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Ebook has 87 lines and 8372 words, and 2 pages

Editor: Axel Bergholm

Translator: Aatto S.

HISTORIALLINEN LUKUKIRJA

Vanha ja keski-aika

Kirj.

OTTO SJ?GREN

Suomentanut Aatto S.

Kuvilla kaunistettu.

Werner S?derstr?m, Porvoo, 1888.

SIS?LLYS:

Esipuhe. Johdatus.

VANHA AIKA.

Foinikialaiset

Persian valtakunta. Persialaisten alkuper? ja uskonto Kyr?n tarina Dareios Hystaspis. Xerxes

KESKIAIKA.

Esipuhe.

Elokuussa 1888.

Axel Bergholm.

JOHDATUS.

Useimpien kansain sadut ja uskonnolliset tarut mainitsevat Keski-Aasiaa sen ihmiskunnan yhteiseksi kodiksi, jonka kehityksest? historia puhuu. Kuitenkin on l?ydetty ihmisten olinmerkkej? monestakin eri maanpaikasta, varsinkin Europasta, jo niin vanhoilta ajoilta, ett? silloin viel? eliv?t ne muinaismaailman el?inlajit, jotka sitte ovat sukupuuttoon kuolleet ennen historian alkua.

VANHA AIKA.

IT?MAISET KANSAT.

It?maiden hedelm?llisen luonnon helmassa alkoi oikeastaan inhimillisen sivistyksen kehityshistoria. Siell? elettiin meid?n sukukuntamme lapsuutta; mielikuvitus, jolla ei viel? ollut ymm?rryst? ohjaajana, antoi muodon ja suunnan koko sielunel?m?n toiminnalle. Itsen?isyyden puutteessa kuin lapset, vaipuivat ihmiset ehdottomasti ulkonaisten voimain itsevaltiuden alle; pappisvalta ja rajaton kuninkuus olivat siis it?maisen yhteiskunta-rakennuksen molemmat p??pylv??t. Yleisesti vallitsevasta monivaimoisuudesta sai perhe-el?m? omituisen muodon. Taiteen tuotteet, ollen hillitt?m?n mielikuvituksen lapsia, tulivat haaveellisuuden ja eriskummallisuuden ilmi?iksi; usein olivat ne hallitsijan k?skyst? tehty? orjanty?t?, joka muodottomalla suuruudellaan todisti tottelevain tahtojen paljoutta ja ainejoukkonsa j?ykkyydell? itsen?isen el?m?n puutetta. Tutkimus, ty?skennellen mielikuvitus-voiman palveluksessa, k??ntyi mielell??n ihmeellisyyden ja salaper?isyyden alalle.

Egyptil?iset.

Niilin kostuttamana on Egypti siit? joesta saanut omituisen luonteensa. Niili tulee Sis?-Afrikan j?rvist?, saa Abessinian vuoristoista monta sivujokea ja kokoutuu suureksi leve?ksi kymiksi Nubian pengermaassa, jossa se sy?ksyy alas monesta ?kkijyrk?st? koskesta. Tyynen? ja rauhallisena juoksee se sitte etel?st? pohjoista kohti l?pi Egyptin, joka on kummallakin puolella ik??nkuin t?m?n mahtavan kymin vehre?n? kehyksen?; l?hell? suutansa jakautuu joki monith the past. Those green and grassy meadows in the midst of our metallic forests. The last places on Earth where you can be buried out in the open, with flowers over your head and birds singing above. You want to be buried in one of the Parks, don't you Joseph?" When the man nodded briefly, Steen continued. "Which Park, Joseph?"

"Manhattan...."

Steen drew himself up with a sudden, silent movement. The fish had taken a good look at the bait. Now to remove it from sight for a while. Steen closed his eyes briefly, then raised a hand as if to brush away a sudden tear. "I'm sorry, Joe. Very sorry indeed. I was afraid that was what you wanted, and yet, there was always...." He blinked his eyes. "Manhattan Park is impossible, Joe. Confucius Park in Hong Kong, perhaps. I think there are still same plots available in Frogner Park in Oslo. I'm certain that we could get you into Amundsen Park at the South Pole. But Manhattan.... No, Joe. That's one dream I'm afraid you'll just have to give up."

"Why?" Joseph Krieg asked quietly but determinedly.

"Have you ever seen it, Joe? I thought not. It's perhaps the most beautiful part of this most beautiful planet in the Galaxy. Would you like to see Manhattan?"

Steen did not even wait for a reply. "I think it could be managed, as a special favor. Permission to enter Manhattan Park is difficult to get, you know, but I think this once...." Steen turned to Braun. "Put a call through to the President's office...."

Atop grassy knolls, supple willows trailed languid branches to the ground. Silver-throated birds sang secret melodies while bees hummed a scarcely audible background. Narrow graveled paths wound through this gentle landscape, now hugging the edge of a tinkling stream, now plunging through carpets of gorgeous flowers. The three men sat silent on a rough stone bench observing the pastoral scene.

Finally Consolator Steen spoke softly. "I understand how you feel, Joe. The first time any of us sees it, we are afflicted with silence. Its beauty is almost painful, the memories it invokes almost beyond bearing. Lincoln is buried there, just beyond that hillock; Landowski not far from him. Shakespeare's grave is there to the right, and close by is the body of Sharon, the poet of the Galaxy. Einstein's final resting place is a mile or so away, and near to it you'll find Chi Wan, who gave us Stardrive. Humanity's Valhalla, Joe."

Joseph Krieg had not cried openly since childhood, and yet now there were tears in his eyes. "This has always been my dream...."

Consolator Steen placed a friendly arm around the man's shoulders. "Yes, now you have seen it. Your dream has come true." He paused for just a moment, then said, "And now, Joe, perhaps we had better go."

Joseph Krieg turned towards the man with an abrupt motion. "Go? Why should we go? We've been here scarcely ten minutes."

"Because the longer you stay, the harder it will be for you to leave, Joe. And the less attractive the other parks will seem to you. So, I'd like for us to leave at once." His voice became businesslike. "First, I'd like to show you Hong Kong, and then...."

"I don't want to see Hong Kong, or any place else. This is where I want to be buried, Steen. Whatever the price is, I'll pay."

Consolator Steen sighed deeply. "I don't think you understand, Joe. It isn't a matter of price. Manhattan is simply not available to you, for the reason that it is not for sale. I know that you have heard otherwise; I am sure that rumors have reached your ears that burial in Manhattan could be effected for a mere trillion credits. But these fantastic tales are incorrect--for two reasons.

"The first reason, Joe, is a financial one. To the average man, a mere million credits is such a gigantic, unobtainable sum that he is sure anything in the Galaxy could be obtained for a trillion. This is not so, as you and I both know. Why, a million credits will scarcely get you a burial in a two-inch-square cube in the bottom floor of one of our huge buildings. Remember? I called those huge bargain basements 'pauper's fields.' And that they are--available to those poor people throughout the Universe who have only a few millions to their names. Incredible, isn't it?

Consolator Steen knew the answer to this question exactly--he also knew that Joseph Krieg was one of these men. Krieg could have afforded a quadrillion credits, but it would have exhausted his fortune. Steen waited until he was sure that the other man was deep in mental turmoil and then he continued, his voice now softer, less commercial sounding. "And having given you 'the prices,' so to speak, of the lesser treasures, I will now surprise you by saying that the entry ticket to Manhattan Park is free."

Joseph Krieg looked at the man intently, a curious fire of hope in his eyes. "Free?"

Steen nodded. "And because it is free, it is unobtainable. It is not generally known, Joe, but the only way one can be buried in Manhattan Park is by permission of the Galactic Congress. Only certified heroes are so honored, and they are few and far between. Remember the great bacteriologist Manuel de Artega? It took the Galactic Congress more than fifty years of debate after he died to decide to let him in--but after all, the only claim to fame he had was that he saved a few trillion lives from the Green Plague. He was buried here some thirteen years ago. There has been no one since, and no one in sight."

Steen patted the man on the shoulder. "Now, come along, Joe. I want you to take a look at Amundsen Park before you make up your mind. It's not at all cold at the Pole these days--lovely flowers, trees...."

"No!" Joseph Krieg cried, standing up. Steen and Braun both rose too. "There must be a way!"

"Now, now, Joe. You mustn't get upset about this. The other Parks are just as fine, I assure you," Steen murmured in consolation.

Krieg shook his head. "You can't tell me that sometime or other someone didn't buy his way into Manhattan. It stands to reason...."

"Now, Joe. You're taking this much too hard...."

"I tell you, I know people. And that's all the Galactic Congress is made up of--people. Tell me the truth, Steen. Has anyone ever bribed his way into this Park?"

"I wish you wouldn't ask me questions like that, Joe. When I say that it's impossible, I mean just that. You'll just excite yourself needlessly by listening to foolish rumors...."

"Who was it?" Krieg asked excitedly.

"Who was the richest man who ever lived, Joe?"

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