" Perry Rhodan 0050 - (42) Time's Lonely One" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Rhodan)

The demand grew louder. I listened to the sound of little bells ringing in my brain. I heard myself answer
although I didnтАЩt speak.

OlafтАФit was obviously I whose name was being called repeatedly and with increasing intensity. The pain
in my head grew worse. Billy Plichter was merciless with his insistence. I certainly deserved a rest; IтАЩd
earned it!

Somebody began to speak. It was a little while before I understood the wordsтАФand then that they
issued from my own mouth! I wanted to laugh but the pain intensified again.

A fizzing noise next to me. A stinging pain in my thigh but passing quickly, to be replaced by a pleasant
warm feeling rippling through my body.

But what inconsiderate physician would give me such an intimate injection in the presence of other
persons? I felt embarrassed because тАШWillyтАЩ Fergusen was in the room. How could the doctor give me a
bare thigh shot while she was looking on?

Fiery veils surged before my eyes. The throbbing pain inside my skull became too much to bear.

When I could see clearly again, I realized тАШWillyтАЩ Fergusen was no longer in the room. Job howled with
laughter againтАФbut he was not really there any more.

Close before my eyes the big picture screen radiated brightly. I watched the coloured images with
astonishment. My colleagues discussed matters with which I was familiar, I was in their midstтАФand yet I
lay there.

The tableau began to flicker away, to be replaced by a modern clock with a year scale. A voice
announced solemnly: "The time is up, Master!"

When was the last time anyone had called me Master? I turned my aching head. "I beg your pardon!" I
stammered awkwardly with a thick tongue that had the feeling I had not used it for ages.

"The time is up, Master!" the same voice reiterated. This time the voice reaching my ears sounded less
solemn and had a more metallic ring.

RicoтАЩs plastic face was wrinkled in an amiable smile. I blinked my eyes as I looked up at him. "Hello!" I
said weakly. "Is that you, Rico?"

"Yes, Master! This is Rico. TimeтАЩs up. I had orders to wake you up after exactly 69 years, Master."

I was annoyed by this servile expression. Such high-grade robots shouldnтАЩt be directed to use titles on
every occasion that smacked of submission. But what did he mean when he referred to 69 years?

The thought made me shudder. It was always the same. The recognition hit me with a painful shock.

I sat up and Rico immediately supported me. I felt the hard steel under the plastic skin of his hand. My
joints seemed to have become rusty. I looked again at the videoscreen. Only 69 years! I had set it for
70. What happened?