Free Mission by Patrick Tilley

the world was a very different place during the Second Age.’
    â€˜When was that?’ I said.
    â€˜Oh, a long, long time ago.’
    â€˜How long?’
    â€˜Way back. Thousands of millions of years,’ he said, waving the question away. ‘The Aeons were already at work here before the dawn of geological time. More pointless information. Your mind cannot draw any meaning from such a vast span of time.’
    â€˜It’s still nice to know these things,’ I riposted. ‘I didn’t realise we went back that far.’
    â€˜You don’t,’ he said. ‘But you can forget all that stuff Darwin is supposed to have proved. You did not evolve from walking apes. Your ancestors began life on another plane of existence. Another wavelength which, during the Age of Darkness, was absorbed into the waveband of external reality. They were like dream images which slowly acquired a solid, tangible shape from which, finally, they could not escape. In the Second Age, before this happened, the landscape was much more nebulous. There weren’t the pressures there are now. This crushing force of gravity dragging everything down. If it were possible for you to see it through your twentieth-century eyes, or even through those of the people I’ve just left, you would think you were on another planet. Jupiter perhaps. In any case, it would be unrecognisable as the present Earth. And if you were to catch sight of Proto-Man as he was forged in the fire-clouds of the world’s dawning, you would not recognise him either.’
    â€˜In that case, I won’t ask you for a description,’ I said. ‘Let’s getback to the colonists. You said that you came here to make contact. How long had you been out of touch?’
    â€˜We lost contact with this galaxy during the Second War of Secession.’ He paused. ‘This is getting rather involved.’
    â€˜Just give me the broad outline,’ I said. ‘If there’s time, I’ll bone up on the fine print later.’
    â€˜Okay,’ he said. ‘But remember what I told you about George Lucas scenarios. I have to use your language but you must try to make your mind reach beyond the words.’
    â€˜I’m trying,’ I said. ‘But don’t expect miracles. I’m new at this game. Uhh, by the way,’ I added hurriedly, ‘no offence intended.’
    â€˜That’s all right’ he said. ‘Listen, Leo, before we go any further. You don’t have to treat me like the Dean of Yale, or the head of your Law School. You’re looking at one of the founder-members of the school of plain-speaking. So just say whatever’s on your mind. If I’d wanted the red carpet treatment, I’d have asked for the address of the nearest college of Jesuits.’
    â€˜You got it,’ I replied. ‘On with the pre-history lesson.’
    He took a deep breath. Very simply, the Empire to which I belong was split by a rebellion which had its roots in the creation of the World Below. The forces supporting the Empire called themselves Loyalists, and the rebels were called the Secessionists. In Earth mythology, they are also known as the Black Legions, Forces of Darkness, the Satanic Hordes, the list is endless.’
    â€˜Don’t tell me,’ I said. ‘They are the bad guys.’
    He shrugged. ‘That depends on your point of view. They’ve evolved a very persuasive argument which casts us as the villains of the piece and them as the protectors of the universe which, according to this novel thesis, we are out to destroy. A neat twist.’ He smiled. ‘Anyway, to cut a long story short, we won the First War of Secession. The rebels were banished to the Netherworld.’
    â€˜The universe of anti-matter …’
    â€˜Yes,’ he said. ‘It was a prison. That was the sole purpose behind its creation. We couldn’t go in there, and they couldn’t get out. Or