.”

Erik and me were the last people that Juliette took back. As I entered the time machine, I saw an old woman standing in the shadows of the cemetery's wall. Juliette saw her as well and gave her a nearly imperceptible nod. I think it was Juliette – an older Juliette – who had been standing there.

“Everyone present... everyone except Erik and me... they were all quite old”, I said.

“Yes”, Juliette replied. “I picked them all up at the end of their lives.”

As she said that, I suddenly realised that this funeral had not been for Mr Tuniak alone.

“But I didn't see his mothers”, I said.

“Did you expect them to attend?”, Juliette asked. “Which parent would like to see their child buried? But they are themselves buried at that cemetery.”

One last note:

When we were back in the limousine and driving home, I asked Erik why he had attened the funeral and not an “older version” of himself.

“Ah”, he shrugged. “You have forgotten that I am already dead.”

Yes, I had. How could I?

NEXT WEEK

Spoilers!

Tu n'as pas à le [l'avenir] prévoir, mais à le permettre.

(You don't have to foresee it [the future], you only have to enable it.)

- Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Mr Tuniak's office was empty. I would have never thought that it was possible for a man with a time machine to be late for a meeting, but that was what apparently had happened today. At least, that was my first thought. My second one was that something must have happened to Mr Tuniak. But before I could pursue that thought any further, my mobile phone rang. It was Mr Tuniak calling. He had forgotten to tell me that he wanted to meet me directly at the car park, because we would be going to the time machine.

So I took the lift down and went to the limousine, where Mr Tuniak was already waiting for me. His hair was cut short again and he had shaved off his beard, but he didn't seem a lot younger because of that. In his hand he was holding a wooden cane in which strange patterns had been carved.

“This is going to be our last meeting today”, Mr Tuniak said during the drive.

“Why?”, I asked. “What about next week and the week after that?”

Mr Tuniak smiled for a moment. “I should have been more precise. I meant that this was the last meeting for me.”

“So... you have already...”, I started, not really knowing at the moment how to finish the question. “You have already been to our next meetings?”

“Yes”, Mr Tuniak confirmed. “Next week you are going to speak to... someone else. And no matter what you are going to see, what is shown to you, do not be concerned. We will most definitely see each other again in two weeks. I should know, because I have just come from there.”

“Is this the first time that you are experiencing our meetings in another order than me?”

“Yes”, Mr Tuniak said. “And you will soon know why. But I mentioned it, because I felt it was important to tell you... not to be concerned about next week.”

“Five minutes ago, I wasn't”, I replied. “And where are we travelling to today?”

“I have to take care of a few loose ends”, Mr Tuniak said. “Do you remember where the time machine gets its energy from?”

“There's this... charging station in Gibraltar”, I said.

“Have you never wondered why no one has ever found any traces of it? That not a single thing of it has survived?”

“No, not really”, I said. “Didn't you built this station about five million years ago? I wouldn't expect anything to survive for such a long time.”

“Ah, the materials we used for it could weather everything thrown at them for such a long period, that wouldn't be a problem”, Mr Tuniak explained. “The technology we used for its construction comes from the future, your future. There they know how to create things that last. Take the time machine, as another example. It is now about two hundred years old and still works as well as it did when it was first switched on.”

“And then Juliette is also going to use it... it must function for about three hundred years, taken all together”, I said.

Mr Tuniak nodded. “Although I have heard Juliette complain from time to time that things do not work the way they used to. Ah, here we are.”

We had arrived at the time machine.

We travelled into the distant past – about five million years into the past – to Gibraltar. The big water fall I had seen here the last time we had come to this place and which had turned a huge salt desert into the Mediterranean. Gibraltar had turned into a sea gate, one of a hundred on this planet. It was a nice day, with few clouds and a warm sun, and I could see the coat of Africa without any problem.

But my attention was focused somewhere else. The time machine, which I had just exited, was standing right next to two other identical looking time machines (which, strictly speaking, where the same one, just at different points in its “life”). Mr Tuniak's mothers, Helen and Maria, and Juliette had come as well. I did not ask them about their respective ages, but they must have been about the same age as Mr Tuniak, i.e. about a hundred years old. They had all come to the end of their journeys. In the future – and I mean everyone's future, no matter the point of view – no one would need the charging station any more. It had become pointless any way, since the source of its energy, the waterfall of Gibraltar, didn't exist any more anyway.

I would have asked the question of how it could be possible for four old people to dismantle the whole station, but the answer was obvious and right in front of my eyes: robots. Dozens of small machines, not much bigger than my hand and looking like metallic insects, were crawling on and through the station, removing cables, plates, bolts... Everything they took, they put into boxes which were standing right next to the machine. Nothing got lost. Once one box was full, they took it and put it into one of the open time machines. When one of them – Juliette's – was filled with such boxes, Juliette entered it and it disappeared. But only for a few seconds. Then it reappeared again, but now all the boxes had gone. Immediately the insect-robots started to fill it again.

“Where are you taking all the parts?”, I asked.

“I will show you in a moment”, Mr Tuniak said. “Come!”

His time machine had been loaded as well and was now ready to depart. As we entered it, I saw that several of the insect-robots had stayed inside and where going to come with us. Their job was it to unload all the boxes again, once we had arrived wherever we were going.

After we had landed and I had gotten out of the time machine, the only thing I could tell about the place where I found myself in now, was that it looked like a huge warehouse.

“I don't know this place”, I said. “Where are we?”

“Far below the surface of the Earth”, Mr Tuniak said, while watching the insect-robots carry all the boxes out of the time machine and putting them next to the ones they had brought here during earlier trips.

“We are in the beyul?”, I asked.

“Yes”, Mr Tuniak said. “We are nearly at its lowest level here.”

“But you haven't shown me this level the last time we were here”, I said.

“No, because all the stuff in this place is from your future”, Mr Tuniak explained. “Or did you think that I would stop collecting artefacts that were created after your present?”

“I guess... never really thought about it”, I said. Although I have known Mr Tuniak for nearly a year now, I still struggled from time to time with the fact that what I considered to be the present, wasn't the same thing as what he considered it to be. If he even considered any time his “present”. “Do you stop to collect at any time?”

“About three hundred years into your future”, Mr Tuniak said.

“What happens in three hundred years?”, I mumbled. I knew that Mr Tuniak would not answer that question, since he was very careful about telling me anything that would happen in the future from my point of view. But I could see that he had heard the question and was smiling, because of it. “What are you going to do with your travel journals?”

“Travel journals?”

“The books you kept at Gibraltar and where you wrote down when and where you could be found.”

“They will also be stored here”, Mr Tuniak explained. “Right next to a complete printed version of my biography you are writing.” He pointed to a binder standing in one of the shelves between two boxes. I would have liked very much to take a quick look at what was written in there, but I knew that he would never allow that.

It took the insect-robots several hours to take down the charging station, separate all its parts and store them in boxes. When he had taken the last of those into the beyul, I turned to Juliette and asked: “And what's going to happen with the time machine? Will it also be stored here?”

“No”, said Juliette. “I am going to destroy it. Time machines are too dangerous.”

Mr Tuniak frowned when he heard that. “But not here on Earth, right?”, he asked.

“No, I will program it to fly into outer space and destroy itself there”, Juliette explained. “Earth will not be affected. Actually, I think I already know when it will happen and while it won't have any effect on Earth, it will be detected from it.”

“Really? When?” Mr Tuniak was honestly interested.

“1977”, Juliette replied. “Have you ever heard of the WOW-signal? I think it was caused by the destruction of the time machine.”

We said our good-byes, but Mr Tuniak and I stayed behind and waited until his mothers and Juliette had disappeared with their time machines. “Do you know where we are going to go next?”, he asked me.

“No”, I said, shaking my head. “Should I know?”

“This is my final journey and I only have to take care of one more thing”, Mr Tuniak said.

“Who gets the time machine after you”, I realised. “We are going to Paris in the 1960ies!”

When he had landed, I stayed behind in the time machine while Mr Tuniak went out. But I didn't have to wait for long. After a few minutes he came back, accompanied by Juliette Belloq. Now, she was about the same age as I was.

“I have just come from the bazaar”, she said. “Is there anything else you want to show me?”

“I want to give you something”, Mr Tuniak said. “This time machine. You told us that time travelling is dangerous. Because of that, who would be better suited than you to make sure that history takes its course?” As he said that, his poker face did not show the slightest hint of him knowing that one day she would have to stop him from making a big mistake.

“But how should I know what is supposed to happen, what is right and wrong?”, Juliette asked. “This is exactly the reason why I did not continue my research. Being able to travel through time gives too much power to one person and now you want me to become that person?” She looked at him gravely. “Do I even have a choice? Don't you already know what I am going to say? From your point of view, haven't I already made my decision?”

“No, you haven't”, Mr Tuniak replied. “If your decision was fixed... if all decisions were pre-ordained, then it would not be possible for anyone to change the course of history.” He activated the computer of the time machine. “You will not abuse the time machine, you should have a little more faith in you. I have it. And to answer the question you asked earlier: Yes, I do want to show you something else. The future.” My heart began to race, as I heard that. “But first, we are going to drop my friend here off in his own time.”

Oh, for....

NEXT WEEK

Pourquoi pleurez-vous? M'avez-vous cru immortel?

Oh, there's just one more thing...

- Columbo

Last week, as we were driving back to the city from the time machine, Mr Tuniak said: “In all the meetings we have had, I have told you about my past... By now we have, more or less, arrived at a point which you could call my present. After all, you have just witnessed part of my life... well, live.” I nodded, while at the same time trying to write down everything I had seen and felt in Ancient Rome in my note book. “You of course know what comes after the past and the present...”

I looked up at him in surprise: “The future?”

He nodded in agreement. “But before I talk to you about the future, I thought it might be a good idea, to really... end all things concerning the past. I would ask you to think about questions until next week. What else do you want to know, regarding my past? What else should I tell you? What did I forget, but you think it might be important? Do you know what I'm talking about?”

“I think I do”, I said.

“So I'll leave it completely up to you what we are going to talk about next week.”

But as I was thinking about possible questions the next day, another thought struck me. I thought that it might be better if someone else than me was asking the questions. I called Mr Tuniak and (when I finally managed to get him on the phone), I suggested to him that not I, but my friend, who had already interviewed him once several months ago, would be posing the questions. He agreed with that idea, so, once more, I leave the blog in her capable hands.

Like last time, I will again skip the greetings and the usual small-talk at the beginning of such interviews and we will go right in medias res:

I: Mr Tuniak: Probably one of the first questions that come to mind if someone is told about your life is: Do you regret anything?

T: Yes, that I tried to change the course of history. Or, to be more precise: Not the fact that I tried to change it itself, but that other people, who were basically caught up in my plans did, because of them, not achieve what they might have achieved had I not interfered.

I: Well, you mentioned that already... Maybe I should rephrase that question, I was thinking more about... Someone once said that the things we did not do are among those we regret the most...

T: Samuel... Mark Twain said something like that.

I: Right, I forgot that you were friends with him. So, are there things you regret not having done?

T: As a child I never celebrated any birthdays.

I: Why? You did know on which day you were born, didn't you?

T: Of course, but since I was born in the 90ies and came to the Island Leviathan in the 60ies, this day was thirty years in the future. Also: I did so many journeys with my mothers in the time machine that we were never sure when threehundredsixtyfive days had passed for me.

I: All right, I accept that, but that was during your childhood. And, if you will permit that observation, it doesn't seem as if that is something that really bothers you.

T: No, it didn't. But you asked the question.

I: And I think that you have given me an answer that's technically correct, but at the same time you evaded the meaning behind my question. Is there something in your life that you did not do and which, given the opportunity, you would do if you had another chance? Something you wish that you had done differently?

T: Of course, everyone has things, decisions like those. But I don't like to dwell on those, because I had the opportunity to see and do so many other things. One can't always get everything one wants, but... Well, the one thing I really wish that I had taken time for is learning to play an instrument. To play music.

I: You never played any instrument?

T: For a short time, when I was a child on Leviathan, I tried to play the violin. But I never really pursued it.

I: But music in general...

T: Oh, I like to listen to music. I think it's... It's difficult to put into words, which, incidentally, is exactly the thing I like most about it. Music expresses emotions without any words. And it's not like, let's say a painting where you have one image in front of you. A good piece of music tells everyone a different story and sometimes even the same person can hear different stories depending on the time he hears it.

I: And if music is so important to you, as it obviously is, then why didn't you try to learn to play an instrument?

T: I had too much else to do. Travelling around... Only in the last few years I have had something like a regular schedule and would have time to learn one, but I fear that it is too late now.

I: You said that you liked to listen to music. Any particular style or time you prefer?

T: Not especially, no. When they started to collect music from all of history for the beyul, I did a lot of work there. And there are many recordings we did which I copied for my private use. Often, before I travel to a different time period, I listen to music of that period to basically get in the right mood for it.

I: Is there anything else you regret?

T: Yes, a few small things, but why do you want to talk about those?

I: I was told I could choose the topics of today's conversation.

T: You can, of course, you can. I never really learned to cook, I regret that a bit. I did try and taste dishes from all of the world and throughout time, but I never really did any cooking myself, nothing big or special at least... You don't seem satisfied with that answer either.

I: I was expecting something else.

T: Really? What do you think I should regret the most?

I: You never had a child, you never married... I have read all the entries in the blog, but you never mentioned anything like that.

T: Because I consider that private.

I: You want to write a biography, but leave things out of it because they are “private”?

T: There are gaps in every biography, I'm sure you know that. None of them tell the whole truth, at least none that I know of. Biographies, even though they are based on true events, still tell a story and for the story I wanted to tell with mine those parts of my life are not important. Still, of course, if you read between the lines...

I: You didn't seem to have that particular problem when talking about other people.

T: I can assure you that I asked everyone if it was all right with them if I mentioned them in my biography before actually talking about them.

I: I mean people like Hugo Delake.

T: What about him?

I: You only mentioned him once or twice and as far as I can tell, you could write down your biography... your story without talking about him and you would loose nothing.

T: Oh, that... That was not my decision. I did tell more about him – I once helped him solve a case...

I: You were a detective? An investigator?

T: No, no, I was more like a technical consultant. It was in 1881 or 1882 and a suspect managed to get himself an alibi by using a photophone. It was a very recent invention back then, so Hugo didn't really know what you could do with one.

I: What's a photophone?

T: It's basically a telephone but instead of using cables and electric impulses to transmit the voice, it uses light beams. That way you can communicate with places where there are no telephone lines yet and that way the suspect made it appear as if he was somewhere else during the crime.

I: And you talked about that case?

T: Yes, I did. But because a blog entry has to be finite, some things have to be cut. And this was one of those things that got radically cut, so that all that survived from it was, basically, Hugo's name. It happened to a few other people and incidents as well.

I: Another topic you mostly refused to talk about is the future. The future from my point of view, I mean. But now you have said that you want to do that. So, what changed your mind?

T: I still won't talk about the future of the world, the big picture, if you will, but about my personal one.

I: You will talk about things you still have planned?

T: Precisely.

I: Another question, that's seems quite obvious, is the one Doctor Faust had to answer: What about religion? Do you count yourself as a member of one religion? Would you describe yourself as a person with a strong belief?

T: I would describe myself as an agnostic. You see, the problem I have with saying that there is a higher power – and I'm not even going into detail about how this higher power might look like – then there is the danger of me stopping to question things. I stop looking for explanations as soon as I accept “because a god did it” as an answer. And that's something I can't accept.

I: Sounds to me you are more like an atheist.

T: No, not at all. I do not deny that there could be a higher power watching over us. I don't know and I can't say that I'm leaning one way or the other in regard to that question. I can accept that there may be things for which we will never have an explanation, but I think it's wrong to define such things through... a doctrine. In advance. It should be possible to question everything, although you have to be prepared for the possibility that you might not find an answer and never will.

I: Since you are a time traveller, you can choose to live in any time you want. But is there a time you would consider as 'your time'.

T: The last forty, fifty years and the coming decade, I would say. Measured from your point of view.

I: Why?

T: Because that's the time in which most of my friends are living in. Also, as I have mentioned previously, I do think of the school at Leviathan as my home and like everything, it won't exist forever.

I: With your time machine you can't only travel to any time you like, but also to every place. Have you ever considered to travel to another planet? Mars, for instance?

T: I did think about it, several times, yes. It was an idea I did consider from time to time. But the thing is that a travel with my time machine may appear to be a simple and easy affair, but there are quite complicated calculations necessary to perform it. And as good as the computer of the time machine is, travelling to another planet would require calculations that are beyond even its formidable capacitites.

The whole interview was of course quite a bit longer, but – as with everything presented here – I had to cut it down. Since this is a topic they talked about during the interview, I thought it only fair to mention that fact.

NEXT WEEK

Tu n'as pas à le [l'avenir] prévoir, mais à le permettre.

Is it a comedy or a tragedy?

- Connie Willis, “All Clear”

I wrote last week that Mr Tuniak's unusual appearance had surprised and distracted me. In retrospect he had looked basically the same way he always does. That, at least, was the thougth that first crossed my mind when I saw him today. The man who was waiting for me...

Mr Tuniak was sitting on the couch in front of the book shelves. His beard was even longer than last week, it reached down to his breast. His hair had also grown longer and appeared unwashed. He wore a grey toga, which had several small holes and was also clearly in need of a cleaning. On the floor in front of him lay a long wooden stuff, at least as long as he was tall.

I greeted him with a short „Ave“ to which he responded with a small smile. I could see that he had even coloured his teeth yellow. „What happend to you?“, I asked.

„Convincing, isn't it?“, a voice said.

Surprised, I turned around to face the desk. I hadn't noticet that a third person was in the room with us. I recognized her immediately as Sarina. She looked to be around sixty years old and wore glasses. She also had, as a joke I presumed, a monocle for her third eye.

„Today we are going to travel to Ancient Rome“, Mr Tuniak said. „But we are going to be as inconspicious as possible there, so we have to dress up.“

„I have prepared a tunic for you“, Sarina said. She pointed at a screen that hid a corner of the office.

I went behind the screen and began to change. The tunic was a big too bit and hung down to my knees. The fabric it was made of felt rough and like Mr Tuniak's toga it had holes and was dirty. No, I must correct myself: It was made to appear dirty. Looking at it up close I saw that the „dirt“ was part of the fabric and the tunic didn't smell either. I also found a pair of sandals, made of some kind of leather that looked like the flip-flops you can buy in shops today (later I learned that those shoes were called solea and were only worn indoors).

„Shall I put on those sandals as well?“, I asked.

„No, just take them with you“, Mr Tuniak replied. „We put those on when we get out of the time machine. I don't find them very comfortable for walking.“

I walked back in front of the screen. Sarina had prepared a huge piece of cloth which I at first thought was a sail for a surf board or maybe even for a small sailing boat.

„What is that?“, I asked

„Your toga“, Sarina answered.

„It's at least three times my size!“

I don't know how she did it, but she wound that toga so many times around me that in the end I really did appear – if you didn't look at it too closely – like someone who had just come from Ancient times. I tried to take a few steps. The toga nearly dropped to the floor.

„Wait a second“, Sarina said and fixed the cloth with a hidden broche. „Now, you should be able to move more easily.“

I tried again to walk a few steps, carefully, and this time the toga did not drop to the floor. „It is... unusual“, I said. „But I guess, if you are used to wear this every day of your life...“

„...it wouldn't become any more comfortable“, Mr Tuniak finished. „I don't know who invented the toga, but I think it is quite obvious that he wanted to torture the Romans. You canj believe me, even in Ancient times, when this was wore by everyone, no one particularly liked it.“

„Then why did they wear it?“, I asked.

„As a symbol of wealth“, Mr Tuniak said. „Come on, let's get to the time machine.“ He got up and took his staff. All three of us then went down to the car.

Exiting the time machine, I found that we had appeared in a narrow canyon, with a small river running through it. Mr Tuniak came after me, but it had been decided that Sarina would stay behind. Mr Tuniak had explained to me that he would be pretending to be an old fortune teller, a seer, and I was to be his dumb assistant. Dumb, because I couldn't speak Latin, of course. But I had a little radio in my ear which connected me with Sarina back in the time machine. Sarina could hear everything I heard and would provide a real time translation of everything that was said. That way I could at least understand what was happening around me.

We went on our way.

We had walked for nearly two hours, before we reached the next city. Mr Tuniak had had to hide the time machine at a safe distance and with our shoes it was impossible to walk at a fast pace. On the street that led to the city, we met several other people, but none of them greeted us. Once we even had to move quickly aside, when a horse drawn-carriage was moving past.

„That's not Rome up there, is it?“ I whispered.

„No, we are south of Rome“, Mr Tuniak replied in a similarly silent voice.

„There seem to be a lot of people around“, I said.

„Yes, today is market day and a theatre has also come to town“, Mr Tuniak explained. Then he gave me a sign to signal that we shouldn't talk any more.

The sign probably wouldn't have been necessary. All around me there was so much to see that I wasn't able to formulate any sentences anyway. The market seemed familiar and strange at the same time. Familiar, because there was basically not much difference between this market two thousand years in my past and the markets one can still find, especially in villages out in the country. The goods at offer were praised in a loud voice, customers tried to get the best price for whatever they wanted to buy and there where stands which offered snacks (although I'm sure they didn't call it 'snacks' back then, but something different). Strange, because the people were talking in a language, I couldn't understand, wore clothes that seemed foreign and old to me and because the smells were unlike any other I had experienced in any market I had been to so far. There were jugglers and musicians. Beggars and preachers. I am pretty sure that there was also a flourishing black market, because several times I thought I saw people who did not want to be seen and who gestured to potential customers to follow them aside.

We were walking towards a temple. Several steps led to the huge main entrance of the building. Even there people crowed and pushed against each other. There were several statues which seemed to guard the temple. I remembered that I had read once that the reason old statues don't appear to have pupils, is that originally the pupils were painted. And the statues I saw there were painted. But only in the face. The clothes they “wore”, the arms or other things they held, all of that was painted in countless colours. Nothing was bleak and white, the way we are used to it nowadays.

I was so fascinated from this new world that I had entered, that I forgot to watch Mr Tuniak for a moment and because of all the people around us, lost him. Looking around, going up and down, it was impossible to find any trace of him in the crowd. For a moment I felt panic. Without Mr Tuniak there was no way for me to return to my time and as much as I liked this old city, as much as I was fascinated by it, there was no way that I wanted to spend the rest of my life there. Luckily, Mr Tuniak had a radio in his ear as well and with Sarina's help we soon found each other again. Afterwards, I never let Mr Tuniak out of my eyes.

We continued walking through the city for about half an hour. The whole time we stayed close to the market. It was obvious to me that Mr Tuniak was looking for something or someone. As we were entering a street with fewer people, I risked it and asked as quietly as possible: “What are you looking for?”

“I'm looking for a young boy who, just like you, has gotten lost”, Mr Tuniak replied. “But I'm not quite sure where...” Then he lapsed back into silence.

We continued. From time to time Mr Tuniak talked to a few people and (I only understood this because of Sarina's translations) offered them his services as a fortune teller. But no one took him up on that offer. I didn't think he expected to. He just wanted to avoid drawing attention to himself by not doing anything, I guess.

Suddenly he stopped. He took my arm and with his staff he pointed to a market stand, several metres in front of us. In front of it, a small, young boy was standing. He must have been four or five years old and he was looking around and searching for someone. It took me a moment, before I realised that the boy was looking for his parents.

Mr Tuniak gave me a sign to tell me that I should follow him, but leave a bit of a distance between us. Then he walked towards the boy. The closer we came, the more I felt as if I knew the boy. But surely, that was ridiculous? I wasn't going to be born for another two thousand years, so whom could I possibly know...?

And suddenly I knew, who the boy was.

Alexander had lost his mothers. Together, they had gone to the theatre, but suddenly – during the play – they had decided to leave and had left their seats. Alexander didn't understand why. They had promised him that they would tell him how the play ended, but he couldn't shake the feeling that they wouldn't. He was sure that something was happening at the end that he was not supposed to see.

As a way to make up for it, they had gone to the market, but because there were so many people there and even though Maria had held his hand since leaving the theatre, he had somehow manage to loose both of them. Now he was alone and didn't know what to do.

“Did you loose your parents?”, a man asked. He was old and dirty and looked like a beggar. Alexander didn't answer and took a step back. “Don't be afraid”, the old man said. “I am a seer and I can see into your future.”

“Nobody can see into the future”, Alexander said defiantly.

“I can”, the old man assured him. “And I can promise you that you will lead a great... no, a fantastic life. I see that you will travel around the whole world. You will see things that no one else or very few other people have seen. You will meet many people and most of them will become your friends... There will be times, of course, when you will feel sad, but I promise you that those times, those moments, are few and will pass quickly.”

Alexander took another step back. The old man had only used general phrases and mentioned nothing specific. The life he described could be true for a lot of people. But in spite of that Alexander felt that the old man knew more about himself than he himself did. “Do you know where my mothers are?”, he asked.

“Yes”, said the old man. “Come!” He offered Alexander his hand, but the boy didn't take it. The old man shrugged and started walking. Alexander followed him. They had only gone a few dozen metres, when the old man stopped again. He pointed to the steps in front of the temple and there Alexander saw both his mothers. They saw him too and came running towards him. Helen took him in his arms and pressed him tightly against her. Maria looked at the old man who had accompanied him.

“He found you”, Alexander explained.

“Did you?”, Maria said. “And who are you?”

“Just an old seer”, the man replied.

“Mhm.” Maria did not sound convinced. She threw him a coin and said: “If you are a seer then tell me this about the life of my son: Is it a comedy or a tragedy?”

“A comedy”, the old man said and disappeared in the crowd.

“I wanted to tell myself so much more”, Mr Tuniak said, as we were walking back to the time machine, the city safely behind us. No one else was close, so we could talk again. “But once I saw... myself, I...”

“Do you remember this meeting?”, I wanted to know.

“Not really”, he said. “I remember having been lost once in a market and that an old man helped me find my mothers, but nothing else.”

“Do you think your mothers recognized you? Or suspected who you were?”

“I think so. Otherwise they wouldn't have asked their question.”

“Comedy or tragedy? You would describe your life as a comedy?”

“Yes, but you have to remember that we are in Ancient Times now. The word comedy has a slightly different meaning to the one you are used to”, Mr Tuniak said. “A comedy isn't necessarily a funny story. It simply means a story with a happy ending.”

NEXT WEEK

Oh, there's just one more thing...

And now I think I am quite ready to go on another journey.

- J.R.R. Tolkien, „The Lord of the Rings“

„I want to talk about my last journey today“, Mr Tuniak said. „Or... my last big journey, to be more precise. I went to America, to the United States in 1926.“

“Did you travel alone?”, I wanted to know.

“No, I was accompanied by Cailinn”, Mr Tuniak replied. “The whole journey, the idea for it, was hers. She would have done it with our without me. We met in London and boarded a ship there that would take across the Atlantic Ocean.”

I should have asked right there, why they didn't take the time machine to be quicker, but I have to admit that I was distracted today. Today, Mr Tuniak was sporting a full beard and his hair was so long that it nearly touched his shoulders. I have mentioned before that each time I met him there have often been subtle differences in his appearance, but never as drastic and radical as this time. At least, that's what I am claiming and using as an excuse for not paying full attention.

Mr Tuniak continued: “We got off the ship in New York and from there we took a train that would take us to Auburn, Massachusetts.”

Cailinn had hired several porters to take care of all their luggage and equipment and to carry it to their train. This way, she and Alexander didn't have to carry any suitcases as they were looking for the departure platform. Cailinn was about seventy years old and Alexander estimated that he was at least ten years older than her. All around them people hurried to the trains or the exits, but they were not in any hurry themselves.

“I think that there is our train”, Alexander said. “In which car are our seats?”

“You don't have to pretend as if you don't know”, Cailinn said. “We have a whole vehicle, of course. My vehicle.”

Alexander stopped walking in surprise. “You still have it?”, he asked. “I have read about it in the Gemini archives, but I thought you had sold it the last time you were here.”

“I did”, Cailinn said. “But Michael was nice enough to lend it to me for the time I am here. He is in California at the moment and will stay there for the next several months, so he has no need of it. Come on!”

They reached the last car which was a bit shorter than the others. It had fewer windows too and there was only one entrance. Cailinn and Alexander entered.

Alexander had seen sketches and photos of the inside of the car, but as is usually the case, reality was a bit different. It was also probable that the buyer – Cailinn had never said who he was and Alexander suspected that Michael was not his real name – had made some changes to suit his tastes better. Most of the car was like one big living room. There were sofas at the side, a bar and a library with a writing desk. There was also a small kitchen with a gas stove and a potable water tank. The back part of the car was hidden behind a curtain, but Alexander knew that the bedroom and a bathroom had to be there. The whole car reminded Alexander of a TV series his friend Farid had watched in his childhood, but he couldn't remember its name. He smiled thinking about how even after a century had passed, Gemini would still be influenced by this. Of course, in the future it wouldn't be a train car, they would modify into a moving apartment, but a whole jet plane.

“Would you prepare something to drink? I think I need a whisky”, Cailinn asked. “I'll take care that all of our luggage is safely stored. I don't want the same thing to happen as last time, when they left half of it somewhere in the train station.”

When she came back, they both sat down on the sofas, drinks in hand and Alexander asked: “I have seen you have brought several stilts?”

“And you want to know why, right?”, Cailinn said. “To get as quickly as possible to the rocket, if the experiment should prove to be a success. Those stilts are my seven-leagues boots.”

“Seven-leagues boots?”

“Have you never heard of them? The fairy tale?”

“No, I have, but...” Alexander thought about it for a moment and then he realised how Cailinn planned to use those stilts. The longer they were and the higher up you were standing on them, the bigger the steps would be you could make. As long as you didn't fall down from them, they would be a simple way to move very fast.

“I bought those stilts in France”, Cailinn told him. “I saw shepherds there who used them to be able to get quickly from one end of their herd to the other. And of course they have a better view standing on them. You can try them, if you want to.”

“I have never tried walking on stilts and I'm afraid that now, I am too old to learn it”, Alexander said with clear regret.

“It's really amazing how fast you can move using them”, Cailinn continued. “I remember about... oh, I guess thirty years ago, when I met a baker in France who had used them to travel from Paris to Moscow in fifty-eight days. It's really quite amazing.”

“You had... Cailinn had her own train car?”, I asked. “I guess her financial situation had improved with the years.”

“Yes, it had”, Mr Tuniak agreed.

“Was it her books? Were they that successful?”

“No, not by a long shot. Her books were read, yes, and she earned money thanks to them, but most of her income she got through lectures and acting in an advisory capacity on many projects”, Mr Tuniak explained. “Also: When she bought the train car, it was just an ordinary and old car. She made all the changes herself.”

“And... why was Hugo Delake not with you on that journey?”, I asked. “Had they separated? Or was he dead?”

“Oh, no, far from that, Cailinn and he had married and were still married in 1926”, Mr Tuniak said. “It just that they usually travelled separately, because Cailinn thought they were agreeing to often with each other.” He shrugged. “She wanted to see new things and make new discoveries, but she didn't want to accept those on blind faith. She wanted to question everything and that was easier, she claimed, if you had two people who did not have the same opinion.”

“And thus one of the principles of Gemini was established, I see”, I said. “So, I take it that you two disagreed a lot of the time?”

“No, I didn't count”, Mr Tuniak said with a smile. “I was a time traveller, she thought that I would know the answer to everything anyway.”

“So, why did you travel to Auburn?”

It was a cold morning in March. The plain, where they had gathered, was covered with snow. They were all wearing long coats and thick boots. Robert Goddard was making final preparations. Today, he would test for the first time a rocket that was propelled by liquid fuel.

“I have done several test already in my laboratory last year”, he told Cailinn and several other people who were standing close by to watch the experiment. “It worked quite well, so I am confident that we will get a positive result today.”

Cailinn studied the papers he had given her which contained the notes about those early tries. Most of it, she already knew. Goddard was one of a large group of people she exchanged letters and was in more or less constant contact with. Alexander was standing a bit apart from the group. He had brought a digital video camera and was now filming the proceedings as secretly as possible. Next to him, Cailinn's stilts were lying on the ground.

“Everyone ready?”, Goddard asked.

Cailinn and the other men took several steps backward, so to get a bit of a distance between them and the two metre long rocket, which at the moment, was still held by something that looked a bit like a metal cage.

“Attention!”, Goddard cried and lit the rocket.

At first nothing seemed to happen. A flame was coming out of the engine, but apart from creating a lot of noise it didn't have any visible effects. But then, slowly but surely, Nell – Goddard's name for his rocket – started to rise. The blow back was pushing her towards the sky. Because of the way the rocket was built (with the rocket engine at the top), the flight lasted not even three seconds, but within that time Nell had reached a hight of over twelve metres and came down sixty metres away from the place she had started from. The experiment had proven that it was possible to use a rocket with liquid fuel and could therefore be considered a success. Alexander looked up at the sky, knowing that on this day the first step on a long journey had been taken; a journey that would eventually lead to the moon.

“You told me that this was your last big journey”, I said, finally talking about the question which had formed in my head since Mr Tuniak had started talking today. “Why? Has it something to do with the fact that you didn't use the time machine to cross the Atlantic Ocean?”

“Yes”, Mr Tuniak admitted after a moment's hesitation. Unknowingly, he had placed his right hand on his breast. “Cailinn asked pretty much the same question, when we were still on the ship.”

The ship had survived the thunderstorm with hardly any damage. The same could not be said about the passenger, most of whom had gotten sea sick. Alexander was standing on deck, hands placed on the guard rail and looked out to the far horizon. The sun was mostly hidden behind a thin cover of clouds. Cailinn came to him.

“Well, you don't seem to be affected too much by the bad weather”, she said.

“I'm not”, he said. “I have seen... lived through worse.” He told her about the time in his youth, when the ship he had been on, had passed through such a thunderstorm that he had been swept into the sea.

“It's good that that incident hasn't made you afraid of ships”, Cailinn said, when he had finished. “But why are you here? Why didn't you travel directly to the United States?”

“Because I needed some rest”, Alexander replied. “The beyul is coming along very nicely and for most of the work done there now, they don't need me. But it was exhausting to get to this point... the last few years... I guess, they were too eventful for someone of my age.”

“You had a heart attack”, Cailinn said.

“No, thankfully not”, Alexander said. “It was angina pectoris. My body just wanted to warn me that it couldn't do as much as before.”

“And that's why you stopped travelling?”, I asked.

“No big journeys, at least”, Mr Tuniak answered. “I'm still going on short trips, but never alone. Which reminds me: I wanted to ask you to accompany me on such a trip next week.”

“Of course”, I said immediately. “Are you going to tell me where we are going?”

“No”, Mr Tuniak said with a smile. “But I will tell you that you are going to see part of my biography with your own eyes.”

NEXT WEEK

Is it a comedy or a tragedy?