The Space Between Time

by Bruce Macfarlane

  I felt Elizabeth’s hand grasp my arm.

  “But why do we need to change the frequency?” said Elizabeth.

  We both looked at her. “Carry on.” I said.

  “Surely the electrical ‘noise’ generated by this infernal machine would just drown out the signal sent from Mars.”

  “Only it if were at the same frequency as the carrier wave that brought the Martian signal.” I said.

  “But it is!” exclaimed Tesla, his eyes lighting up.

  “How do you know?” I said. “It could be any frequency.”

  “The apparatus must be generating at the right frequency already,” said Tesla, “for Mr Wells picked up the Martian signal from it. It will interfere with the signal. We must turn it on!”

  It seemed to make sense. Wells could only have picked it up if it was modulating or amplifying the frequency of the Tesla coil.

  However, before I could say anything, Tesla rushed over to the console and pulled the lever.

  Within a minute sparks were flying and I smelt ozone.

  “There. We have done it!” said Tesla.

  “Maybe,” I said grudgingly, carefully watching the streams of plasma form and play around the cavern. “However, as we have already picked up the signal, how do we know the Martians haven’t also received it already and woken up?”

  As if in answer, the walls of the cavern suddenly dissolved and we found ourselves gazing into a much larger cavern within which, stretching as far as we could see, were rows of sleek green Martian tripod machines.

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  Chapter Twenty-One

  E.

  To reach a consensus without questioning closely the logic by which it is derived, often results, I have found, in argument if not recrimination. Such a discussion took place shortly after the appearance of the Martian machines on the subject of who had agreed to switch on the machine. This lasted a number of minutes, punctuated by bolts of lightning flying across our heads until I decided, for everyone’s safety, that we were all to blame for pulling the lever.

  “Thank you,” said James. “Now I’m going to turn this damn thing off because I can’t cope with lightning bolts and Martians at the same time.”

  But as he approached the console a great streak of lightning shot from Mr Tesla’s apparatus and went through the wall into the cavern where it struck the nearest tripod. The great long arc of light danced between it and the apparatus. I could not comprehend what current passed along its length but its effect soon became apparent for suddenly another streak of lightning leapt from that Tripod to another!

  Blue rivers of light flowed over the two tripods bathing them in an iridescent glow. Then the plasma leapt to a third tripod. Then another and another until across the cavern dozens of tripods were joined in strings of blue lightning.

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  J.

  If the Martians were asleep when we turned on Tesla’s oscillator, they were definitely awake now for here and there tripods began to move and extend their legs. Half a dozen or so began to rise into the air, but each was caught by fingers of plasma from others on the ground. One by one they glowed and then fell to the ground and landed in crumpled heaps. After a few minutes the cavern was littered with smouldering and jerking tripods. Then I noticed one near us rise up on its three legs and begin to walk away from the others to escape the plasma. As it did I saw long tubes extend from its bulbous head. It turned towards the nearest tripods and fired red beams of light from the tubes. As the beam hit one it crumpled to the floor, its head exploding. The firing tripod seemed to have decided that it could avoid Tesla’s plasma by destroying the nearest tripods. Unfortunately, others seeing this began to fire back in defence. Within seconds there was a chain reaction as just about every Martian tripod decided that every other one was a threat. It was like watching some mad movie of a robot army which had suddenly decided to exterminate itself.

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  E.

  For a while I was transfixed by this appalling scene of self-destruction until I was brought back to reality by a piece of shrapnel from an exploded tripod landing still smoking at our feet. Without any discussion on whether to stay or leave we ran for the door and the shelter of the tunnel.

  But it was not there! The door had disappeared!

  We ran around the walls desperately pressing the surfaces in the hope of finding it while lightning bolts flew about us and the Martians continued their suicidal battle. But to no avail. I ran my fingers through my dishevelled hair and felt and heard sparks of electricity. Then the lights went out and once again we saw ourselves jerkily in the light from the lightning jets as if in a moving picture.

  James was the first to speak. “Look, the Earth and Mars globes! They’re glowing! They must be getting power from the console as well. We can use them to escape!”

  I immediately realised what he meant. We knew, from previous experience, that by moving the metal pointers on the globes we could travel across the planets. We did not understand how they worked but in certain circumstances, the time cavern could be controlled to not only move through time but also space as well.

  We went to the Earth globe and found, as expected, the brass pointer over Midhurst.

  “If this is working we can just move the pointer and escape this inferno.”

  “But what about the bolts of lightning? We cannot stay here!” I said.

  “I’ll turn off Tesla’s machine.”

  He went over to the console. But just as he reached for the lever I shouted, “No! James! It might remove the power from the globes and we will be stuck here! And we will be sucked into the Martian fight!”

  His hand hesitated. Then turning to me with a look of despair, he said, “Damn! You’re right! It’s Hobson’s choice. Fried by Tesla’s plasma or toasted by those Martian flame throwers.”

  One glance at the madness beyond the walls convinced me to trust our luck to the first option.

  “So where shall we go?” I said.

  “Anywhere but here.”

  And he moved the pointer.

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  J.

  I didn’t expect anything to happen when I pushed the pointer but to my relief, we and our cavern immediately rose upwards as if we were in a lift.

  We slowly left the battle below. As I looked down it was carnage. Outside the ground was littered with broken, smouldering tripods. Here and there survivors fought each other. Them the scene vanished as we went through the roof. Layers of white rock, sediment and sand passed by us until we shot into the air leaving the ruined castle behind. However, the sense of relief was brief for across the Downs dozens of tripods were rising up out of the ground.

  “We are too late, they have already started their invasion!” shouted Elizabeth.

  Blue and red beams of light shot from them accompanied by explosions. But I could see nothing fighting back. It took a few moments before I realised that they were attacking each other. I watched fascinated as the machines rose, exploded and fell.

  “We must have started this. They seem to be on sort of automatic. When they started shooting each other to protect themselves from the plasma it must have triggered a defence mechanism.”

  “Perhaps they are not very bright,” said Elizabeth.

  “Perhaps being buried in the ground for hundreds of years they were just programmed to attack and shoot anything that attacked them,” I said.

  “Look! There are no more rising from the ground.”

  I gazed across the landscape. Sure enough there was now only a few tripods left chasing each other across the countryside.

  “I reckon they’ll all be finished in a few minutes.”

  A plasma bolt shot between Tesla and me with a resounding thwack as it hit a metal frame above the power console just about scaring us out our wits.

  Elizabeth shouted, “We have to turn it off, James, before we are electrocuted!”

  “But we might fall back to Earth.” I said.r />
  “I will take my chances.”

  And before I could stop her, she ran over to the power supply console and pulled the lever.

  There was one more crack of lightning which hit the power console - and just missed her - and then there was silence. Slowly the light which illuminated the cavern returned.

  We stopped, hovering about a mile above the ground. I held my breath waiting to fall back to Earth but it did not. Instead, around us, outside the cavern, a gigantic circular structure began to materialise.

  “What’s that?” said Tesla.

  The structure became solid. It was like a golden bronze wheel with its spokes stretching out from the walls of our cavern.

  “My God! We are seeing the whole structure of the Time cavern! It must be over five hundred feet in diameter. Turning off the machine must have somehow removed the field that hid it. We must be seeing the whole time machine.”

  I’d often wondered what was powering the cavern. Now we could see it. Though how it worked I hadn’t a clue. The only problem was, the Martians could see it as well for immediately three of the half dozen remaining tripods turned in our direction and started firing at us!

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  E.

  Only a few moments before we had almost concluded that we had defeated the Martians. Now due to my stupidity we had revealed ourselves and had become the centre of their attention. Worse: the great machine which held us and powered, or controlled, the time cavern was being destroyed by the Martians for where their beams hit it the structure, pieces were breaking off and falling back to Earth.

  There was only one thing to do. I had to undo my error. I ran to the power console and pulled the lever again. I heard a reassuring hum and Mr Tesla’s apparatus began to emit sparks again.

  However, outside, the Martians were coming closer and the other three had joined in. More pieces of the great wheel broke away in the hail of fire. One of the spokes holding us cracked. We felt a judder then another. Green lights flashed on the console. Then I noticed the time clocks. They were oscillating back and forth through 1895.

  I grabbed James arm and drew his attention to it.

  James said, “The Martians must have caused some instability in time! God, when or where are we going to end up?”

  Mr Tesla said, “It seems to be hunting for some date or time. The fluctuations are getting smaller.”

  He was right. As we watched it the oscillations narrowed until it only showed March. Then it hovered around 13th March. Finally, the hours, minutes and seconds reduced to zero and stopped there.

  The walls of the cavern turned jet black and the great structure disappeared. The walls were so black it was almost impossible to focus on them. It reminded me of an art gallery James took me to, to see a simple painting of a black square. I am not a fan of ‘modern art’, as he calls it, and nor is he, but on this occasion, he wished to see a particular phenomenon. He told me the artist had used a special paint which absorbed all light. At first, on regarding the painting it did indeed look like the artist had just painted a black square and at first I thought the public had been subjected to a confidence trick but no matter what light or illumination was shone upon it, nothing was reflected! The eye couldn’t focus on anything and you felt you were staring into nothingness. The walls before us were like that.

  Suddenly Mr Tesla shouted: “We must get away!” and grabbing the Mars sphere moved the pointer but nothing happened. He turned to us.

  “Were we actually travelling, Mr Urquhart, or was the vision we saw like a motion picture?” he asked quite calmly as though observing an experiment.

  James said, “We think we were moving. Though how I don’t know. However, I’m not convinced the time cavern normally moves. I think it throws some form of projection.”

  “Are you saying that this place extrudes through space and time and we are carried with it?” said Tesla.

  “I think it somehow manages to go outside time.”

  “Are we travelling just through space? Impossible!”

  “That’s what light does.” James said.

  “Forgive me but I think your reason is affected. Light travels at a certain speed. It is proven that light takes time to travel somewhere.”

  “Nope,” said James, “The faster you travel, time slows down and at the speed of light, time reduces to zero.”

  “Time changes? Poppycock! Time is fixed.”

  “Is it? How long does it take you to get from London to New York?”

  “About two weeks.”

  “And how do you measure that?”

  “With a clock or I count the number of days or nights.”

  “And how do you know how fast the clock moves, or how long the days and nights are?”

  “It is self-evident.”

  “To an ordinary man, it is self-evident that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. To the same man the sun goes around the Earth, but you know it is caused by the Earth spinning on its axis.”

  “But that is proved by observation.”

  “And it is proved by observation that we and time and everything else travels at the speed of light.”

  Although this subject of space and time is always fascinating, I felt this was not the time for its discussion. In fact, I confess, I wished to box their ears and bring them back to the reality before us.

  I interjected. “May we return to the problem in hand? We are lost in a void with no vision of our surrounds and stuck in a particular time. What shall we do?”

  They both looked at me, then at each other. Mr Tesla was the first to speak.

  “Who built this device?”

  “I’m not sure,” said James, regarding me with a smile indicating that he thanked me for pulling him out of a corner. “However, I do know that the Martians seem to be able to occupy five or more dimensions. Somehow, this cavern, ship or observatory, call it what you will, can travel outside, or around our four-dimensional space-time. It is possible.”

  “Do you mean the time cavern is no longer in Midhurst?” I said.

  “Yes. We, or the Martians, have caused such a disturbance that the whole thing, whatever it is, has now left Earth.”

  “Then how do we get home?”

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  J.

  The three of us were now staring at a black wall with Tesla’s machine standing silent and the two globes which had somehow re-materialised. The time clocks registered midnight on 13th March 1895. My first conclusion was that our time machine was broken and we were stranded outside time and space for ever. Even worse, I was feeling hungry.

  None of these facts helped me think what to do next and this is why you should always have an enquiring, intelligent Victorian wife with you when confronted with a situation like this.

  She was holding what looked like a triangular piece of brass. It was about a foot long.

  “What’s that from?” I said.

  “It is the piece of debris that came through the wall when the Martians attacked. I thought if this could come through then perhaps there is a hole through which we might pass.”

  She handed it to me. “Do you know from what it is made?”

  It looked like brass but was very light and felt like a plastic. It was also warm to the touch. The surface was smooth but when I looked closely I couldn’t see my reflection. It was reflecting light but not in the normal way.

  I passed it to Tesla who turned it over in his hands a number of times before biting it.

  “Interesting there is no mark. It feels soft but hard at the same time. It is not of any material I have come across.” He handed it back to me.

  “Well I don’t know what it’s made of either,” I said, “but I think I’ll keep hold of it. Perhaps Wells can help.”

  “Do you think we should find the hole this object made?”

  “It may not have made a hole. It might have just passed through like a stone through liquid.” I said.

  “Then there is only one way to fin
d out.” said Elizabeth and she walked to the wall in the general direction from which the object had come. We followed.

  After about five minutes of carefully prodding the wall with no effect, I suddenly thought that the piece of shrapnel might help.

  I said, “I’m going to see if I can push this triangle through the wall. Perhaps it has special properties that allow it to pass through.”

  I pressed it against the wall and it slid through like a hot knife through butter.

  I pulled it out quickly. I couldn’t see any hole. Them I had an idea.

  “I’m going to try and make a small hole with it to try and push something through.”

  I cut about a foot square and taking off my hat, pressed it against the place where I’d made the incision. To my surprise, not to say fright, the hat and my hand went through the wall. I immediately pulled my hand out, letting go of the hat.

  My hand felt alright and I hadn’t felt a thing.

  “So, it seems, Mr Urquhart,” said Tesla, “if we make a hole big enough we can escape.”

  “But where to? And is there a breathable atmosphere?”

  Elizabeth grabbed my hand and examined it. “There are no lesions, James. Maybe we will be safe.”

  “I suppose I could poke my head in.”

  Their expressions indicated that this would be an excellent idea. So, I enlarged the hole, which I couldn’t see, held my breath, closed my eyes and pushed my face into where I thought I’d cut the hole.

  Nothing. I pulled out my head.

  “What’s there?” said Tesla.

  “Couldn’t see a thing. There must be something there. The plasma got out and that piece of shrapnel got in. I’m going to make a larger cut.”

  “I hope the air does not escape,” said Elizabeth.

  A bead of sweat formed on my head, not least because if the air was going to escape I had no idea how to plug the hole again. However, the absence of any draught or wind suggested that whatever was on the other side was at the same pressure as the cavern.