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Let us take a leap into the fantastic. A table—including the one I am sitting at now—consists of a countless number of juxtaposed atoms. If it were possible to split the table up into its atomic components, send it out in energy waves and reconstruct it in its original form at a given place, the transport of matter would be solved. Sheer fantasy? I admit that it is today, but in the future? Perhaps the memory of the men of antiquity was still haunted by the remembrance of materialisations that had been seen in very remote times. Today steel is dipped in liquid nitrogen to harden it. To us a natural process that was discovered in modern times. But probably owing to a primitive memory this hardening process was already a reality in antiquity. At all events, it was practised with very crude methods. For case-hardening, the men of old plunged red-hot swords into the bodies of live prisoners! Yet how did they know that the human body is pumped full of organic nitrogen? How did they know the chemical effect? How, I ask, did our ancestors get their advanced technology and their modern medicinal knowledge if not from unknown intelligences? How do intelligent men and women come to believe that some audacious, way-out idea is empirically arrivable at step by step, that what is originally fantasy or vision will one day become reality? ee) SMD eee DDD a aperee ie IN This mysterious drawing from Tell Issaghen II. Sahara is thought by some to show a mummy being transported. The two top figures seem to be floating in space. I am firmly convinced that scientists are inspired by the driving desire to know as many things, to turn into reality at least as many memories, as were introduced in the memory of mankind by unknown intelligences in the remote past. For there must be a plausible reason why the cosmos has been the great goal of research throughout human history. Simply by experience? Surely all stages of technical development, every tiny advance and all the visionary ideas were only