In the Cards

by Alan Cogan

  Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  In the Cards

  By ALAN COGAN

  Illustrated by EMSH

  [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science FictionJune 1956. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.copyright on this publication was renewed.]

  [Sidenote: It is one thing to safeguard the future ... and somethingelse entirely to see someone you love cry in terror two years from now!]

  The first thing I did when I bought my Grundy Projector was take a tripto about two years ahead and see what was going to happen to me.Everyone was doing it around that time; students were taking short tripsinto the future to learn whether or not they would pass their exams,married couples were looking ahead to see how many kids they were goingto have, businessmen were going into the future to size up theirprospects.

  I took the trip because I was getting married and I couldn't resist thetemptation of finding out how things would work out with my fianceeMarge and myself. Not that I had any doubts about Marge, but the GrundyProjectors were guaranteed harmless and there's no point in takingchances with a serious step like marriage.

  Everybody was looking ahead then. Within a week after the GrundyProjectors were introduced, you could walk past homes every evening andsee people with those shimmering bird-cages around them. Their bodieswere there, but heaven knows when their minds were--months and ofteneven years ahead of time.

  I knew exactly when to go on my first time trip. I even knew where: I'dalready put a down payment on a home in the new dome housing area whereMarge and I would be living after the wedding. Knowing where to go on atime trip is important. On this one, for instance, I hadn't beenassigned an address yet and there were all sorts of changes in theplace--buildings and streets where there had only been empty lots andsections marked off by string--and I just had to hunt until I came toour home.

  You can imagine how much more difficult finding my future self would beif I hadn't known the exact location. That's about the only majordrawback to making time trips and I don't see how it can be overcome.Directories would be one answer, but how would you go about putting themtogether if your crews can't ask questions or touch filing cards or evenopen future visiphone books?

  * * * * *

  Eventually, after setting the dial around the two-year mark, which isabout the maximum limit on most models, I found myself in my future homein the dome housing area. I was watching myself as I would be and Margeas she would be. Only I didn't like what I saw.

  We were fighting and screaming at each other. You could tell at a glancethat we hated each other. And after only two years!

  I was completely stunned as I watched that scene. Future Marge lookedfurious; she had the kind of look I never even suspected she could geton her face. But I think I was more enraged at my future self than ather. At the time, I was seriously in love with Marge--although it seemedevident it wasn't going to last--and I loathed myself for acting thatway toward her. And after all those rash promises I had been making,too!

  I was really a tangled mess of emotions as I watched our future selvesbattling it out.

  I became conscious of not being alone as I watched. It didn't take longto discover that it was Marge who had come to join me. I should haveexpected her--she must have been just as curious about her marriage as Iwas and, like myself, would naturally take her Projector to the two-yearlimit. Of course we couldn't hold hands the way we would have if ourbodies had been there, but then we probably wouldn't have held themlong. We were both pretty embarrassed by what we saw.

  The cause of the fight was very obscure, and though we saw and heardeverything perfectly, we still didn't really understand. However, theemotions expressed were plain enough.

  "You aren't going to die, Marge," my future self was yelling at her."Try and get that through your damned thick stupid skull!"

  "I am! I am!" she was screaming back at me. "You know I'm going to die.You want to get rid of me. Our marriage has been one long fight from thestart."

  "Don't talk such damned rot," my future self hollered back at her."There's probably a perfectly good explanation for it all and you're tooignorant to see it!"

  "The only explanation is that I'm going to die," future Marge insisted.She broke down, sobbing into an already saturated handkerchief.

  My future self stamped around the room, cursing and furiously kickingthe furniture. "Why don't you find out for sure? Why don't you go incloser and find out the real reason?"

  She sobbed even louder. "I daren't! You do it for me. Go find out foryourself and then tell me."

  That seemed to make my future self even madder. "You know I wouldn'ttouch one of those things even to save my life. I mean it, too! Besides,if you do die, it'll be your own fault. You'll have _believed_ yourselfto death! You think you're going to die and now you won't be happy untilyou _are_ dead."

  Future Marge began to sob hysterically and _my_ Marge, who had beenright beside me, suddenly seemed to grow a little more remote.

  Then a strange thing happened. My future self stopped pacing up and downthe room and turned to look straight at me with the queerest expressionon his face. That was enough for me. I got out of there fast and flippedback to the peace and security of 2017.

  * * * * *

  I climbed out of my Grundy Projector, glad to be back in the relativecalm of my body, although it still took me a long time to get settleddown. I felt like smashing the Projector there and then, and I guess Ishould have done it.

  The problem that had me all tied in knots was whether or not I should goahead and marry Marge after what I had seen. I know it looked as thoughI was going to marry her anyway, but in my innocence I figured I couldbeat that.

  I soon realized I was going to get nowhere sitting all by myself in myroom, so I went over to Marge's place. She was waiting for me, swingingquietly to and fro on the hammock on the dark patio. Normally I wouldhave sat right down beside her, but this time I just stood backsheepishly and waited.

  Neither of us said anything for a while and I just watched as thehammock floated in the faint bluish light from some nearby lamps. Margeseemed to shine almost angelically as the glow caught her dark eyes andher softly tanned arms and legs.

  * * * * *

  I could have whipped myself for treating her the way I had seen myselftreating her in the future. It must have been a mistake. There had to bea mistake somewhere. I couldn't have made myself do anything to hurther.

  Her voice was husky and scared when she spoke. "Do you think it'llhappen the way we saw it, Gerry?" she asked.

  "I don't know," I said. "They say that whatever you see always turns outto be the thing that happens."

  "Do you think we'll fight like that when--if we're married?"

  It was on the end of my tongue to talk common sense and logic to her,but then I realized that neither of us wanted to hear anything likethat. We were in love and we didn't want to hear anything thatconflicted with our emotions.

  Marge sat up in the hammock and made room for me to sit down beside her.

  "I just don't see how it could happen to us," I said. "I don't see howwe could fight like that. There must have been some mistake. Maybe welooked in on the wrong people."

  Neither of us added anything to that. We both knew we weren't going tochange so much that we couldn't recognize ourselves two years later.

  "Maybe it was some sort of alternative world we saw," I suggested,eagerly clutching at any straw, "showing us what _could_ happen if wedidn't work hard at our marriage. It could have been a sort of warni
ngof what could happen to some people. But not us, of course!"

  Marge's lonely little hand crept into mine for comfort and I began towarm up to the subject.

  "Don't you worry about it," I assured her. "What would we ever find toquarrel about?"

  The idea seemed so preposterous, we both began to laugh.

  "I couldn't fight with you, Gerry," Marge said, snuggling closer.

  "Me, neither," I said. "Don't worry about what we saw. The scientificboys will probably have a rational explanation worked out for the wholething. I'll bet it's happened to lots of people."

  Somehow, while we were talking, we had managed to get very closetogether in the hammock. Marge and I could never talk far apart forlong.

  "I