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The Time Annihilator by Edgar A, Manley and Walter Thode

Page 2

by Monte Herridge


  unwritten? Now I know that the future was a

  room of illusions, cutting a path of flame into

  book, a tremendous volume, written indelibly

  the stygian darkness.

  from the Morning of Creation.

  “The room holds the future,” I said in

  “He was in there—I could hear his

  an awed whisper.

  Wonder Stories

  6

  Clay, growling angrily, shoved me enthralled in a nightmare from which I would aside and stumbled into the time chamber. I

  presently awake, trembling with weariness.

  walked into the box at his heels, panting in

  “Here are a bunch of dials,” remarked

  agitation. I was in a blue funk of fear, which

  Clay, rousing me from my reverie. “I’m

  my face undoubtedly revealed. Hesitatingly I

  getting the creeps in this place, Lane.”

  made my way to the walls and placed my

  I studied the dials in the tiny container

  hands on the glass, seeking vainly for some

  as I stared over his broad shoulders. Minute

  hidden recess into which Stenson could have

  markings, numerals that stood for almost

  vanished.

  endless years, were engraved on the dial. The

  Blurred faces peered mockingly at indicator pointed to the year 1945. I studied me—or so I fancied. They were long faces,

  the dial and perceived that a scratch had been

  with narrowed eyes and distorted bodies—but

  made at 2250, as if intentionally by some

  human in their general appearance. And yet

  sharp instrument. I pointed out the scratch to

  there was something hellishly inhuman about

  Clay.

  them that baffled me. The glass gave way

  The unknown spread before us,

  beneath my hands as if I were pressing into

  enticing in its very terror; the future beckoned

  soft rubber. The sound of far-off voices us with the bony fingers of Death. I slammed whispered in my ears.

  the door as Clay pressed on the indicator. We

  “Bert—this glass. It doesn’t seem to

  were off into time and space.

  have any end!”

  A faint humming sound, strangely like

  “No, I noticed that, Lane. Damned if it

  that of a swarm of honey bees, filled the time

  doesn’t seem bewitched.”

  chamber and we felt ourselves hurled into

  I walked a step closer until my body

  space with inconceivable violence. A

  pressed against the mirrors. Clay shouted succession of scenes, fleeting as those of warningly. “Don’t do that, Lane. You’ll go

  dreams, and myriad voices projected

  right through.”

  themselves into our consciousness. I laid my

  “What kind of glass is this made of?” I

  hand on Clay’s arm, seeking the reassurance

  demanded.

  of his very presence.

  “You got me, Lane. This is the oddest

  The mirror walls of the time vehicle

  place I’ve ever been in since I was born.”

  seemed to melt away as did the glass floor.

  “There is only one thing left for us to

  Only the indicator, with its numerals spelling

  do. We must start after poor Stenson. I hope it

  away the cycle of years, possessed reality for

  isn’t too late to save him.”

  us. We moved at tremendous speed into the

  “I’m afraid he’s dead now.”

  future; and yet the sense of time seemed

  We glanced about the room of glass,

  extremely vague. Time seemed to vanish into

  with its hint of distances beyond human nothingness, leaving only the mad sensation of concept. The chamber could not have been

  rushing, rushing breathlessly into we knew not

  more than five feet square; and yet the illusion

  what.

  of space, as illimitable as the universe of a

  We stared into eternity with

  billion suns, encompassed us in everlasting

  bewilderment as we moved through many

  arms. I seemed suspended in space, living

  lands and eras. We mingled for fragments of

  through the births and lives and deaths of all

  time in the midst of multitudes abiding in

  human beings. There was a cosmic depth to

  towering cities; again we were out in the ether

  the time machine that seemed to touch every

  of space—at least so it seemed. The time

  conceivable dimension. I wondered if I were

  journey seemingly described a great arc, a

  The Time Annihilator

  7

  mysterious parabolic curve that to my mind

  floated overhead and music floated on the

  has remained the very essence of the linking

  breeze.

  of past, present and future into a perfect unity.

  Clay and I found ourselves floating a

  trifle above the ground after a brief period of

  TIME was condensed into a microcosm in the

  walking through the multitudes. Either the

  chamber. I hesitate now to call the strange

  indicator had halted, leaving us at rest in a city

  vehicle by such a name. Surely it could not be

  that must have been the home of many

  described in all its attributes by such a word.

  millions, or time had for a period stretched to

  As we wandered through streets of the cities

  gigantic dimensions for us. The buildings

  yet to come we were part of the passing towered two thousand feet high.

  throngs. And yet while we saw them, they

  Again I stared at the indicator and

  were utterly oblivious of our presence. The

  found it climbing. We were hurried through

  walls of the time machine were penetrated by

  time, the scene fading from our eyes. The

  these human beings, changeless in type from

  journey reminded me of a motion picture

  those living today but strangely garbed in projected on a screen at such tremendous flowing robes. Their passing bodies touched

  speed that everything turned into a blue blur.

  those of Clay and me, but were less dense than

  “How in the dickens can I stop this

  the faintest vapor. All was unreal but Clay and

  machine?” asked Clay testily.

  me. Clay stared at the indicator that was

  The problem was a baffling one. A

  carrying us resistlessly into the future.

  series of little ivory handles, the uses of which

  “Don’t let that dial out of your sight,”

  were utterly unknown to us, hung on the

  he said. “If you do, you’re going to be indicator box. There was more than a faint stranded hundreds of years beyond your time.”

  possibility that if we touched the wrong

  “Or

  thousands.”

  handle we faced annihilation. We passed the

  “That’s what happened I believe to

  year 2250—marked by the momentous

  Stenson.”

  scratch—with swirling rapidity. I scratched

  I pointed to the scratch on the indicator

  my head in bewilderment.

  board at the year 2250. “I wonder if that was

  “She’s rising away up in the twenty-

  made by Stenson? Perhaps it was put there in

  hundreds now, Clay,” I remarke
d. “We better

  the hope we would see it and trace him.”

  put a halt to this trip.”

  “But how did the time machine return?

  Utter terror clutched my heart as I

  It’s funny that it could do it of its own stared at the rising indicator. The accord.”

  consequences of our time journey were

  “Yes, but this is the strangest machine

  impressed with appalling force on my brain.

  I believe the world has ever seen. Neither you

  Clay was ashen-faced. His hands moved with

  nor I, Clay, know anything about it.”

  uncertainty along the row of handles.

  The mounting time dial pointed to the

  “I’m going to see what happens,” said

  year 2132. We found ourselves in a great

  Clay touching one of the handles.

  boulevard with the indicator floating before

  He pressed down on the knob and the

  our eyes. Tropical trees rose before the white

  time machine fluttered as if swept by a gale.

  buildings and the holiday crowds—for such

  We were shaken violently against the invisible

  they seemed—passed laughingly about us. walls. The indicator came to a sharp halt, They were attired in robes of the gayest hues.

  pointing to the number 2418. A feeling of

  I envied them their carefree life. Their cheeks

  incredulity swept me. “Does that mean we’re

  blossomed with glowing health. Great airships

  actually in the year 2418—or are we victims

  Wonder Stories

  8

  of a hoax?” I demanded.

  to go—”

  “We’re in 2418 or dreaming

  We approached the low-lying

  nightmares.”

  structures, which seemed to hint at ravaged

  centuries, and old memories flooded my mind.

  WE were in a desert, a vast plain of shifting

  Two memorable and oft-recalled years of my

  sand. A group of buildings, crumbling ruins,

  youth had been spent in Tibet with a scientific

  lay half-buried a few hundred yards before us.

  expedition sent out by the American Museum

  Silence shrouded us and I saw Clay clutch his

  of Natural History. I represented a newspaper

  throat in a gesture of despair. Stouthearted

  syndicate on that golden venture, reporting the

  Bert Clay was a man of vaunting courage, but

  finding of dinosaur skeletons and their

  the bleak misery of our situation preyed on his

  stupendous eggs. The structures in the sand

  mind now. Indeed, while I attempted to cheer

  resembled nothing so much on earth as the

  him, I could not help but reflect on the temples of lamas who dominated the problems that confronted us. How were we

  forbidding inner country of Asia in 1930.

  ever to return to our own time?

  I wondered as I stared out at the ruined

  The glass door floated before us, and

  structures, how we had come to find ourselves

  the miracle chamber walls, but the laboratory

  in the heart of Asia. The buildings covered a

  had vanished into the vacuum of eternity. surprising ground area, at least ten acres, and Save for the illusory walls, we were castaways

  were of mud-brick construction. Their pagoda

  in a trackless wilderness of sand.

  towers were in various stages of collapse. I

  “We’re done for, Bert, if we ever lose

  stopped the machine by pulling the stick back.

  track of that dial,” I warned.

  “Hey, anybody around?” Clay shouted,

  “I’m afraid we’re done for anyway.”

  opening the door.

  “Keep a stiff upper lip.”

  Only the hot wind of the desert

  He smiled. Good old Bert Clay. I knew

  answered him—a mocking echo. We closed

  as I watched the smile sweep his rugged face

  the door and again moved on, shading our

  that I could not have found a finer or truer

  eyes with cupped hands against the blinding

  companion for such an adventure. “Take a

  sunlight. Apparently the region about the

  look, Lane, I’m grinning like a Cheshire cat.”

  lamasary was deserted. I pondered on the ruin

  I was now examining a few other dials

  that desolated the landscape. Probably

  and levers in the mysterious room. One struck

  hundreds of years had passed since the prayers

  me as being similar to the “stick” of a 1930

  of lama monks rose to heaven from these

  airplane.

  ancient walls.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  My thoughts wandered as I struggled

  Clay shook his head. “I dunno.”

  to patch together the events that had taken

  “Well, we can’t lose much by finding

  place since our talk with Larry Stenson that

  out,” I said philosophically, and suiting action

  night. The amazing series of catastrophes and

  to words, I shoved the stick forward. jagged events pierced my brain. I speculated Immediately the glass box began to roll on the possible fate that had befallen Stenson forward on its wheels, with us comfortably

  and how it came about that he had lost control

  within.

  of the indicator that annihilated time so

  Clay sprang forward and looked out

  marvelously.

  incredulously. “We’re moving!”

  Cold fear bore down upon me as I

  “Certainly,” I exclaimed beaming. realized that possibly a like fate awaited Clay

  “This is a time-o-mobile. Where do you want

  and me. We might be marooned in the far

  The Time Annihilator

  9

  future, unable ever to return to our own time

  were, in 1945, to the sight of Zeppelins and

  and generation. Beads of sweat stood out on

  other huge aircraft, we could not restrain

  my forehead.

  exclamations of astonishment. The

  Time swirled about us like a cyclone, a

  tremendous bulk darted toward the desert

  black cloud tearing violently across the sand, slowing its speed and settling without a horizon of humanity, sweeping all before its

  jar a few hundred yards away.

  horrible path. Time was all powerful and weak

  “Well I’ll be hanged!” exclaimed Clay.

  as a baby. Time exterminated all and was in

  “What was that?”

  turn swallowed and eaten in the teeth of a

  “It looks like a great building. Must be

  dragon. Madly fantastic thoughts clawed made of mighty light material.”

  through my overwhelmed mind. I pictured

  “It’s a palace of some sort. Look at the

  Clay and myself suspended in a void of walls how they gleam in the sunlight. They eternity, hanging on capricious winds between

  seem to be covered with gems.”

  heaven and earth like the tomb of Mohammed.

  A gate of the sky palace opened and

  We were petty creatures in a dream world of

  three beings emerged. They were much larger

  misty unreality.

  than the human species, with monstrous heads

  “Suppose I try and turn the dial back

  and long arms that reached to their knees. We

  again?” said Clay.

  fled in our mach
ine across the desert lashed by

  “No, I’m afraid we’ll jam the works.

  terror. The three gigantic beings, however,

  We’ve had marvelous luck so far.”

  quite evidently failed to perceive us. We were

  “You call it luck?”

  evidently invisible to them.

  ‘Well, we haven’t been exterminated

  “Funny they don’t chase us,” panted

  so far. The machine is the most devilish Clay.

  contrivance ever devised. Let us study it a

  “We’d be in a tough way if they did. They

  while before taking any other moves.”

  must be at least nine feet tall. Can’t you see,

  “Just as you say. But I’m afraid we’re

  Bert, we’re invisible men to them? We don’t

  going to starve to death in this desert.”

  really exist to them at all while we’re in our

  “And we haven’t eaten—for thousands

  machine.”

  of years.”

  “In other words we’re just like

  “Yes, but we lived through these years

  spirits?”

  almost instantaneously. At least I can’t figure

  “That’s it exactly. We really have no existence

  out how long the lapse was.”

  to people living in the year 2418. Don’t you

  “Let’s quit philosophizing.”

  remember how we mixed with crowds in the

  cities we passed through? They didn’t see us

  either.”

  CHAPTER III

  “And these men can’t see us, unless

  A Strange Conversation

  we get out of our machine. Mighty strange

  situation.”

 

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