The Time Annihilator by Edgar A, Manley and Walter Thode
Page 1
Wonder Stories, November, 1930
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ARRY STENSON yawned as he conceptions. He was as practical a fellow as slumped into an overstaffed chair and
ever battled words in the criminal courts of the
L picked up a newspaper from the table city.
of his library. His appearance startled me. His
As for myself, I had been on newspapers in
face was ashen and black smudges, that told of
New York for ten years. This experience, I
sleepless nights, were under his pale blue can truthfully assert, made me walk close to eyes.
the ground, dubious of all things that could not
Bert Clay turned from the library be defined by rule of thumb or hard logic.
window and crossed the room toward Stenson.
Larry Stenson, our golf and bridge
“Are you going to have our little game of
companion for five years, was of the same age
bridge tonight, Larry?” he asked, lighting a
as Clay and me, in the early thirties. He was
cigarette.
regarded as one of the outstanding young men
“Not tonight, Bert, old man,” Stenson
of the science department of Columbia
replied, crumpling the newspaper impatiently
University. There was nothing pedantic about
and flinging the sheets into the fireplace: “Fact
Stenson; ordinarily his light sense of humor
is, I’m feeling, mighty rotten.”
cheered the more gloomy Clay and myself.
Clay glanced at me and his red-
But tonight Stenson sat brooding in his
thatched head moved almost imperceptibly.
chair, puffing nervously on his cigarette. After
His very thoughts seemed written on his an interminable silence he leaped to his feet freckled countenance. He was worried over
and walked toward Clay, placing his hand on
Stenson, fearing a nervous breakdown; almost
the lawyer’s shoulder. His wide generous
pitifully eager to lure the young scientist into a
mouth twitched apologetically. “I hope I
few hours’ relaxation at cards.
haven’t seemed grouchy tonight, fellows,” he
“Just one little game, Larry,” I muttered.
pleaded.
“Forget it, Larry,” I remarked. “Guess
The atmosphere of the library seemed
you’ve been trying to revolutionize science.”
surcharged with dread, a spectral presence that
Stenson smiled, rather bleakly.
could not be confined by time nor space. I
“What would you say if I told you I
often thought of that presentiment, in the days
had?” he queried.
that followed, when time was annihilated,
“Three cheers for our side!” chuckled
when the domed-headed men of Pei stalked on
Clay. “What have you solved now?”
their mission of destruction.
“The problem of time and space!”
That night we three were on the
“Lane, we’ve got a rising young
threshold of the most devastating adventure
Einstein in our midst,” said Clay, turning to
that mortal ever faced. Stenson, indeed, had
me. “See that he gets three columns on the
already passed through the curtain of the front page.”
future, crossing as casually into the future as
“And how! Let us in on the big secret,
one might walk from one room to another. We
Larry!”
were to learn of his time journey a little later,
We were all on our feet now, laughing rather
told in faltering words.
foolishly, I fancy. Clay was slapping Stenson
I suppose, recalling that night, that two
on the back, as if to drive away the gloom that
more prosaic men than Bert Clay and I were
possessed the man.
not to be found in New York City. Clay was a
Stenson’s face, etched against the
lawyer, cynically scornful of all fantastic light, shocked me. He seemed to have aged a
The Time Annihilator
3
score of years since we had seen him the night
flashing angrily.
before.
“Talking about me, eh? Listen, I know
“Don’t slap his back like that, you
you were. Cut it out. Think I’m batty, eh? I’ll
chump!” I cried to Clay, angrily. Then to
prove it. How would you both like a trip?”
Stenson: “For the love of Mike, what ails you,
“A trip?” I asked. “Where to—
man?”
Europe? I’m too broke!”
“The machine—the machine I
“No, not to Europe. The greatest trip
invented,” he remarked. “Maybe you’ll say
any man ever took. It got me—lack of sleep
I’m crazy, Lane, but I projected myself and worry for weeks past. I’ve solved it. I’ve hundreds of years into the future this annihilated time and it don’t mean anything!
morning!”
It’s like an accordion that can be folded or
Clay stared at me incredulously over
dragged out. There’s a unity to time that links
Stenson’s shoulder and I know my face must
the past, present and future. All our
have revealed baffled amazement. I was conceptions of time will go by the board!”
convinced Stenson was raving. “Larry, old
There was something fascinating about
man, sit down, please,” I begged. “You must
the flow of words that leaped from his lips and
have been under some tremendous strain. Tell
I marveled at the rapid transformation in the
us—”
man. He was an enthusiast, so immersed in his
“I have told you, you pair of blithering
strange fetish that all else was forgotten. He
fools! I can see by your silly face you think
soared at a bound to the heights.
I’ve lost my mind, Lane. I’ve been working on
“Listen, Lane, and you too, Bert! Did
this—for years. Secretly!”
you ever stop to think that if one lived on a
He sagged into his chair, burying his
planet whirling about the giant sun
face in his hands. Dry sobs shook his strong
Betelgeuse, and could stare through a
body and I winced and turned toward the
telescope at events upon this little earth of
windows. The lights of New York below ours, he would see the French Revolution gleamed like fireflies—mile after mile. I bit
being enacted? Light waves sweep the
my lower lip. There was something lashing in
universe. When we stare into the sky at night
hearing a man sob.
we really see light that has been speeding for
countless years across the ether toward us!”
“I WENT—hundreds of years!” he babbled
“We’re listening, Larry,” I remarked.
“Go on.”
world—gone!”
“I have followed out this theory, but in
Clay hurried toward me, leaving the
another sphere of thought. Existence is like a
crushed man alone.
mirror that reflects everything. Perhaps I can
“He ought to be sent to a hospital,” he
explain my idea more clearly by recalling the
muttered. “Poor ol’ Larry. I never thought—”
old adage that ‘Coming events cast their
“Shut up, he’ll hear you!”
shadows before.’ The future is already in
“What the dickens will we do?”
existence. Time is a river that flows endlessly
“He’s
been
overworked. I have noticed
back and forth, sweeping the universe in its
this coming on for weeks. I told him he tide!”
needed sleep. The poor devil’s been cutting
Stenson led us across the richly
down on sleep until his nerves are shot. Don’t
carpeted library toward his laboratory. He
irritate him!”
switched on a light and pointed with stubby
Stenson walked toward us, his eyes
forefinger at a group of electric generators in
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4
the corner. Coils of wires, repellent like cities merged crazily into each other in the slumbering reptiles, lay about the generators. I
glass. I rubbed my eyes, feeling I was
had never been in his laboratory before, bewitched.
despite my friendship with him. There were
“I guess I’m feeling the spell of the
depths of secrecy about the man, I perceived,
place, Larry. Say, what the devil—”
that no one had ever really plumbed.
“What you see are merely visual
Another door turned and I whistled in
survivals that have clung to the mirrors! Sort
astonishment. In this room was the strangest
of the same principle as retention of vision to
looking box I had ever gazed upon. Mounted
the retina of the eye when a light goes out.”
on wheels, the walls were of glass, so were the
“Now, you want to go to sleep and rest
floor and ceiling. A faint light pierced this box
up for a week straight, Larry,” counseled Clay
of mystery and I shivered involuntarily. Even
kindly.
the phlegmatic Clay was impressed, I noted,
“Can’t seem to knock off any rest. I
as I glanced into his heavy face. The ashen
just toss about in bed.”
whiteness had departed from Stenson’s
“I’ll go out to the drug store and get
countenance and a healthy flush returned some dope that’ll knock you for a goal,” I almost miraculously.
remarked. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”
“An odd room, eh, fellows?” Stenson
I hurried from the apartment and a
asked as he led us into the box. “Couldn’t you
minute later was speeding downward in the
easily imagine anything happening here?”
elevator, immersed in thought. I had known
“A swell place for a murder, I’ll say!”
Larry Stenson too long, and had too great an
snorted Clay.
admiration for his intelligence, to doubt that
“I’ll say it would be an ideal place for
he had made an astounding discovery.
a murder,” responded Larry Stenson. “There
Possibly he had stumbled on a widened
would be no corpus delicti to worry about.
television that could project the beholder
Once in this chamber, with the time about the world. I was convinced, however, annihilation machine grinding through the that he was entirely wrong about projection centuries, no detective on earth could solve
into the future. Nearly a week without sleep—
the problem!”
one could hardly call his few off minutes of
“You seemed on edge just a few rest such—had played queer pranks with moments ago, Larry,” I said. “Now you seem
Stenson. I was sure of it.
cheery as blazes. How come?”
I bought a sleeping potion at the drug
“Nerves gave out on me from lack of
store on the corner and pushed my way
rest, Lane. You’ve felt that way yourself, through the throngs on Madison avenue. It felt haven’t you? I guess that silly sobbing I’ve
good to be alive that warm, Summer night in
done cleared the atmosphere for me!”
the year 1945. I thought of the marvels
“What a little hermitage you’ve got
through which I had lived. Only two months
here!” exclaimed Clay peering into the before I had crossed the Atlantic on an air seemingly endless expanse of mirrors. As my
liner in 18 hours. The human voice spanned
eyes grew accustomed to the peculiar light I
the world now instantaneously. It was a world
followed Clay’s staring eyes.
at peace, a joyous, prosperous globe.
Again I was back in the apartment.
THERE was something weirdly unreal about
“Where’s the patient, Bert?” I demanded
the chamber. I seemed to look into illimitable
laughingly. “Where’s that sick scientist of
distances. Indistinct forms of creatures and
ours who just needs a few real hours sleep?”
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5
“Gone! Great Scott—he’s gone!”
voice and I tried to break down the door with
“Quit spoofing me, Bert. Try that on
a chair. I heard Larry shout out.”
your silly juries. Where is he?”
“What did he say?”
I stared at Bert Clay apprehensively.
“He cried, ‘Bert, for God’s sake
His jaw sagged and he tried vainly to light a
don’t!’ His voice seemed a million miles
cigarette. His hand trembled so violently the
away!”
match went out. He uttered an oath and flung
“And
then?”
the cigarette on the floor. I seized his arm
“The buzzing of the batteries stopped.
violently.
The door opened as easy as pie under my
“Where’s Larry gone to?”
hand. I stared into the box—then I entered.
Clay stared at me foolishly, his gray
‘Larry!’ I yelled. But there was no answer.”
eyes wavering. “Damned if I can figure it
“Holy Smoke! Where was he?”
out!” he said brokenly. “I left him in that
“Gone! I told you when you came in
accursed glass box for a few moments. He
he was gone!”
slammed the door. I got a glass of water and
then returned. There was a buzzing sound
from inside and I know he must have turned
CHAPTER II
the switch. I fought like a madman to open the
Plunged Into Time!
door, but I couldn’t budge it! I heard voices
inside! A bedlam of voices. I was crazy with
fear, old man, and I want you to know I’m not
I suppose my face must have appeared
a coward!”
extremely stupid. Certainly Clay
’s sagging
“Voices?”
lips would have aroused gales of laughter
“Yes, speaking in strange languages.
under ordinary circumstances. But neither of
Laughing, hyena voices. They sounded us felt in a mood to laugh. Horror clutched our inhuman. Then I thought I heard a voice rising
hearts. The curtain of time had parted,
higher than the rest. Sounded strangely like a
swallowing Larry Stenson in the vague mist of
Chink’s voice!”
eternity.
“Well, where did they come from?
“Let’s both look at that damned
There was no one else in the apartment after I
contrivance, Bert,” I cried. “This is
left.”
unbelievable. How could he have vanished
“No, they were in that accursed like that?”
cabinet. The buzzing sound kept up. For a
“I don’t know, old man—but he did.”
while I thought of smashing the batteries in
Clay nodded bleakly and rubbed his
the corner of the other room—the outer part of
chin in agitation. “He was such a prince of a
the laboratory.”
fellow,” he muttered. “Could he have gone
“Damned good thing you didn’t or through the walls?”
you’d have probably marooned him
We were at the open door of the time
somewhere about the year 2,500!”
chamber now, staring into the half dark recess
I marveled that I could have spoken so
like frightened children. The laboratory lights
about the unwritten future—or was it really
outside illuminated a sector of this strange