This is Mission Control, Titan Space Station. Saturn 6.
Vessel in orbit, identify yourself.
This is Spaceship Berenice, requesting permission to land on Saturn 7.
Affirmed. Commence descent immediately.
Roger that. Descending.
It all started 20 years ago.
That is, two hours ago for me.
I was in an undefinable state.
Alone in the poets' age-old commitment to savour the taste, the melancholy.
My predecessors knew how to break sonic and heat barriers.
Centuries after the first astronauts jumped from planet to planet,
we now found ourselves within the walls of the largest cage in human history.
Beyond the light speed barrier, millions upon millions of unknown worlds palpitated feebly.
Inaccessible.
I was prisoner to a feeling as extinct as the lesser species,
melancholy.
I had seen everything.
Known everything.
I lived in a private ship, sumptuous like a museum.
Glory and fortune had smiled upon me,
seemingly by the extreme benevolence and prestige of the poet,
but in fact the last writer.
I was the last globetrotter
at a time when the world looked like anything but a globe.
The last explorer, at a time when there was nothing left to be explored.
I could have done it all.
I had the best robo-astrogator to drive my ship
and to reinforce my knowledge, the most beautiful supplementary brain hardware.
Robo-sociologist.
Robo-linguist.
Robo-physicist.
Not to mention, robo-semanticist, coordinator of meaning and syntax.
I'd even invented a machine to combat the oldest curse of the human species,
the misery of not being loved.
I'd even given it a name, Leporela.
A simple principle.
One provides the maximum amount of information about the object of love.
Indefatigable, infallible.
In response, Leporela gave indefatigable and infallible advice to seduce, conquer and possess.
This happiness had a bitter taste.
I was in my sullen reflection when, like a robotic postman coming home with the paper,
I set my robo-reader to high speed.
I allowed myself to relax, like my cat Marseille the First,
when something strange happened.
I slowed the robo-reader down.
A little inventor from a species I had thought was extinct
had reconfigured Einstein's formula, tidied it up.
They'd developed an engine capable of speeds a thousand times faster than the speed of light.
And yet, without breaking the bounds of time
my possibilities through space were still limited.
The verdict of the robo-astrogators and robo-geographer
was that even at this inhuman speed
half of the journey into unknown territory would take me 20 years.
No question at my age.
Defeated, I fell back on my couch with my dreams in shreds
and set my robo-reader back to high speed.
But the tangents of fate are unpredictable.
Chance had put forward a medical review on my robo-reader.
I looked closer.
Before me was a device that could hold any living organism
for any duration of time in suspended life.
20 years could now pass as if it were only 20 minutes.
Unforeseeable coincidence had juxtaposed two completely foreign phenomena.
The superluminal engine combined with suspended life
was once and for all my gateway to the stars.
Only one reaction was possible, buying it.
Thus, I bought it.
It would be delivered to my home.
My heart was singing.
I installed the engine that would propel me towards the most distant shores
of which no man had ever dreamed.
In the engine room I installed a hull made of crystal,
the likes of which brought Osiris to new worlds in the most mysterious of journeys.
There is no map of the unknown.
I didn't know where I was going
and I would never know where I had been.
The motors could return me here provided I only stayed in the unknown for a few hours,
maybe a few days.
I chose, for no particular reason, a small point on the tail of Berenice's comet.
A miniscule light, which was a universe in itself
with its billions of galaxies between its billions of suns.
I sat on the crystal hull and my dear Marseille fell asleep against me
in what would be the longest sleep in the history of cats.
The journey was, for me, a dreamless sleep.
Only the soulless eyes of my faithful robots
would witness what human eyes could never see.
Beyond the threshold of the speed of light, appearances change.
This world has its own units of measurement, which remain unknown to me.
Ten years passed as if it were 10 minutes.
Stable movement resumed.
The journey into the unknown was complete.
According to my astrogator, I was approaching the sun of a new galaxy
in this new universe which was not dissimilar to my own.
Planets sailed around the sun, one of which resembled our Earth.
Fascinating. I had entered the void
only to be confronted with the paradoxical image of ourselves.
The planet was inhabited.
My robots indicated signs of civilisation and the presence of a human species.
Before me were cities, houses and a space station.
I decided to descend and land my ship.
I was at some sort of terminal.
I'd transcended the bounds of space and time.
Fragile, ephemeral, this could only be done once.
My heart pounded.
I was in a labyrinth whose logic and geometry escaped me.
I thought I would never get out until I understood
that the very desire to leave was precisely the means by which to do it.
One must understand, then everything will work out.
Having understood this door, I continued through long corridors,
passing men and women who were polite, calm and serene.
They pretended not to see me to dissuade me about their curiosity. 115 00:09:50,150 --> 00:09:53,500 Led by the desire to succeed, I finally arrived in a vast room
where under the coat of arms of this planet, a giant wind rose, a man awaited me.
I could not tell if he were a prince, a wise man or a tyrant.
I understood that I needed to take a seat.
And thus, a chair rose from the floor.
I began to relay the purpose of my visit and my origin
but I began to feel uneasy,
as if I were deviating from a social ritual as rigid as the wind rose.
I began to second-guess each of my gestures, every word that left my mouth.
The prince did not reply in words, only gestures.
I was gripped by anxiety until I understood the exquisite courtesy of his attitude.
These marvellous flowers were here to guide me.
If I erred, they contracted, blushed, their colours became aggressive.
When I was back on track, they flowered again.
With this discrete guide, I could speak to him
without breaking social conventions unknown to me.
The meeting ended.
The prince invited me to a reception of sorts
where I was to meet the principal scholars, artists and administrators of the planet.
I saw nothing but calm and sweetness around me.
Dignity, kindness, balance and understanding were the keys to this world without violence,
where understanding was of the utmost importance.
They liked me.
I admired them, when…
I thought, naively, that I was past the age of love at first sight.
I was paralysed.
Incapable of initiative.
Barbara threw me deep into an abyss of admiration.
I didn't know what to do,
I barely heard her when she asked, curious about my planet,
to visit my ship.
Shy for once, I meticulously went through every detail.
I expected everything from this visit.
Leporela obviously did as well.
On a whim, I unplugged her.
I wanted my eventual success to be credited to me alone.
So she came.
I hurried around her, in vain.
It was planet Earth that interested her, not me.
Everything excited her.
She wanted to know everything a priori and a posteriori.
Death, geology, fauna, flora, literature, music.
My robots were mad with joy. They chattered like magpies eager to stand out. Idiots.
It was an excruciatingly cultural visit.
I didn't know what to do.
Disheartened, I watched her leave with Berenice, Henri Brulard
and the Brandenburg Concertos under her arm.
Could she sense my disappointment?
I still don't know, but from the door she suggested I visit her.
I only vaguely understood that she wanted me to visit
but my heart began beating like never before in my life.
At the front of her house I saw no door.
A moment was sufficient to understand
that the visitor must simply formulate their desire to have the door open.
A corridor opened to five bare and empty rooms.
I was confused.
It occurred to me that the visitor, in good faith, must abandon their inhibitions.
The first room was undoubtedly the antechamber.
I made the appropriate gesture, and she appeared.
Armchairs rose from the ground.
We spoke.
The second room must have been the dining area.
From the ground came chairs and a splendid table.
The third was a music room, and I no longer had any difficulty
understanding the conventional behaviour.
Fourth was the boudoir, and it was exquisite,
with exquisite steps that led to the fifth room.
Undoubtedly, the bedroom.
My guess was correct.
The bed emerged.
This shrewd progression seemed, at least to me, an indication
or the proof of charming courtship.
A delicate and civilised ceremony.
We exchanged our first kiss.
Now I was sure of it.
She loved me, as I loved her.
The zeal, the moment, everything was decided, when...
Six shadows appeared. Three men and three women had joined us.
Six smiling faces, likable, kind and in some way pure.
I initially thought this must be her family,
I feigned politeness, masking my fury at their interruption as much as I could.
I feared I'd broken some taboo.
I felt that they were expecting something from me
but I didn't know what.
The remainder of our evening passed in mundane conversation.
Dawn came, illuminating a landscape of scattered calm.
The honourable host must have understood that it was time to retire.
As she left, Barbara assured me she would come and see me,
she was aware of the anguish that had gripped my heart.
She knew that I could only stay two more days, at most.
She took me to some majestic and romantic ruins,
as if she wanted to show me the missing piece of a complex puzzle.
The ruins spoke to my soul.
I understood that she loved me.
We returned to her house.
Knowing the ritual this time, I followed her more closely
in the steps that would lead to the sanctuary.
I was kissing her madly, when…
Again these six shadows, the same as the day before.
This disturbed me profoundly.
They seemed less amicable, a certain coldness pervaded their polite mannerisms.
Barbara rejected my discreet attempts to isolate ourselves.
I understood less and less.
The day dawned, inviting the honourable guests to depart.
Barbara: Our worlds are so different. Don't be sad, I'll come back.
She came back, and my heart soared.
I followed her, and I initially thought there was some sort of theatre before me.
I was nearly right. It was a private concert hall.
A sort of church or... I don't know. With an organ type thing.
Her music looked for the key to my heart without knowing
that she had already found it, long ago.
I thought I'd understood.
Barbara: Well, you know everything now.
The hours were counting down. Stay here forever or leave the following day.
These were my only two options.
We jeered at ritual and threw ourselves directly into the fifth room.
Once again, I kissed her like a madman, when…
The six shadows re-appeared, sombre and sad.
Their distress seemed as alive as mine.
They expected something from me but I didn't know what to give.
I couldn't do anything, neither could Barbara.
I understood it was irrevocably over.
If I wanted to return to Earth I had to go.
I could never come back, I didn't even know where I was.
Barbara: On the first day you told me the story of Titus
and the Queen Berenice.
They loved each other. They left each other.
Our worlds are too different.
I love you, you love me and you're leaving me.
Never forget me, as I will never forget you.
Go now, and don't turn back.
Thus, I left.
It is not in my nature to be tragic
but an undignified despair tore at my heart.
I slide into my crystal hull as if it were a tomb.
I left.
Naturally, I didn't see anything of the voyage.
10 years passed as if it were 10 minutes.
We arrived in our familiar universe
but I didn't want to return to Earth just yet.
I was approaching Hyperion, a small Saturn satellite.
And thus, 20 years ago. For me it was but a weekend,
the longest in world history.
I returned to work, my sad and mourning robots classified their countless documents.
What happened?
Who could tell me?
Leporela maybe?
I neither accepted nor understood her initial response.
I asked again.
I pressed her with more questions; I couldn't resolve what was obvious.
Grief-striken, I measured the extent of my faults.
The vanity of man and his presumed intelligence, always and everywhere
believing themselves to be the centre of the world.
Nothing compels other creatures to live in our likeness.
I was like an old cartoonist from centuries past
bringing bears and cats and dinosaurs to life like men.
Nothing compelled this planet, the men and the women of this planet, to live in our image.
Everything on that planet was modelled after the eight points of the wind rose.
Eight ways to greet.
Eight ways to answer.
Eight ways to live.
And also, eight sexes.
In this way, when Barbara summoned her six shadows that intrigued me,
who bothered me so,
it was to tell me that she agreed.
Not to distance herself from me.
To perfect our union, not to make it impossible.
I had stupidly thought of life forms in binary terms
whereas this is uncertain and indeterminate for all of us.
Other natures, other morals, other moralities, each with their own respective ways of being.
My obstinacy in not understanding carried as much dismay
as my inability to see her again.
She was right, Berenice, our worlds pulled us too far apart.
I had taken them for six judges,
but it was just six accomplices.
The necessary group of catalysts had a harmony of which I was ignorant.
For this, I had been well and truly punished.
By blindness, by vanity, I had lost Barbara.
Her image stays with me.
Bitter and sterile regret seizes my soul.
And if I am to live, if I am to survive, I need to leave.
Even after the death of Hamlet, life continues and Fortinbras sounds the trumpets.
Every day, every minute, a thousand sublime creatures travel the world.
I will be sad, they will be touched.
I changed and I loved them for themselves, as they were,
gracious and compassionate.
I can still win some battles, I have an unstoppable weapon:
at the heart of the fire of 1000 suns.
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