 Out of the past, thrown up to a satellite and back again for all of us to see. The Medical Council flings wide the gates of St. Peter's in Rome. A cabinet minister is speaking. The eyes of the world are on him. And our witnesses, our hero, meets his destiny. A hundred years ago, the kings and princes signed their agreement in Paris on the question of the telegraph. A hundred years later, there's a focal point of world communications, the building of the International Telecommunications Union in Geneva. In this strange acoustic room, through this strangely human shape, is measured the international standard of the human voice. And then, the tablets of the law, the list of the radio frequencies, allocated to each country throughout the world. It's they that command, not man. Just as in olden times, now a twentieth century knight is accoutered in his twentieth century armor before he enters the lists. Out in space, we're trying to perfect communication with one another, even maybe to grope towards that which is still beyond the reach of man. Yuri Gagarin, the first cosmonaut, is lifted to his rocket. On the day the first Sputnik was launched, the German of the Academy of Sciences of the Soviet Union declared, Earth is the cradle of humanity, but man is not necessarily meant to stay there for the rest of his life. As he leaves the cradle, the first tentative flickering images, man and a woman hold the first conversation in outer space. After comrade Gagarin, citizen John Glenn. We watch another twentieth century knight being prepared for the lists. How long, I wonder, does it take before the we in this space race can come to mean all those of us born here on Earth? As if he were entering a tomb. Like the dead, he is in fact leaving our world. He is setting his course for infinity. Years of the world listen. These strange instruments anxiously follow him, answer his questions and keep him in contact. And we the Earth bound down below, follow the lonely traveler, our representative. They have spun a girdle round the globe to follow him up in space. Television has already conquered the moon. These pictures were taken exactly at the moment that the cameras crashed on the lunar surface. A human being emerges into space. Cosmovision is born. We here on Earth for the first time have watched a man leave his space vehicle. Fantasy of science fiction has become reality. On the day when these garbled images crossed the Atlantic with the help of a satellite and appeared on our screens, on that day world vision was born. All over the world, these strange alert constructions follow the course of satellites. Direct the ships in space and listen to the sounds of the universe. It is in fact the radio telescope far more than the rocket which establishes contact with the stars we may never reach. Heavens is surely that man shall have a fuller and a richer life down here on Earth. In my father's house are many mansions, but on Earth there is only one peace.