Perry Rhodan, Sammelband 9

I’ll admit, I approached this behemoth with trepidation. Thirty-three hours is a commitment, and *Perry Rhodan*’s reputation for complexity isn’t exaggerated. But within an hour, I was hooked—not just by the story, but by the *narration*. The ensemble cast is a masterstroke: Gregor Höppner’s dry wit as the cynical strategist contrasts perfectly with Simon Roden’s breathless urgency during battle sequences. The production team deserves credit for the restraint in sound design; this isn’t a radio drama, but the occasional ambient hum or distorted transmission sells the setting without gimmickry. The story itself is a high-wire act. Anton juggles a half-dozen plotlines—diplomatic intrigue, military desperation, a slow-burn mystery about an ancient artifact—without dropping a thread. The pacing, though, is where opinions may divide. The first act is *deliberate*, almost glacial, as it lays groundwork for the explosion of the final third. I found the patience rewarding, but listeners expecting nonstop action might chafe. My only real critique? Some alien dialects (particularly the Topsidans) veer into caricature under Jacobs’ performance, a rare misstep in an otherwise stellar cast. Still, when the climax hits—a sequence involving a doomed fleet and a last-ditch temporal gambit—I was gripping my headphones. This is sci-fi that *demands* attention, and repays it tenfold.