Time Travel Omnibus, page 234
“Reversed entropy—you entered the time track backward—your time arrow was pointing backward.”
“Yes, I figured that out later, when I had time to think about it. Just then I was too busy. I was in a clearing in the crowd, but the ring of people was closing in on me, all running backward. The cops disappeared in the crowd, and the crowd ran right up to me, stopped, and started to scream. Just as that happened, the traffic lights changed, cars charged out from both directions, driving backward. The drivers all seemed to be like the Fillyloo Bird that flies backward because he doesn’t care where he’s going, but he likes to see where he’s been.
“It was too much for little Helen. I fainted.
“Following that I seemed to slant at an angle through a lot of places at once—”
“Just a second,” Howard interrupted, “just what happened before that? I thought I savvied entropy, But that got me licked.”
“Well,” explained Frost, “the easiest way to explain it is to say that she was traveling backward in time. Her future was their past, and vice versa. I’m glad she got out in a hurry. I’m not sure that human metabolism can be maintained in such conditions.
“Hm-m-m. Go ahead, Helen.”
“This slanting through the axis would have been startling if I hadn’t been emotionally exhausted already. I sat back and watched it, like a movie. It was surrealist, kind o’—I think Salvador Dali wrote the scenario. I saw landscapes heave and shift like a stormy sea. People melted into plants—I think my own body changed at times, but I can’t be sure. Once I found myself in a place that was all insides instead of outsides, like the surface of the Earth is. Some of the things I saw we’ll skip—T don’t believe them myself.
“Then I slowed down in a place that must have had an extra spatial dimension. Everything looked three dimensional to me, but they changed their shapes when I thought about them. I found I could look inside of solid objects simply by wanting to. When I tired of prying into the intimate secrets of rocks and plants, I took a look at myself, and it worked just as well. I know more about anatomy and physiology now than an M.D. It’s fun to watch your heart beat—kind o’ cute.
“But my appendix was swollen and inflamed. I found I could reach in and touch it—it was tender. I’ve had some trouble with it, so I decided to perform an emergency operation. I nipped it off with my nails. It didn’t hurt at all; bled a couple of drops and closed right up.”
“Good heavens, child! You might have gotten peritonitis and died.”
“I don’t think so. I believe that ultra-violet was pouring all through me and killing the bugs. I had a fever for a while, but I think that what caused it was a bad case of internal sunburn.
“I forgot to mention that I couldn’t walk around in this place, for I couldn’t seem to touch anything but myself. I sliced right through anything I tried to get a purchase on. Pretty soon I quit trying and relaxed. It was comfortable, and I went into a warm, happy doze, like a hibernating bear.
“After a long time—a long, long time—I went sound asleep and came to in your big easy-chair. That’s all.”
HELEN ANSWERED Howard’s anxious inquiries by telling him that she had seen nothing of Estelle in her travels. “But why don’t you calm down and wait? She isn’t really overdue yet.”
They were interrupted by the opening of the door from the hall. A short wiry figure in a hooded brown tunic and tight brown breeches strode into the room.
“Where’s Dr. Frost? Oh—Doctor, I need help!”
It was Monroe, but changed almost beyond recognition. He had been short and slender before, but was now barely five feet tall, and stocky, with powerful shoulder muscles. In the brown costume with its peaked hood, or helmet, he bore a strong resemblance to the popular notion of a gnome.
Frost hurried to him. “What is it, Robert? How can I help?”
“This first.” Monroe hunched forward for inspection his left upper arm. The fabric was tattered and charred, exposing an ugly burn of many square inches. “He just grazed me, but it had better be fixed if I am to save the arm.”
Frost examined it without touching it. “We must rush you to a hospital.”
“No time. I’ve got to get back. They need me—and the help I can bring.”
The doctor shook his head. “You’ve got to have treatment for that arm, Bob. Even if there is strong need for you to go back wherever you have been, you are in a different time track now. Time lost here isn’t necessarily lost there.” Monroe cut him short. “I think this world and my world have connected time rates. I must hurry.” Helen Fisher placed herself between them. “Let me see that arm, Bob. Hm-m-m—pretty nasty, but I think I can fix it. Professor, put a kettle on the fire with about a cup of water in it. As soon as it boils, chuck in a handful of tea leaves.” She rummaged through the kitchen cutlery drawer, found a pair of shears, and did a neat, almost professional job of cutting away the sleeve and cleaning the burned flesh for dressing. Monroe talked as she worked.
“Howard, I want you to do me a favor. Get a pencil and paper and take down a list. I want a flock of things to take back with me—all of them things that you can pick up at the fraternity house. You’ll have to go for me—I’d be thrown out with my present appearance. What’s the matter? Don’t you want to do it?”
Helen hurriedly explained Howard’s preoccupation. Monroe listened sympathetically. “Oh! Say, that’s tough lines, old man.” His brow wrinkled in thought. “But look—you can’t do Estelle any good by waiting here, and I really do need your help for the next half-hour. Will you do it?”
Jenkins reluctantly agreed. Monroe continued:
“Fine! I do appreciate it. Go to my room first and gather up my reference books on math—also my slide rule. You’ll find a limp-leather, India-paper radio manual, too. I want that. And I want your twenty-inch Jog-log duplex slide rule, as well as my own. You can have my Rabelais and the Droll Stories. I want your Mark’s ‘Mechanical Engineers’ Handbook,’ and any other technical reference books that you have and I haven’t. Take anything you like in exchange.
“Then go up to Stinky Beanfield’s room and get his ‘Military Engineers’ Handbook,’ his ‘ ‘Chemical Warfare,’ and his texts on ballistics and ordnance. Yes, and Miller’s ‘Chemistry of Explosives,’ if he has one. If not, pick up one from some other of the R.O.T.C. boys; it’s important.” Helen was deftly applying a poultice to his arm. He winced a little as the tea leaves, still warm, touched his seared flash, but went ahead.
“Stinky keeps his service automatic in his upper bureau drawer, along with a target pistol and some other junk. Swipe it, or talk him out of it. Bring as much ammunition as you can find—Colt .45. I’ll write out a bill of sale for my car for you to leave for him. Now get going. I’ll tell doc all about it, and he can tell you later. Here. Take my car.” He fumbled at his thigh, then looked annoyed. “Heavens! I don’t have my keys. I’d forgotten that.”
Helen came to the rescue. “Take mine. The keys are in my bag on the hall table.”
Howard got up. “O.K., I’ll do my damnedest. If I get flung in the can, bring me cigarettes.” He went out.
HELEN put the finishing touches on the bandages. “There! I think that will do. How does it feel?”
He flexed his arm cautiously. “O.K. It’s a neat job, kid. The tannic acid takes the sting out.”
“I believe it will heal right up if you keep tannin solution on it. Can you get tea leaves where you are going?”
“Yes, and pure tannic acid, too. I’ll be all right. Now you deserve an explanation for your trouble. Professor, do you have a cigarette on you? I could use some of that coffee, too, if there is any left.”
“Surely, Robert.” Frost happened to serve him.
Monroe accepted a light and began:
“It’s all pretty cockeyed. When I came out of the sleep I found myself, dressed as I am now and looking as I now look, marching down a long, deep fosse. I say marching because I was one of a column of threes in a military detachment. The odd part about it is that I felt perfectly natural. I knew where I was and why I was there—and who I was. I don’t mean Robert Monroe; my name over there is Igor.” Monroe pronounced the guttural deep in his throat and trilled the “r.”
“I hadn’t forgotten Monroe; it was more as if I had suddenly remembered him. I had one identity and two pasts. There wasn’t any conflict in my mind. It was something like waking up from a clearly remembered dream, only the dream was perfectly real. I knew Monroe was real, just as I knew Igor was real.
“My world is much like Earth: a bit smaller, but much the same surface gravity. Men like myself are the dominant race, and we are about as civilized as you folks, but our culture has followed a somewhat different course. We live underground a boll half the time. Our homes are there, and a lot of our industry. You see, it’s warm underground in our world, and not entirely dark. There is a mild radioactivity, mostly light and heat, with a few hard rays.
“Nevertheless, we are a surface-evolved race, and can’t be healthy nor happy if we stay underground all the time. Now there is a war on, and we’ve been driven underground for eight or nine Earth months. The war is going against us. As it stands now. we have lost control of the surface, and my race is being reduced to the status of hunted vermin.
“You see, we aren’t fighting human beings. I don’t know just what it is we are fighting—maybe beings from outer space. We don’t know. They attacked us several places at once from great flying rings the like of which we had never seen. They burned us down without warning. Many of us escaped underground, where they haven’t followed us. They don’t operate at night, either—seem to need sunlight to be active. So it’s a stalemate now, or was, until they started gassing our tunnels.
“WE’VE never captured one of them, and consequently don’t know what makes them tick. We examined a ring that crashed, but didn’t learn much. There was nothing inside that even vaguely resembled animal life, nor was there anything to support animal life as we know it. I mean there were no food supplies, nor sanitary arrangements. Opinion is about evenly divided between the idea that the enemy is some sort of nonprotoplasmic intelligence, perhaps force patterns, or that the ring we examined was remotely controlled, or something else equally esoteric.
“Our principle weapon is a beam which creates a stasis in the ether and freezes ’em solid. Or rather it should, for it will destroy all life and prevent molar action—but the rings are simply put temporarily out of control. Unless we can keep a beam on a ring right to the moment it crashes, it always recovers and gets away. Then its pals come and burn out our position.
“We’ve had better luck with mining their surface camps and blowing them up at night. We’re accomplished sappers, of course. But we need some more decisive weapon. That’s what I sent Howard after. I’ve got two ideas. If the enemy is simply some sort of intelligent force pattern, or something like that, radio may be the answer. We might be able to fill up the ether with static, for instance, and jam them right out of existence. If they are too tough for that, perhaps some good old-fashioned antiaircraft fire might make them say ‘uncle.’ In any case, there is a lot of technology here that we don’t have, and which may have the answer. I wish I had time to pass on some of our stuff in return for what I’m taking with me.”
“You are determined to go back, Robert?”
“Certainly. It’s where I belong. I’ve no family here. I don’t know how to make you see it, doc, but those are my people—that is my world. I suppose if the conditions were reversed, and there was someone I loved enough to be fighting for here, I’d feel differently.”
“I see,” said Helen, “you’re fighting for the wife and kids.”
He turned a weary face toward her. “Not exactly. I’m a bachelor over there, but I’ve a family to think about, all right. My sister is in command of the attack unit I’m in, not to mention my other relatives. Oh, yes, the women are in it—they’re little and tough, like you, Helen.”
She touched his arm lightly. “How did you pick up this?”
“That burn? You remember we were on the march when I arrived over there. We were retreating down that ditch from an unsuccessful surface raid. I thought we had made good our escape, when all of a sudden a ring swooped down on us. Most of the detachment scattered, but I’m a junior technician armed with the stasis ray. I tried to get my equipment unlimbered and set up to, fight back, but I was burned down before I could finish. Luckily it barely grazed me. Several of the others were fried. I don’t know yet whether or not sis got hers. That’s one of the reasons why I’m in a hurry to get back.
“One of the other technicians who wasn’t hit got his gear set up and covered our retreat. I was dragged underground and taken to a dressing station. The medicos were about to work on me when I lost consciousness and came to in the professor’s study.”
THE FRONT doorbell rang and the professor got up to answer it. Helen and Robert followed him. It was Howard, bearing spoils.
“Did you get everything?” Robert asked anxiously.
“I think so. Stinky was in, but I managed to borrow his books. The gun was a little harder, but I telephoned a friend of mine and had him call back and ask for Stinky. While he was out of the room I lifted the gun. Now I’m a criminal—government property, too.”
“You’re a real pal, Howard. After you hear the explanation you’ll agree that it was worth doing. Won’t he, Helen?”
“Absolutely!” She nodded vigorously.
“Well, I hope you’re right,” he answered dubiously. “I brought along something else, just in case. Here it is.” He handed Robert a book.
“ ‘Aerodynamics and Principles of Aircraft Construction,’ ” Robert read aloud. “How did I forget that? Thanks, Howard.”
“One moment, Robert. How do you know that these invaluable books will go with you?”
“Why not? That’s why I’m fastening them to me.”
“Did your earthly clothing go through the first time?”
“No-o-o—” His brow furrowed and he hesitated. “Good grief, doc, what can I do? I couldn’t possibly memorize what I need to know.”
“I don’t know, son. Let’s think about it a bit.” Frost broke off and stared at the ceiling. Presently Helen touched his hand.
“Perhaps I can help, professor.”
“In what way, Helen?”
“Apparently I, don’t metamorphize when I change time tracks. I had the same clothes with me everywhere I went. Why couldn’t I ferry this stuff over for Bob?”
“Hm-m-m, perhaps you could.”
“No, I couldn’t let you do that,” interposed Monroe, “you might get killed or badly hurt.”
“I’ll chance it.”
“I’ve got an idea!” put in Jenkins. “Couldn’t Dr. Frost set his instructions so that Helen would go over and come right back? How about it, doc?”
“Hm-m-m, yes, perhaps.” But Helen held up a hand.
“No good. The boodle might come bouncing right back with me. I’ll go over without any return instructions. I like the sound of this world of Bob’s anyway. I may stay there. Cut out the chivalry, Bob. One of the things I liked about your world was the notion of treating men and women alike. Get unstuck from that stuff and start hanging it on me. I’m going.”
She presented an appearance something like a Christmas tree when the dozen-odd books had been tied to various parts of her solid little figure, the automatic pistol strapped on, and the two slide rules, one long and one short, stuck in the pistol belt.
Howard fondled the large slide rule before he fastened it on. “Take good care of this slipstick, Bob,” he said. “I gave up smoking for six months to pay for it.”
Frost seated the two youngsters side by side on the sofa in the study. Helen slipped a hand into Bob’s. When the shining ball had been made to spin, Frost motioned for Jenkins to leave, closed the door after him, and switched out the light. Then he started repeating hypnotic suggestions in a monotone.
Ten minutes later he felt a slight swish of air and ceased. He snapped the light switch. The sofa was empty, even of books.
FROST AND JENKINS kept an uneasy vigil while awaiting Estelle’s return. Jenkins wandered nervously around the study, examining objects that didn’t interest him and smoking countless cigarettes. The professor sat quietly in his easy-chair, simulating a freedom from anxiety that he did not feel. They conversed in a desultory fashion.
“One thing I don’t see,” observed Jenkins, “is why in the world Helen could go a dozen places and not change, and Bob goes just one place and comes back almost unrecognizable—shorter, heavier, and decked out in outlandish clothes. How do you explain those things, professor?”
“Eh? I don’t explain them—I merely observe them. Maybe his clothes underwent a change, too, or perhaps they are floating around somewhere in space-time. I think perhaps he changed, while Helen didn’t, because Helen was just a visitor to the places she went to, whereas Monroe belonged over there. Perhaps the Great Architect intended for him to cross over.”
“Huh? Good heavens, doctor, surely you don’t believe in divine predestination!”
“Perhaps not in those terms. But, Howard, you mechanistic skeptics make me tired. Your naive ability to believe that things ‘jest growed’ approaches childishness. According to you, a fortuitous accident of entropy produced Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony.”
“I think that’s a little unfair, doctor. You certainly don’t expect a man to believe in things that run contrary to his good sense without offering him any reasonable explanation.”
Frost snorted. “I certainly do—if he has observed it with his own eyes and ears, or gets it from a source known to be credible. A fact doesn’t have to be understood to be true.
“Now these events tonight, which you are so anxious to rationalize in orthodox terms, furnish a clue to a lot of things that scientists have been rejecting because they couldn’t explain them. Have you ever heard the tale of the man who walked around the horses? No? Well, about 1810, Benjamin Bathurst, British ambassador to Austria, arrived in his carriage at an inn in Perleberg, Germany. He had his valet and secretary with him. They drove into the lighted courtyard of the inn. Bathurst got out and, in the presence of the bystanders and his two attaches, walked around the horses. He hasn’t been seen since.”
