The Tunnel of Terror

Jarmo and Aisha emerged from the Tunnel of Terror gasping for air, their hearts racing. They had faced one danger after another, but they had made it through alive. The hovercraft they’d taken through Mount Konomara made a few protesting noises, but it was still working.
“One thing I know,” said Aisha. “It wasn’t a good idea to take a vehicle that didn’t have a roof!”
“I guess I have to take my responsibility”, Dorak replied.
It had been about two weeks since they met in such an adventurous way. They had escaped the enemy city with the help of a few friendly Martians. Aisha was a linguist and was completely blown away when Jarmo told her why he had come to this place. She had heard of the legend of the Temple of the Wind Harp. She also knew that the temple obviously really existed, or maybe had existed. She was taking time off from her time as a Fleet officer, so she offered to accompany Jarmo. Maybe he would need someone who could translate languages. They worked closely together for the past two weeks. Even if the time had actually been short, a kind of intimacy had developed between the two. Maybe that came from the special circumstances of their meeting. In any case, they found that they worked well together. Almost as if they had known her not just for two weeks, but for several years. On several occasions, Aisha looked at Jarmo and was reminded of a friend she had known since she was a Fleet cadet. Then she smiled quietly to herself.

She had been able to prove her talent right away. Jarmo had photographed a stone slab in the museum in the city of Aresium. It hadn’t been easy, because the damn Mag’a cult had them hidden in the basement of the museum. To the Mag’a, the inscriptions of the ancient Martians were blasphemy. Luckily they hadn’t scratched the drawings and inscriptions out of the stone. Jarmo had seen that too, beautiful old works of art destroyed by blind faith.
The inscription on the stone slab dealt with the old myth about the so-called “Tunnel of Terror”. And that’s what it really had become, because according to what Jarmo had seen on the maps, it led through a mountain range and left the domed city at a point below ground. However, it would lead somewhere into a valley, and from there the search for clues would continue.

But, Jarmo Aisha had to agree, maybe they should have taken something other than a hovercraft. Or at least a hovercraft with a cockpit. They had indeed found the entrance to the Tunnel of Terror. And they had crossed it. They just got through.

As they stood at the entrance to the tunnel, catching their breath, they looked out at the vast ocean that stretched before them. The shore was rocky and treacherous, but they could see a path leading to a small cove where they could land their hovercraft. Jarmo quickly took out his scanner and began scanning the area for any signs of the Wind Harp. He had been searching for the ancient artifact for years, and he was determined to find it no matter what. The inscription on the stone tablet in the museum had contained a clue: a certain material, a kind of dark rock called lyranium, would show the way and the destination. Luckily, the stone tablet had a piece of lyranium embedded in it, so Jarmo could sample it. His scanner was tuned to the result of the sample and would show him the lyranium if any were nearby.

Aisha walked over to the edge of the water and dipped her toe in. The water was crystal clear and cool against her skin. She smiled, took off her top and pants, and waded out further into the water, beckoning for Jarmo to join her. He also took off his outerwear and followed her. For a few minutes, they forgot about their quest and swam and splashed in the lake, laughing and playing like children. But their fun was short-lived, as a loud rumbling sound interrupted their playtime.

Picture by Jakob Owens / Unsplash.com

They both looked up to see a massive boulder rolling down the hill, heading straight for them. Jarmo grabbed Aisha’s hand and they ran as fast as they could towards the tunnel.

The boulder narrowly missed them and crashed into the water, sending a wave of water and rocks in their direction. They were knocked off their feet and swept up in the current.

As they tumbled downstream, they struggled to regain their footing, but the current was too strong. Suddenly, they were caught in a whirlpool, and Jarmo could see the entrance to the tunnel disappearing from view.

He knew they had to get out of the whirlpool fast, or they would be sucked under. With all his might, he grabbed Aisha and they swam towards the edge of the whirlpool, using all their strength to break free.

Finally, they made it to the edge, exhausted and out of breath. Jarmo looked at Aisha, and they both nodded, silently agreeing that they had to keep going. They had come too far to turn back now. But the hovercraft was no longer of any use to them, so they had to get their backpacks and started walking. The scanner showed a direction that went along the edge of the mountain, always along the water.

Jarmo looked out at the vast expanse of water, and he knew they had a long way to go. But he was determined to find the Wind Harp, no matter what dangers lay ahead. He turned to Aisha and smiled, grateful to have her by his side.

“Let’s go,” he said, and they set off towards the horizon, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

The path ahead was treacherous, but they were determined to keep going. They climbed over boulders, crossed rickety bridges, and navigated through narrow tunnels. They had to dodge falling rocks and debris.

Finally they arrived at a wide expanse, an almost picturesque beach. They put down their backpacks. The sun was already low and created an almost romantic mood. Jarmo checked his scanner.
“We seem to be right,” he stated. “Somewhere on this beach there must be lyranium. But I think it’s too late for today.”
The two set up their camp. The sun was almost down now. But there was still light.

Jarmo and Aisha decided to take a short walk along the beach, the waves lapping at their feet. The sun had almost set, and the sky was a riot of orange and pink hues. Then, Aisha sat down on the sand, and Jarmo joined her, sitting close. They both looked out at the ocean, lost in thought.

“You know,” Aisha said, breaking the silence. “I’ve been alone for a long time.”

Jarmo turned to her, his eyes searching hers. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I’ve spent most of my life searching for something,” Aisha said, her voice soft. “And in doing so, I’ve neglected other parts of my life.”

Jarmo nodded, understanding what she meant. “I know what you mean. I’ve been so focused on finding things that I’ve forgotten what it means to truly live.”

Aisha smiled, turning to look at him. “You know, when I first met you, I thought you were just another adventurer looking for treasure.”

Jarmo grinned, shaking his head. “I’m not looking for treasure. I’m looking for something more.”

“Like what?” Aisha asked, curiosity piqued.

Jarmo hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I’m looking for a purpose. Something that will give my life meaning.”

Aisha’s heart swelled with emotion, and she reached out to touch his hand. “You know, I think you’ve already found it.”

Jarmo looked at her, confusion etched on his face. “What do you mean?”

“I mean us,” Aisha said, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’ve been through so much together in this short time, and we’ve come so far. Maybe that’s what we were both searching for all along.”

Jarmo’s heart raced, and he looked into Aisha’s eyes, seeing the truth in her words. He leaned in closer to her, and without thinking, he kissed her. The kiss was soft and gentle at first, but it quickly grew more passionate as they both realized their feelings for each other.

As they pulled away from the kiss, they looked at each other, their hearts full of love and hope. They knew that they still had a long way to go in their search for the Wind Harp, but now they had each other.

Hand in hand, they walked back to their campsite, their hearts full of love and happiness.


The next morning, Jarmo and Aisha woke up in their small campsite, the sun already up in the sky. They lay in their sleeping bags, looking at each other with a deep sense of contentment.

“Good morning,” Jarmo said, his voice filled with love.

“Good morning to you too,” Aisha replied, a smile spreading across her face.

Jarmo leaned in and kissed her gently, feeling a surge of warmth and happiness spread through his body. “I had the best sleep last night,” he said, looking at Aisha with an expression of pure joy.

“Me too,” Aisha said, her voice soft and tender. “It’s amazing how much difference a good night’s sleep can make.” She emphasized the word “sleep” in a very special way. Jarmo grinned, he understood her perfectly.

He nodded, then got up from his sleeping bag, grabbing his scanner. “I’m going to scan the beach again, see if we can find any more traces of lyranium.”

Aisha watched him go, feeling a deep sense of admiration and affection for him. She picked up her notebook and pen, then set about translating the inscription they had found the previous day. Breakfast? Later!

As she worked, Jarmo came back, his face lit up with excitement. “I found something!” he exclaimed, holding up the scanner. “It’s about 200 meters to the east of here.”

Aisha’s heart raced with anticipation as she followed Jarmo to the location where the scanner had indicated. They started digging in the sand, and after a few minutes, they found a small stone tablet with an inscription.

Aisha examined the tablet, her eyes moving quickly over the ancient symbols. “It’s a map,” she said, her voice filled with excitement. “It shows the location of the Temple of the Windharp. I have to do some more work, but…”

Jarmo looked at her, a huge grin spreading across his face. “That’s incredible! We’re one step closer to finding it!”

Aisha nodded, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for Jarmo’s companionship and support. “I’m glad I went on this adventure with you,” she said, looking at him with love in her eyes.

Jarmo leaned in and kissed her, his heart filled with joy and happiness. “I’m just glad I get to share this journey with you,” he said, his voice filled with emotion.

As they sat on the beach, basking in the glow of their love, they knew that the road ahead would be long and challenging. But they also knew that they had each other, and that was all they needed to face whatever lay ahead. But now it was really time for breakfast.

The Planet of Peril

Photo by Jakob Owens on Unsplash
Surface of Mars. Photo by NASA on Unsplash
Surface of Mars. Photo by NASA on Unsplash

It would have been an exaggeration to describe the planet Mars as “calm”. Scientists on Earth would have said that because the grid hid the events that were taking place on this desert planet from their prying eyes. Life had changed a lot since the climate catastrophe. Mars had previously been made up of large deserts, but it had gotten worse since the atmosphere was no longer renewed. The Martians had withdrawn to domed cities. The domed cities of Mars had always been epicentres for social unrest. And whenever the unrest increased, there was some high-ranking military member who willingly supported a politician. Then propaganda was carried out so that one could emigrate to other planets, one only had to conquer them. However, any attempt to conquer has so far failed. Not even the radical cult that followed the “Eternal” was successful. And in a world like Mars, that meant something.

The domed city Aresium was the capital of the planet. You could say that this was the most civilized place. But that was not an award. “Civilized” was a very relative description on Mars. The dome of Aresium spanned a large crater in the northern hemisphere of the planet. There was the city of Aresium itself with its tall buildings, several parks that were important for the preservation of the air and even a body of water. The water was also important for the ecological balance under the dome. The city had a whole authority that only dealt with the issues of balance.

Jarmo Dorak turned around. He stood close to a building under some sort of sun shield. He wore the black uniform shirt of STAR COMMAND, together with the trousers in khaki colours so everybody near him could recognize him as an officer of the space fleet. But he would have been recognized anyway.

Jarmo Dorak. Picture by ASTROCOHORS.com
Jarmo Dorak. Picture by ASTROCOHORS.com

Jarmo was still fascinated. He had seen inhabitants of other planets in the solar system many times before, but never had so many different ones in one place. They all looked like human beings from Earth, but what made them different was skin color. Of course, they looked like people from Earth, the ACELS had made them from Earth humans and adjusted their DNA. Martians, for example, were characterized by their extremely red skin tone.
“I shouldn’t be staring at her,” Jarmo said to himself. Perhaps the Martians felt that as an insult. And when they were offended, the Martians could get very unpleasant.

The dome’s waters sprang from various sources that were carefully monitored. And pretty much in the middle of the crater they ran into a large lake. The lake was the basis of life for many residents of Aresium. There were fishermen here, but also transport boats. Many goods were transported from one side of the lake to the other. Here, where Jarmo was, was the city’s residential and business district. There were large industrial plants on the other side of the lake. There was, of course, its own weather under the dome and, as so often on Mars, it was warm. The sun did not have the same power as on Earth, but there were fewer clouds. If any.

Jarmo sauntered down a sprawling promenade and reached a large structure that seemed to be made of something similar to wood. A pier, a large jetty that led from the promenade across the beach below into the water. The pier ended at a large platform. Here were small houses or stalls, to be exact. And a…
Was that a crane?

Although Jarmo had noticed the steel scaffolding and also that a lot of Martians were there, but now he realized why they were there. The crane had a winch, from which a rope was led over the boom, which hung down into the water. Jarmo had not seen it at first, but there was a person hanging from the rope! Not the way someone hanged someone to strangle him. No, the rope of the crane was wrapped around the person’s ankles, so that she hung with her head down in the water.
And that was why Jarmo had not noticed the person at first: she had been under water. Now he heard the crowd of Martians next to the crane yelling and screaming. Someone operated the crane and that was cheered on by the crowd.

Jarmo could only guess what the reason for this cruel spectacle was. But it was a very good guess. Because the person who was hanging on the rope was a Terran. And she had a dark skin, probably African roots, even if she did not even come directly from this continent.
Now Jarmo noticed a second group of people who stood aloof, but behaved completely differently. They were crowded together, talking softly. You could see that they did not like the spectacle, but they did not have the courage to intervene. That was no wonder, because all these people belonged to minorities. Green-skinned Venusians, blue-skinned Neptunians, people from Saturn and so forth. And Martian “Un-Pures”.

Jarmo had already heard about it: Amongst the Martians, a kind of “culture of purity” had developed. The pigments in the skin of an average Martians had to be red, then he was “pure”. But in the course of history many peoples had immigrated to the territory of the Solar System. Children from mixed relationships could be recognized immediately by a different skin tone or darker spots. It was simply a whim of nature, nature loved diversity, not monotony. The spots sometimes formed interesting patterns, may have different shades. But it led to exclusion. The darker and larger the spots were, the more the “pure” Martians looked down on others.

And now there had come a Terran whose skin was completely dark. An abomination for the “pure”! Such things were extremely rare among the Martians. Apparently that was reason enough for the mob to go crazy. Now you could even understand, what the crowd was yelling: “Mag’a! Mag’a! Mag’a!” It was a Martian word meaning “Eternal”. At least some of them supposedly were radical cultist. The rest were just followers.

“Please sir!” Jarmo Dorak turner around. He had been so focused on the crowd that he had not noticed how a man approached him. A Martian with a green pattern on the skin.
“Please, sir!” The man repeated. “I see you are also appalled by this. Please do something, we can not do anything without exposing ourself to the wrath of the crowd! She comes from your world, right?”
The Terran nodded. The young woman was about his age, about the end of her twenties. She had curly dark hair and wore nothing but a bikini. Apparently her clothes had been ripped off her.
She has just been pulled up again. You could hear her all over the pier gasping for air. The Martian operating the crane shouted: “Down again, yes?”
The crowd yelled. Maybe something like “Yes!” It was not understandable and it did not really matter. A button was pressed. The winch released the rope. The young Terran fell like a stone into the water. With a slpashing sound she disappeared between the waves.
“Get them up again!” Shouted the man who operated the winch. “Then she’s allowed to breathe again, and then let’s see how long she can stand underwater! They say Terrans are good athletes, let’s find out!”
Jarmo now knew he had to act quickly. But he too had no chance against the crowd. He had to do something different.
He winked at the Martian who was standing next to him. Then he ran from the pier down to the beach, under the construction.
He took off his clothes. He left his underpants on and hoped that the water would not be too cold. Above, the crowd screamed. He took his multifunction tool from a trouser pocket and went a few steps into the water. Not too cold, he noted. He went into the water and started to swim, always making sure to stay under the pier. The crowd up there should not see him.

Then it happened!

With a splash, the woman fell into the water and sank immediately. Jarmo did not understand that. Yes, her feet were tied up, but why did she sink in the water? Jarmo took a deep breath and went under.

The water was fortunately clear enough so that he could see. He saw the woman sinking to the bottom. Desperately, she moved her arms. Jarmo realized that the rope tied around her feet held a weight that pulled her down. And either she was not a good swimmer or just too exhausted, so she could not make it back to the surface.
Jarmo swam up to her. He realized that she was startled when he touched her feet. He took his tool and cut into the rope. It was tiring, but he managed to cut right through the rope.

He noticed that a large part of the rope lay loosely on the ground. The guy on the winch had given a lot of rope. He obviously wanted to make sure that the woman was really on the ground of the lake. He grabbed the woman and pulled her away under water until both were under the pier. Then they showed up. The woman gasped loudly. Jarmo hoped the waves were louder. He hoped the Martians on the pier wouldn’t hear them.
“Can you hold on here?” Asked Jarmo.
The woman was still breathing frantically, but she nodded her head.
“Why?” She wanted to know.
“I have to do something else.”
Then he dived again.

Photo by Jakob Owens on Unsplash
Photo by Jakob Owens on Unsplash

Underwater Jarmo grabbed the lose end of the rope and swam toward one of the pillars that held the platform of the pier. He put the rope around the pillar and knotted it. Then he swam back to the woman and surfaced.
“I’ll take you to the beach,” he said to the woman. Then he took her under her arms and dragged her to the beach in the cover of the pier.
Arrived in the shallow water, she simply remained face down. She was completely out of breath. Jarmo saw that her face was not in the water and let her breathe first. For now, they would be safe here. Then he saw how the rope tensed. The crowd wanted to see the woman pulled up again. But as the rope was now tied to the pillar, nothing moved. Then he heard the engine of the winch howl. The guy upstairs had given more energy. And then it happened: Since the rope did not come loose, the crane was torn from its mount. He fell forward and smashed into the pier. People screamed and ran off in panic while the front of the pier slowly collapsed.

“That’ll be a lesson to them,” Jarmo muttered.
“I do not think so.” The young woman had said that. She slowly raised her head and looked at Jarmo. “Thanks for getting me out of there.”
“Never mind,” Jarmo replied, holding out his hand. “I am Jarmo Dorak.”
The woman took his hand. “Aisha McClure,” she said. She straightened her and looked down at herself. “Where did these barbarians put my clothes and my glasses?”
Jarmo also got up. “I do not know,” he answered. “I came only when you were already on the rope.”
“I can not walk this way!” She said indignantly.
“Up there were some people who had nothing to do with the mob, I’ll ask them, maybe they saw something.”
He wanted to leave, but Aisha grabbed him by the shoulder. “Hey!” She said. “Although that’s a nice sight, but you can not walk the streets like that either!”
“Damn, I did not think about that anymore!” He walked over to the spot where he had taken off his clothes. At that moment, the Martian came running, with whom Jarmo had previously spoken. He had big towels with them.
“Fast, fast,” said he. “The evil ones are gone, but they’ll be back, and then they’ll want to know what happened.”
Aisha and Jarmo wrapped themselves in the towels.
“We bring you to our homes,” said the Martian. “You can warm up there.”
“Did you happen to find my clothes?” Aisha asked.
“Yes, we did, and your glasses are safe too, we saved everything.”
Jarmo smiled at Aisha and she smiled back.
“Hurry now!” Demanded the Martian.
“What an adventure,” thought Jarmo. “I only came here because of the library.”

New Worlds to Conquer!

Surface of Mars. Photo by NASA on Unsplash
Surface of Mars. Photo by NASA on Unsplash
Surface of Mars. Photo by NASA on Unsplash

Jarmo Dorak was a young man in his twenties. To be exact, he was 29, but he looked younger. And although he was rather young, he was the chosen one to open up this new section of STAR COMMAND. The new section was named STAR COMMAND CLUB. Let’s start with that. And at the beginning of this report, Jarmo Dorak is in a shuttle that was launched from the ENDEAVOR spacecraft to fly to the surface of Mars. Actually, the new department should just be founded. The CLUB, which should spread knowledge and understanding among the peoples of the solar system. Especially on earth. And the CLUB should look for new recruits.
The departments at STAR COMMAND headquarters had agreed. And also the branches on the different planets of the solar system. However, one has to say that the Martians were somewhat peculiar. Since the last conflict, they had returned to their religious roots and paid much attention to ceremonies. Ceremonies were important. And they insisted that a ceremony be held at the Pyra Oracle on Mars.
“Where exactly are we going?” Dorak asked the pilot.
“Does the ‘Valley Without Hope’ sound familiar?” Asked the pilot back.
“Not that I know.”
“Today it’s called the ‘Valley of Liberation’. From here the resistance that brought down the last Mars dictator was started. There are a few caves there.”
“The caves also have a special name, am I right?”
The pilot laughed. “Of course they have a special name,” he said. “They’re called the ‘Blue Sorceress’ Caverns’. The Blue Sorceress reportedly destroyed the Kagnaszax jewels there, robbing the Mars dictator of a valuable source of power.”
“I don’t understand it anymore,” admitted Jarmo. “‘Valley Without Hope’, ‘Valley Of Liberation’, Blue Sorceress And Now Jewels? Jewels Of Ka .. What?”
“Kagnaszax,” repeated the pilot. “There is a large library in the capital, Aresium, where you can read all of it. It’s actually quite interesting. But you should get ready now.”
“Get ready?”
“The spacesuit. We have to go out into the atmosphere of Mars. You should put it on, there’s just enough time.”

The sight was overwhelming. A large pyramid towered over the valley. There was something in front of this pyramid that reminded of the Gize Sphinx. Jarmo remembered reading something. Originally there was a large stone block above the entrance to the caves. After the fall of the Mars dictator, the rock was redesigned. The resemblance to the Sphinx was not accidental.
Dorak and the pilot had just got out of the shuttle when a Martian in space suit came up to them. Jarmo activated the communication unit of his suit.
“Greetings to you!” He heard the Martian’s voice over the radio. He spoke in Galstan. His voice was a little high, but he had no accent. “I assume that you are Jarmo Dorak from STAR COMMAND?”
“I am,” Jarmo confirmed. “And who are you?”
“A humble servant of the oracle of Pyra,” said the other. “Call me Hellgge.”

At that moment there was a flash of lightning in the sky. Jarmo looked up and was amazed. A shuttle had started in the distance. An old transport shuttle that was supposed to bring material into orbit, maybe a satellite. It was an outstanding spectacle.
“Yes,” said Hellgge the Martian. “Always fascinating. But we don’t have much time. If you would follow me now?”

Hellgge brought Jarmo down into the valley. Between the paws of the sphinx was the entrance to the caves. After the atmosphere of Mars became thinner and thinner, the entrance had been fitted with a pressure door. The Terran and the Martian entered an airlock. After the air pressure was equalized, both were able to take off their spacesuits and put them aside. Then the inner door of the airlock opened. Now they were finally able to enter the oracle’s cave.
“Everything visible has to go beyond itself and enter the area of ​​the invisible,” said Hellgge. It sounded like a mantra. Or a prayer.
“May the forces of forty-two be with you,” answered someone from the back of the cave.
Jarmo had trouble recognizing something. There had been a lot of light in the airlock, but the cave itself was lit only by a few lamps. Then he recognized another Martian wearing a wide robe. He seemed like a priest.
“Is that our guest?” Asked the priest.
“This is Jarmo Dorak from STAR COMMAND,” said Hellgge.
“Greetings to you, Jarmo Dorak from STAR COMMAND,” said the priest. “I am Tornagg, ordained high level priest and protector of the oracle of Pyra. The Council of Elders sends you to us, right?”
“Uh, yes,” said Jarmo carefully. “We want to create a new STAR COMMAND division and the Council of Elders wishes the oracle’s blessing.”
Tornagg laughed. “The blessing of the oracle?” He said then. “Know, stranger, that no one receives the blessing of the oracle! This ceremony is about something else.”
“Forgive my ignorance,” Dorak apologized. “But the records of this ceremony are somewhat incomplete.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Tornagg. “The ceremony is not for reading. It has to be experienced.”

The priest pointed to a niche in the wall. The niche was lined with what appeared to be glittering blue dust.
“At this place, the Blue Sorceress destroyed the jewels of Kagnaszax and liberated my people. But the magic of the jewels is still working. Stand in front of the niche.”
Jarmo did as ordered. “Now look!”
Tornagg threw a small crystal into the niche. In that moment…

Photo by Jeremy Thomas on Unsplash
Photo by Jeremy Thomas on Unsplash

…then it was over. Jarmo Dorak felt strange. It seemed that no time had passed while simultaneously he had the impression that a lot of time had passed. He checked his pocket computer. Half an hour. But he could not remember details. Just… something… feelings. And a message.

“You remember what the oracle said to you?”, Tornagg asked from behind.

Jarmo turned around. “Yes…”, he said slowly.

“Well, then you may go on with your life”, the priest replied. “May the Force of Somebody be with you on your task. Now STAR COMMAND CLUB will always be welcome here on Mars. Remember that!”

“Yes…”

Jarmo walked a few steps. The message from the oracle became clearer in his head.

FIND THE WIND HARP AND YOU WILL FIND THE CUBE OF KNOWLEDGE.

But why should I find this cube?, he thought, and suddenly the answer to his question appeared in his mind: BECAUSE YOU WILL NEED IT. GO FIND IT!

Jarmo was shocked. The oracle was still talking to him! Now he remembered pictures of strange places. Somethin like… a way… to the Wind Harp? Who knew?

He decided to make a report. After all, Katerina was waiting for his message. He decided to take care of the Wind Harp later…

FOREWORD


We may congratulate ourselves that this cruel war is nearing its end. It has cost a vast amount of treasure and blood. . . . It has indeed been a trying hour for the Republic; but I see in the near future a crisis approaching that unnerves me and causes me to tremble for the safety of my country. As a result of the war, corporations have been enthroned and an era of corruption in high places will follow, and the money power of the country will endeavor to prolong its reign by working upon the prejudices of the people until all wealth is aggregated in a few hands and the Republic is destroyed.
I feel at this moment more anxiety for the safety of my country than ever before, even in the midst of war. God grant that my suspicions may prove groundless.

U.S. President Abraham Lincoln, Nov. 21, 1864
(letter to Col. William F. Elkins)

A fanatic is one who can’t change his mind and won’t change the subject.

U.K. Prime Minister Winston Churchill

Be careful when you fight with monsters, so you don’t become a monster yourself. And if you look long enough into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you.

Friedrich Nietzsche, German Philosopher

There is a cult of ignorance in the United States, and there has always been. The strain of anti-intellectualism has been a constant thread winding its way through our political and cultural life, nurtured by the false notion that democracy means that ‘my ignorance is just as good as your knowledge’.

Isaac Asimov

There must be something worth trying for
Even some things worth dying for
And if one man can stand tall
There must be some hope for us all
Somewhere, somewhere in the spirit of man

“The War of the Worlds”, Musical Version by Jeff Wayne
(lyrics from the song “The Spirit of Man”)