The Space Between Time

by Bruce Macfarlane

  “Not quite. We built the coil, flicked a switch and found ourselves here.”

  “Where is your machine?”

  “I think somewhere in the future but I can’t be sure.”

  I was pleased he did not answer Mr Tesla’s question directly for I did not know what interest he might have in our device.

  “And you do not know exactly where it is?”

  “Nope.” said James, giving what I thought was a blatant lie.

  Mr Tesla drew back disappointed. “Then you do not know how you will return.”

  “’Afraid not. Can you help?”

  Mr Tesla’s enthusiasm returned. “I will do what I can. Now that I know that time travel is possible.”

  “Thank you,” I said very gratefully, “But pray tell me what year is this?”

  “Why, 1895.”

  “And the date?” said James.

  Tesla removed a fob watch from his pocket, “It is nearly midnight. So it is still the 12th of March.”

  The bottom nearly fell out of my world because I remembered that the next day Mr Wells said the shift across time occurred and Tesla’s laboratory was destroyed.

  ------------------------------------

  J.

  This was no coincidence. I now realised the Martians had built that Tesla coil at the cavern and designed it so it would transport us to just before the time shift. It was obvious what our mission was. To stop Tesla switching on his apparatus and changing the world. The only thing not obvious was why did they choose us? Oh! And how were we supposed to do it? Suddenly I wondered what time of the day Tesla pressed the red button and I felt that familiar cold sweat on the back of my neck. But that was nothing compared to the realisation that I had just possibly asked him to use his apparatus to help us get back home and doing so would probably cause the shift in time. I tried to think how I could get Elizabeth to understand what I was thinking without annoying Tesla. Luckily my wife has a very intuitive brain.

  She said, “Mr Tesla, we are very grateful for your offer. Are you considering using your apparatus to help us?”

  “Why, yes. Over the course of the past few months I have managed to acquire from the Governor of New York the permission to use the electrical power of this whole block. I am convinced this will be sufficient for our needs.”

  I said, “How much power do you have?”

  “Enough to generate between ten million and a hundred million volts in the secondary coil.”

  I felt a little faint. Elizabeth noticed and steadied my arm.

  “OK,” I swallowed, “When do we start?”

  “As you can see from the lightning discharges it has already begun.” he said with the innocent smile of an idiot who doesn’t know what he is doing.

  And as if to emphasise this a line of plasma which until that moment had been happily playing with the wall, jumped and landed with a thwack on a girder just behind us. Seeing the expression on our faces that this had caused he said, “Don’t worry you are quite safe where you are.”

  Neither of us really believed him and in response we instinctively drew closer to each other in the hope that two rather clammy persons huddled together would be a less of a target for the plasma.

  Then Elizabeth spoke. “Please excuse me. But if you have already activated your machine before we arrived, what was your purpose?”

  And this is why you shouldn’t let women in the work place. You hold a meeting with your mates, most of whom are your drinking pals, to solve a problem. Go through rigorous procedures to reach a conclusion and then the token woman comes up with the blindingly obvious by circumventing everything you’ve said. She’s getting a good seeing to when we get home.

  Tesla seemed a little embarrassed. “Please humour me but this experiment you see before you is an attempt to communicate with Mars.”

  “Why?” we both said in unison accompanied by the change of direction of the plasma which had just been passing over us.

  That surprised him. I could tell he was obviously used to people regarding him as mentally unstable when he brought the subject up.

  “Are you not concerned that I wish to communicate with Mars?”

  “No, we communicate with the Martians all the time. Or to be more truthful the little whatsits communicate with us.”

  “There are people living on Mars?”

  “Yes. And on Earth.”

  His face reminded of me of one those religious paintings of saints who had just seen their first glimpse of heaven. For a moment, my heart felt for him. I knew from what little I had read of his works that he had spent every waking hour of his life for this purpose. He grabbed my hand and shook it.

  “Then my experiment will work! All these years, at last through the power of this machine I will contact another race! I knew that by the power of electro-magnetic pulses I would be able to reach across space to other civilisations!”

  I swear he danced a little jig at that point.

  Unfortunately, I knew what I had to do next and I was feeling a little guilty. For if I couldn’t find a way to turn off his machine we weren’t going to get back home. People think scientists are very tenacious in their quests for truth but sadly that’s not true. They are very tenacious in trying to prove their theories are correct. There is a difference.

  I said to Elizabeth, “I’m going to tell him the truth.”

  She could see I was having difficulty with it.

  “No. Let me tell it, James. He and I are of the same world.”

  And this is why if there any important decisions to be made about our world, both our sexes should be present.

  ----------------

  E.

  I could see that Mr Tesla was a man of dedication and therefore to convince him that his life’s work would not reach the conclusion he wished would require some work. I have come to realise this is often difficult for men for they are trained from birth to demonstrate that they are successful in the eyes of others. We women do not help, for money generally resides with successful men and for a woman to raise a family with hope of aspirations, a man with money, especially in the world in which I was raised, is required. Success is relative, of course. James is not rich by any means and often we must count our pennies but we have a home together and health. And of course, love brings much comfort. I do sometimes wonder if I had stayed in my own world how much the need for money would have had to compete with that emotion.

  I also wonder why I digress so often from the subject in question.

  “Mr Tesla.” I began, “You may not enjoy what I have to say but please remember that my husband tells me that your work will become so famous that they will name the unit of... oh, what was it, James?”

  “Magnetic field strength. One tesla is a weber per square metre in SI units.”

  “Yes, sorry. I can assure you, Mr Tesla, that whenever that is measured it will be measured in units of tesla.”

  I think he visibly melted with pride.

  “But I must tell you that if you leave that machine on you will alter the fabric of time and space and transport the world’s population to a new world.”

  To my surprise this did not cause him consternation.

  “Will it be a better place?”

  “Different.” said James.

  “I see. Then what will happen if I turn off on my apparatus?”

  “None of this will happen. Elizabeth and I will have a nice picnic. Wells won’t turn up and spoil it. And we won’t build a Tesla coil to come back to tell you not to turn yours on.”

  “I see,” said Mr Tesla. He thought for a few moments, turning to his machine and back to us several times. Then his expression changed to an almost sardonic smile and he said, “Much as I would not like to ruin your picnic, the problem is my apparatus cannot be turned off.”

  “What do you mean? Just turn the power supply off.”

  “That will have no effect.” Another bolt of lightning hit the cage, “I have designed it so that it is self-perpetuating.”<
br />
  “That’s impossible.” said James, “The first law of thermodynamics won’t allow it.”

  “Impossible? Why don’t you turn it off? The circuit breaker is there.” he said pointing to two very thick cables which terminated in the kind of circuit breaker you only find on large power stations.

  And as if to prove his point another large bolt of lightning shot across the room.

  “OK. I’ll do it,” said James. And he walked over to the apparatus.

  “James! What are you doing?” I shouted and caught his arm.

  “I’m going to do what I came here to do!” And he snatched his arm away.

  Then he walked over and with only a moment’s hesitation and one last look at me he pulled down the bar.

  Nothing happened.

  Bolts of lightning continued to bounce around the room.

  Mr Tesla was smiling, “See. It now powers itself. The electricity was required only to start the process. Now you see what I have achieved? This is what I will give to the world. An inexhaustible supply of free electricity!”

  “I don’t care,” said James, now very angry, possibly because his ‘heroic’ action had been to no avail. Then he lost his temper, picked up Mr Tesla’s chair and threw it at the large cage surrounding the apparatus.

  The last thing I remember was a blinding flash of blue light.

  -------------------------

  J.

  I’m not quite sure why I threw that chair. Though when asked I always say it was the only way to short circuit the Tesla coil and NOT, as someone not far from me suggested, the result of a fit of temper.

  We awoke to find ourselves back in that dark place again with the stars and galaxies drifting through the lattice. By their light, I could see Elizabeth in a kind of suspended animation. I drifted over and awoke her.

  She looked around. “Are we still here, James? I had a dream that we had met Mr Tesla and you had destroyed his machine and saved the world.”

  “It must have been a dream if you found me doing heroic things.”

  She pulled herself to me and closing her eyes she whispered, “I am so tired. Wake me when we are back home.”

  The stars and galaxies continued to pass through us. Their slow majestic movement became, for some reason, quite soporific and I joined her in sleep.

  -------------------------------

  Chapter Eleven

  J.

  I drifted in an and out of a fitful slumber. In the darkness images of Mr Tesla’s laboratory flashed before me. The two globes of Mars and Earth began to glow, slowly getting brighter. As my eyes adjusted to the new light I began to see the room again. It had changed. The lattice had disappeared to be replaced by rough-hewn stone. It looked familiar. I nudged Elizabeth awake. She raised her head from my shoulder.

  “James! We are back in the time cavern!”

  As recognisable features came into view, I said, “I’m not convinced we ever left.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think when I pressed that button we were jettisoned temporarily out of our time and space.”

  “To where? To when?”

  “Neither. I think the shock was so intense it caused a hole to appear in the fabric of space-time.”

  She thought for a moment then said, “I can understand what you say, for in my mind I can see a hole in space but space is empty. How can you have a hole in it? Unless... Oh I remember. I read that it could be filled with, what did they call them?”

  “Virtual particles. Pairs of matter and anti-matter particles. And stop reading my physics books. I’ll be out of a job if the college finds out how much you know.”

  “You shouldn’t have bought me that computer and introduced me to all those lectures. Now, where was I? Ah yes. So, are you saying that the discharge of electricity blew these particles out of a region of space?”

  “Quite possible.” I said, “And that lattice we saw around us was perhaps the boundary of that hole.”

  I tried to think how much energy would be needed to create a hole the size of the cavern and gave up. The maths was beyond me. The Martians, who I suspected had built the Tesla coil, live in a four or perhaps five-dimensional world. They are thus able to exist a little in the future and the past as well as the present. This means they see us in a different way. I have written this before but it needs repeating. Imagine a film of yourself recorded on one of those old reel cameras. Then cut up each frame and place each frame on top of each other and glue them together so you have a stack or block of frames. If you carefully cut out of the block your image you will have an impression of how a Martian sees us. We would seem to be a blur stretching into the past and future. Now imagine if you could tap into the energy from the future and past. God knows what forces of nature they can control.

  Elizabeth was also thinking about it. “Do you think that within this hole the speed of light was not contained?”

  A word of warning to any scientist who while time-travelling picks up and marries an intelligent Victorian girl. If you keep reminding her that your scientific knowledge is far more advanced than hers she will quickly remind you how many black holes there are in your philosophy. I have seriously considered bringing her along to one of my lectures at college where I think she could give an excellent discourse on the ‘Unified Theory and Castles Built on Sand’. AND destroy one or two of the cockier students who are a constant thorn in my side in the process. But back to her question.

  “I think the question of speed is irrelevant. In such a hole, nothing would exist. The way those stars and galaxies moved it implied we did not exist either.”

  “But we were real. Weren’t we?”

  “Were we? Perhaps we were just caught in a vision created by the Martians.”

  “Oh, I see. I think....” She stopped and quickly looked around the room. “But where are Flory and the Wells?”

  “Perhaps they’ve legged it.”

  She grabbed my arm. “Or maybe they were destroyed or transported to another time or place!”

  “Let’s go with my idea first.”

  In the dim light, we scanned the room. Strange ghostly shapes began to appear by the walls which slowly took shape.

  “It’s the time control consoles!” I shouted. “What’s going on?”

  And then the Martian Tesla Coil began to appear.

  “I don’t like this.” I said pointing at the coil which was almost solid now. “If this thing starts up again God knows what will happen to us this time.”

  “I agree. We need to leave.”

  “Ok. Two options. First, play with those two globes and see where they take us or second, leave by that door.”

  “I think we need to know when we are first, James. Luckily we are in Victorian clothing so modesty will not be an issue.”

  I looked for the date and time dials but they weren’t there.

  I said, “You’re right. We need a reference point. I don’t think we humans like being out of time. We always need to know when we are.”

  “I cannot but agree. Even though we move through time there is always some comfort when we find WHEN we are.”

  “So that’s decided. We go outside and have a look. The only problem is,” scanning the room, “where’s the damn door?”

  There was no sign of it.

  “It must be over there.” She said, pointing at where I thought we’d come in.

  “Maybe it hasn’t materialised yet. Let’s try feeling the wall and see if we can find it.”

  A loud thwack sound came from behind us. Then another.

  “Jeeze! That machine’s starting up again!” I said.

  We frantically felt along the wall. There was another loud spark and this time the room flashed white.

  Real panic was gripping me now. Then Elizabeth shouted, “I have found it! It’s here. Look!”

  Her hand and arm had disappeared through the wall.

  “Come on, James! Hurry!” And as another lightning spark lit the room she vanish
ed.

  ----------------------

  Chapter Twelve

  E.

  I found myself in pitch black once more. What had I done? Was I in the tunnel? I carefully put my hands out. Fear washed over me as I wondered what I might meet. Then, thankfully, I felt a damp stone wall. I moved slowly along it but panicked when I realised I did not know which way I was going. Cold perspiration ran down my face. I could not think any more. And where was James? There is something about absolute darkness. It presses on you like an invisible force. I could feel my eyes frantically moving in the hope of catching a glimmer of light but finding none.

  After a while when my senses had returned or possibly left me completely, I do not know which, I decided to move back about three feet to where I thought I started and find the door by which I entered. Again, I tentatively put out my hands then, I swear I nearly died of fright because something warm and clammy brushed my hand and grasped it!

  A strangled voice yelled out, “Oh my God! What the...... Oh! It’s you, Elizabeth! Thank God! I thought I’d found a Martian or something worse! Come here.”

  I felt two arms envelop me and pull me roughly to him. His hot breath caressed my ear: “Are you ok?” then before I could reply he whispered, “Mmh! You smell nice and sweaty.”

  How he manages to turn things into an intimate compliment, I do not know.

  “James! Only horses sweat...” I protested.

  “Yeah, I know. Ladies glow. Well, you’re glowing quite a bit.”

  His comment did not deter me from clinging on to him. I replied, “And so are you. I nearly died when you touched me.”

  “Me too.”

  We held each other, until our breathing and heart beats had calmed enough to think. The blackness was becoming oppressive again.

  “Which way do you think we should go?” I said.

  “I’m not going back in there. Trouble is we’ve left everything behind.”

  Despair. Then I remembered.

  “Not everything, James. I still have my handbag.”