Time Travel Omnibus, page 112
“Eloise,” he cried, “Eloise, my beloved, how came you here?”
Eloise was quite as deeply moved as was Edward. The shock of this fateful meeting was truly as great to her as to him. Neither of them had known of the other’s misfortune until they met thus, for the first time in months. What a love tryst was this! The same death that was to separate them on earth would also unite them once more in eternity.
All that Eloise could say was, “I have been betrayed. I was led, not to a place of freedom, but to prison. Oh, my adored one, let us lift up our eyes to heaven. There is no help left on earth!”
She gave but one, pitiful, despairing glance at Edward ere they led her to the plank. Upon Edward’s face settled a look of exalted love. He knew her then, at that supreme moment, for the great soul she truly was.
Convinced
I TURNED towards De Coven and read his mind as clearly as an open book. Disappointed in his own hopes for the affection of Eloise, he had betrayed her to the authorities, in exchange for his own liberty—and had been outwitted in the end. A truly poetic justice here! The same moment that gave him his revenge would also bring him before the bar of judgment to answer for his crimes.
Although the guillotine in action was what I had come expressly two hundred years to see, still I could not bring myself to witness the deaths of these two young aristocrats. Rather, I chose to watch the antics of the eager crowd of spectators. Here was a drama with reverse settings; instead of playing the usual role of suffering actors, they now formed the audience to enjoy the spectacle of their former masters going through those parts, indifferently well.
They formed a ring around the blood-stained machine and kept up a constant fire of invectives, jests, and curses. For the most part, they were composed of the scum of the city. My professional eye noted the criminal, the diseased, the morbid types with, here and there, the face of a dreamer.
“Cheer up, aristocrat,” shouted one burly ruffian: “The ax is a fine barber!”
“Now, my beauty, in a moment you will have a whiter complexion than the flour your father stole from me,” cried another.
“Death to the traitors,” roared the multitude. “Death—!”
But, at this very moment, with a confused murmur of sounds still ringing in my ears, the whole dramatic picture faded slowly away. I opened my eyes—not upon the place of the guillotine—but in the peaceful laboratory of Mr. Brown. I looked at the clock. It was exactly 9.01 p.m.
I rubbed my eyes in amazement. Could it be possible that all the successive scenes, the varied characters, the intense play of emotions, I had just witnessed, were the work of one minute of time? Even if the entire performance were but a dream, the figment of imagination, the result of hypnotic conditions, it seemed impossible that it could have been enacted in so brief a period. Yet the clock could not lie; one minute told the story.
Brown advanced to my side. “Well,” said he, with a mocking laugh; “are you now satisfied that I am not altogether in a state of hallucination? But, pardon me, I do not mean to be rude. Let me hear of your experiences on the back trail of the fourth dimension. Also, the conclusions you draw therefrom.”
I related them briefly. Somewhere, in the back of my conscious mind, I seemed to have a feeling that I myself was in some manner intimately connected with the scene; as though I had, in some former cycle of existence, been a personal actor in the drama. Perhaps, after all, this was a true explanation. I so stated my belief to Brown.
He appeared slightly peeved: “We will not let any theory intrude here. No hypothesis of reincarnation, no work of the subconscious, will fit this case. You have in reality, in very person, traveled back along the path of time and been an actual reader of its recorded history. The very characters were facts, not fiction. What you witnessed was an episode that happened in all reality and was recorded, to last forever, upon the screen of time. Whether or not some subtle chord of memory drew you to an incident of your previous life, I do not pretend to know. But do not, I beg of you, confuse this demonstration with any mere illusion of the mind. To prove this assertion I will, if you feel sufficiently able, reverse the process and place you on the path of the future.”
As a matter of fact, I was no wise exhausted by the recent experiment. Rather, I felt refreshed, as though the powerful rays shining from above, had exerted a tonic effect upon my physical being. Accordingly, I indicated my willingness to embark on the new venture.
Brown, thereupon, returned to the dial of the machine and placed his hand on the switch.
“Goodby, friend,” said he: “If I mistake not, you will return from this excursion a wiser but a sadder mortal.”
Again the vision of revolving mirrors, the blurred lights, the sensation of movement through space, assailed me, but with this difference. I seemed to be gliding upwards, instead of downwards as before, and the lines of limitation were of the nature of a spiral rather than parallel lines. Also, I had a freer outlook without the sense of a definite goal. In fact, I had a very real feeling of freedom, of expansion, of a fullness of being. I seemed to float like a thistledown blown by the wind, touching only the high spots here and there.
I have a vivid impression of pausing, for a moment, before a great tower that reached to the very clouds and flashed with a multitude of brilliant lights; the whole vast structure seemed formed of solid glass. What the purpose of this giant edifice might be, I can not venture a guess; but I do know that it left a lasting record upon my memory.
Another fleeting vision I had, of a great airship sailing swiftly and grandly through the blue sky. It had the general appearance of a splendid ocean liner and was quite as finely appointed.
Still another scene I caught of a vast concourse of queerly-dressed people. These were standing before a mighty revolving globe that scintillated with all the colors of the rainbow. Now and again they swayed back and forth as though in worship.
All these detached views, and many others, had some of the effect of a motion-picture newsreel. They flashed out vivid and distinct, though very real to me; and then, as quickly, faded out again.
Upward and upward, I rushed at a speed that appeared prodigious for a time that seemed to be endless; ever upward, through a never-ending spiral, until I grew fairly dizzy with the effort.
Suddenly, with an abrupt shock, I came to rest. That shock, I soon realized, arose from contact with the seat of an elevator that shot upward with amazing speed. Also, I saw that by my side sat an old man of very patriarchal appearance; dressed in long flowing robes of pure white, his noble head encased in a purple turban, a benign smile upon his face. He greeted me.
“Another messenger from the earth-plane,” said he.
“I welcome you to these realms of the future. We receive but few from the earth-line; although a multitude come and go over the maze of lines that cross, like a spider web the infinite lanes of space. I knew of your coming, oh mortal, by ways you cannot comprehend. I am here to act as your monitor while you remain.”
He bent over and kissed my forehead. “At this point we alight,” said he, and forthwith conducted me out upon an elevated platform.
I gazed over a landscape so wonderful that words will scarcely suffice to describe. An immense city stretching as far as the eye could see, resplendent with Gothic spires and shining golden domes. Each separate building gleamed with a soft iridescent color that had all the beauty of a summer rainbow, so symmetrically arranged as to give the effect of perfect harmony.
The Man of the Future
I ONCE saw a splendid painting, entitled “The City of Heaven”; here was such a picture made real. I looked and looked as one who is in a trance. I could not voluntarily withdraw my eyes from this enchanted land; for here, plainly, had man achieved all that the most inspired artist, or the most enraptured poet, could have dreamed.
My guide, however, drew me gently aside and, placing me in a small closed car, pressed a button. Almost in an instant we arrived at the entrance of one of these exquisite habitations; thence, up a short flight of magnificent stairs we passed into the rest and quiet of a delightful room. The walls of this room were of some translucent material that admitted a subdued light and, also, served to illuminate designs of flowers, and other works of art embedded in the walls, so that they stood out in a most realistic manner.
My monitor motioned me to a comfortable chair and took his station beside me.
“Now,” said he, “you are, no doubt, anxious to know what all this means, how I came to meet and recognize you, and something of the significance of this far journey of yours.
“In the first place, we of this blessed land are those of the past who have achieved the promise of the future. We have entered upon the fourth dimension where there exist no limitations such as your fettered race endures. To us, the boundaries of matter have ceased to be. We move freely, live gloriously, enjoy life to the utmost. Years are of no account, sickness is unknown, the elements torment us not at all. We devote ourselves wholly to the pursuit of knowledge. In short, we are in the very Utopia of which you mortals dream.
“By arts, unknown to you, the vast scroll of the past unfolds for us. We read history as it actually is without distortion or additions. By this art did I know of your coming—See—” He pressed a button and the wall towards which I faced flashed instantly into a living picture.
On this screen, I saw myself reclining on the crystal block within the laboratory of Mr. Brown. I saw myself embarking upon this adventure. I again reviewed some of the same fleeting pictures along the path I had previously witnessed—only this time more clear and perfect.
Also, in a larger way, I saw the struggle of the human race towards the higher life; battles, famine, peace, prosperity, rural landscapes, metropolitan settings, nations arising and declining, the sordid things of life, its petty concerns, its small and narrow outlooks, its selfish ambitions. Many fine endeavors, too, I beheld; and the great souls who painfully led the masses forward. All these and a host of others crowded this wonderful panorama of human advancement.
Upon the screen I saw many of the inhabitants of the city. Beautiful women and splendid men they were too. No hint of petty ambitions, no disappointed passions marred their noble features. All, alike, bore the impress of a serene and perfect contentment. They had evidently arrived at the summit of mental and spiritual perfection. They were the blessed children of promise.
How mean and useless the life I knew seemed to be in comparison. Oh, that I might become such as they! Oh, might I remain forever in this glorious abode! I turned towards my guide to voice this ardent prayer. I looked once more into the smiling face of Brown.
“Mr. Brown,” I remarked, after I had recovered my earthly equilibrium, “you are truly a prophet. I am, indeed, wiser by a thousand years and sadder by all the longings of one who has had a glimpse of paradise and been denied admission. To what I am to attribute this experience, I must confess I do not know. Certainly it did not arise from anything within my subconscious mind. I have never, in my wildest moments, even dreamed of the amazing vision I have just beheld.”
“So,” laughed Brown: “The skeptic has become the enthusiast. All the better then, for you will make an ideal subject for the final experiment I desire you to take. All of your former voyages, within the fourth dimension, have been along the common attributes of time. The past, up to a certain point, is but the recorded history of mankind; the future, the foreshadowed events of destiny. But time has an infinite number of angles not so readily understood. It was while exploring one of these mystic lines that I well-nigh lost my life. I feel that it was for the lack of a trained second person to watch the machine, rather than from any failure of the method, that the disaster resulted. Hence, I ask you to act as the investigator under my direction. Do you feel willing?”
I was more than inclined, I was almost anxious. Here was one further opportunity to completely remove any lingering doubt and at the same time enjoy, even though an illusion, another novel adventure.
“What might be the nature of the trip, flight, or what-not?” I inquired?
“It is a very curious affair with, absolutely, no basis of earthly comparison,” answered Brown: “It is akin to sensation produced by color and sound, as though one could give these two attributes form and life. More, indeed, as though one had taken certain drugs, but without the physical reaction. Before we proceed further, I will take your pulse and temperature so that we may be satisfied on that point.”
He did so and found them normal.
For the final experiment, he made some different arrangements in the apparatus. He changed the mirrors from a vertical to a horizontal position and placed a row of huge magnets, in a geometric circle, around the crystal block. Also, this time, he did not set the dial but, instead, stood watch in hand as he turned the control.
I became immediately conscious of walking along a vast hollow cube, or rather a series of hollow cubes that seemed to extend to the very center of vision. A box-like effect such as one is taught to draw in school, but with this startling difference, that each plane surface multiplied itself into an endless number of planes; each right angle into an infinite number of right angles; so that I had the impression of a bewildering maze of angles and planes.
I, also, became possessed of a sense of accelerated motion. The six common directions of up and down, backward and forward, right and left, enlarged to an alarming extent. I felt entirely equal to a sort of double movement in opposite directions at the same time. With me, parallel lines did meet, the straight line was not necessarily the shortest, and the point was not always the starting point of demonstration. In a word, all the usual mathematical formulas were in the discard; I lived, for the moment, in a superworld where mundane rules no longer applied.
The realization of this condition brought on a delicious sense of freedom, of uplifted spirits, of casting off human fetters, that filled me with intense happiness. I was monarch of all I surveyed.
I moved, joyfully along one avenue from which flowed a beam of purple light; a living, moving, laughing light, that glowed in undulating waves, entwining itself about me like a circle of wonderful flowers, a flame that expressed not merely light but sound and color, also.
From still another angle of this mystic maze came an endless pulse of melody, like the minor key of some great celestial organ. A strange perfume mingled with the sound, intoxicating as a rare day in June.
From countless other angles came crowding a vast concord of utmost sensations so exquisite as to overpower me. Every sense quivered to these tempestuous raptures.
I faltered. Some inner voice gave warning. I could not long endure this surge of exalted emotions—and live. I was not sufficiently prepared. I was a neophyte upon the path of the masters. I faltered. I awoke.
Brown still held the watch. “Five minutes,” said he.
He felt my pulse. “Normal,” he reckoned.
“In short,” he concluded, “a very successful excursion into the domain of Time, the Conqueror.”
CHAPTER III
Back to Atlantis
AFTER my return from those amazing excursions into the fourth dimension, I had no dealings with Mr. Brown for several months. I knew, however, from the activity going on in his laboratory that he was busily engaged in something new. Therefore I was in no way surprised to receive, one day, an invitation to call at his home, prepared to spend some time in co-operating with him upon an interesting experiment. The nature of the experiment was not revealed in the note, but I was requested to bring with me my medical kit.
By this time I was an active believer in the genius of Brown, and no longer scoffed at the possibility of his achievements or doubted his sanity of mind. In fact, I would have been delighted to have heralded to the world the wonder and value of them but for the positive interdiction of the inventor, himself. Said he: “The world is not yet ready for my message. It would still reject my claims. I must have more certain, more tangible proof, before I lay my results before the public—if I ever do!”
As on the first visit, I was received cordially and Brown plunged at once into the object of the invitation.
“We are now about to embark upon a voyage into space,” said he, “that will test our ingenuity and our physical resources to the utmost. I am going to undertake the transportation of ourselves and our equipment to a distant land, a land so remote and so shadowy that it is lost in the midst of legendary history—no less than that far famed country of Atlantis! Here I hope to witness in person what has heretofore been only recorded in fancy and, if possible, to bring back with us some living, actual evidence. In short, like Columbus, I expect to return with some visible object that even the most skeptically minded can not deny.
“To this end, I have devised some special equipment. Come, I will show it to you.” He led me into his laboratory. It was completely rearranged; in the center of the room, in place of the previous crystal block, stood a one-roomed house that had the outward appearance of solid glass. Within, I was shown a comfortable apartment equipped with all the necessary furniture and provisions for an extended stay. Also, a complete outfit of arms, cameras, and other articles whose exact nature I did not understand.
Mr. Brown proceeded to make matters clearer to me. He indicated the glass house: “Here will be our quarters for an uncertain period. It will be our key to the fourth dimension. While we remain within its portals, we will be invisible and secure. If we venture forth from this shelter, however, we will run great risks the nature of which I cannot now surmise. I have engaged a trained assistant to run the machine at the laboratory, so that we will be safe on that score. As to the rest, we must leave that in the hands of fate. With this information, do you feel disposed to venture with me?”
