unwritten? Now I know that the future was a
room of illusions, cutting a path of flame into
book, a tremendous volume, written indelibly
the stygian darkness.
from the Morning of Creation.
“The room holds the future,” I said in
“He was in there—I could hear his
an awed whisper.
Wonder Stories
6
Clay, growling angrily, shoved me enthralled in a nightmare from which I would aside and stumbled into the time chamber. I
presently awake, trembling with weariness.
walked into the box at his heels, panting in
“Here are a bunch of dials,” remarked
agitation. I was in a blue funk of fear, which
Clay, rousing me from my reverie. “I’m
my face undoubtedly revealed. Hesitatingly I
getting the creeps in this place, Lane.”
made my way to the walls and placed my
I studied the dials in the tiny container
hands on the glass, seeking vainly for some
as I stared over his broad shoulders. Minute
hidden recess into which Stenson could have
markings, numerals that stood for almost
vanished.
endless years, were engraved on the dial. The
Blurred faces peered mockingly at indicator pointed to the year 1945. I studied me—or so I fancied. They were long faces,
the dial and perceived that a scratch had been
with narrowed eyes and distorted bodies—but
made at 2250, as if intentionally by some
human in their general appearance. And yet
sharp instrument. I pointed out the scratch to
there was something hellishly inhuman about
Clay.
them that baffled me. The glass gave way
The unknown spread before us,
beneath my hands as if I were pressing into
enticing in its very terror; the future beckoned
soft rubber. The sound of far-off voices us with the bony fingers of Death. I slammed whispered in my ears.
the door as Clay pressed on the indicator. We
“Bert—this glass. It doesn’t seem to
were off into time and space.
have any end!”
A faint humming sound, strangely like
“No, I noticed that, Lane. Damned if it
that of a swarm of honey bees, filled the time
doesn’t seem bewitched.”
chamber and we felt ourselves hurled into
I walked a step closer until my body
space with inconceivable violence. A
pressed against the mirrors. Clay shouted succession of scenes, fleeting as those of warningly. “Don’t do that, Lane. You’ll go
dreams, and myriad voices projected
right through.”
themselves into our consciousness. I laid my
“What kind of glass is this made of?” I
hand on Clay’s arm, seeking the reassurance
demanded.
of his very presence.
“You got me, Lane. This is the oddest
The mirror walls of the time vehicle
place I’ve ever been in since I was born.”
seemed to melt away as did the glass floor.
“There is only one thing left for us to
Only the indicator, with its numerals spelling
do. We must start after poor Stenson. I hope it
away the cycle of years, possessed reality for
isn’t too late to save him.”
us. We moved at tremendous speed into the
“I’m afraid he’s dead now.”
future; and yet the sense of time seemed
We glanced about the room of glass,
extremely vague. Time seemed to vanish into
with its hint of distances beyond human nothingness, leaving only the mad sensation of concept. The chamber could not have been
rushing, rushing breathlessly into we knew not
more than five feet square; and yet the illusion
what.
of space, as illimitable as the universe of a
We stared into eternity with
billion suns, encompassed us in everlasting
bewilderment as we moved through many
arms. I seemed suspended in space, living
lands and eras. We mingled for fragments of
through the births and lives and deaths of all
time in the midst of multitudes abiding in
human beings. There was a cosmic depth to
towering cities; again we were out in the ether
the time machine that seemed to touch every
of space—at least so it seemed. The time
conceivable dimension. I wondered if I were
journey seemingly described a great arc, a
The Time Annihilator
7
mysterious parabolic curve that to my mind
floated overhead and music floated on the
has remained the very essence of the linking
breeze.
of past, present and future into a perfect unity.
Clay and I found ourselves floating a
trifle above the ground after a brief period of
TIME was condensed into a microcosm in the
walking through the multitudes. Either the
chamber. I hesitate now to call the strange
indicator had halted, leaving us at rest in a city
vehicle by such a name. Surely it could not be
that must have been the home of many
described in all its attributes by such a word.
millions, or time had for a period stretched to
As we wandered through streets of the cities
gigantic dimensions for us. The buildings
yet to come we were part of the passing towered two thousand feet high.
throngs. And yet while we saw them, they
Again I stared at the indicator and
were utterly oblivious of our presence. The
found it climbing. We were hurried through
walls of the time machine were penetrated by
time, the scene fading from our eyes. The
these human beings, changeless in type from
journey reminded me of a motion picture
those living today but strangely garbed in projected on a screen at such tremendous flowing robes. Their passing bodies touched
speed that everything turned into a blue blur.
those of Clay and me, but were less dense than
“How in the dickens can I stop this
the faintest vapor. All was unreal but Clay and
machine?” asked Clay testily.
me. Clay stared at the indicator that was
The problem was a baffling one. A
carrying us resistlessly into the future.
series of little ivory handles, the uses of which
“Don’t let that dial out of your sight,”
were utterly unknown to us, hung on the
he said. “If you do, you’re going to be indicator box. There was more than a faint stranded hundreds of years beyond your time.”
possibility that if we touched the wrong
“Or
thousands.”
handle we faced annihilation. We passed the
“That’s what happened I believe to
year 2250—marked by the momentous
Stenson.”
scratch—with swirling rapidity. I scratched
I pointed to the scratch on the indicator
my head in bewilderment.
board at the year 2250. “I wonder if that was
“She’s rising away up in the twenty-
made by Stenson? Perhaps it was put there in
hundreds now, Clay,” I remarke
d. “We better
the hope we would see it and trace him.”
put a halt to this trip.”
“But how did the time machine return?
Utter terror clutched my heart as I
It’s funny that it could do it of its own stared at the rising indicator. The accord.”
consequences of our time journey were
“Yes, but this is the strangest machine
impressed with appalling force on my brain.
I believe the world has ever seen. Neither you
Clay was ashen-faced. His hands moved with
nor I, Clay, know anything about it.”
uncertainty along the row of handles.
The mounting time dial pointed to the
“I’m going to see what happens,” said
year 2132. We found ourselves in a great
Clay touching one of the handles.
boulevard with the indicator floating before
He pressed down on the knob and the
our eyes. Tropical trees rose before the white
time machine fluttered as if swept by a gale.
buildings and the holiday crowds—for such
We were shaken violently against the invisible
they seemed—passed laughingly about us. walls. The indicator came to a sharp halt, They were attired in robes of the gayest hues.
pointing to the number 2418. A feeling of
I envied them their carefree life. Their cheeks
incredulity swept me. “Does that mean we’re
blossomed with glowing health. Great airships
actually in the year 2418—or are we victims
Wonder Stories
8
of a hoax?” I demanded.
to go—”
“We’re in 2418 or dreaming
We approached the low-lying
nightmares.”
structures, which seemed to hint at ravaged
centuries, and old memories flooded my mind.
WE were in a desert, a vast plain of shifting
Two memorable and oft-recalled years of my
sand. A group of buildings, crumbling ruins,
youth had been spent in Tibet with a scientific
lay half-buried a few hundred yards before us.
expedition sent out by the American Museum
Silence shrouded us and I saw Clay clutch his
of Natural History. I represented a newspaper
throat in a gesture of despair. Stouthearted
syndicate on that golden venture, reporting the
Bert Clay was a man of vaunting courage, but
finding of dinosaur skeletons and their
the bleak misery of our situation preyed on his
stupendous eggs. The structures in the sand
mind now. Indeed, while I attempted to cheer
resembled nothing so much on earth as the
him, I could not help but reflect on the temples of lamas who dominated the problems that confronted us. How were we
forbidding inner country of Asia in 1930.
ever to return to our own time?
I wondered as I stared out at the ruined
The glass door floated before us, and
structures, how we had come to find ourselves
the miracle chamber walls, but the laboratory
in the heart of Asia. The buildings covered a
had vanished into the vacuum of eternity. surprising ground area, at least ten acres, and Save for the illusory walls, we were castaways
were of mud-brick construction. Their pagoda
in a trackless wilderness of sand.
towers were in various stages of collapse. I
“We’re done for, Bert, if we ever lose
stopped the machine by pulling the stick back.
track of that dial,” I warned.
“Hey, anybody around?” Clay shouted,
“I’m afraid we’re done for anyway.”
opening the door.
“Keep a stiff upper lip.”
Only the hot wind of the desert
He smiled. Good old Bert Clay. I knew
answered him—a mocking echo. We closed
as I watched the smile sweep his rugged face
the door and again moved on, shading our
that I could not have found a finer or truer
eyes with cupped hands against the blinding
companion for such an adventure. “Take a
sunlight. Apparently the region about the
look, Lane, I’m grinning like a Cheshire cat.”
lamasary was deserted. I pondered on the ruin
I was now examining a few other dials
that desolated the landscape. Probably
and levers in the mysterious room. One struck
hundreds of years had passed since the prayers
me as being similar to the “stick” of a 1930
of lama monks rose to heaven from these
airplane.
ancient walls.
“What’s this?” I asked.
My thoughts wandered as I struggled
Clay shook his head. “I dunno.”
to patch together the events that had taken
“Well, we can’t lose much by finding
place since our talk with Larry Stenson that
out,” I said philosophically, and suiting action
night. The amazing series of catastrophes and
to words, I shoved the stick forward. jagged events pierced my brain. I speculated Immediately the glass box began to roll on the possible fate that had befallen Stenson forward on its wheels, with us comfortably
and how it came about that he had lost control
within.
of the indicator that annihilated time so
Clay sprang forward and looked out
marvelously.
incredulously. “We’re moving!”
Cold fear bore down upon me as I
“Certainly,” I exclaimed beaming. realized that possibly a like fate awaited Clay
“This is a time-o-mobile. Where do you want
and me. We might be marooned in the far
The Time Annihilator
9
future, unable ever to return to our own time
were, in 1945, to the sight of Zeppelins and
and generation. Beads of sweat stood out on
other huge aircraft, we could not restrain
my forehead.
exclamations of astonishment. The
Time swirled about us like a cyclone, a
tremendous bulk darted toward the desert
black cloud tearing violently across the sand, slowing its speed and settling without a horizon of humanity, sweeping all before its
jar a few hundred yards away.
horrible path. Time was all powerful and weak
“Well I’ll be hanged!” exclaimed Clay.
as a baby. Time exterminated all and was in
“What was that?”
turn swallowed and eaten in the teeth of a
“It looks like a great building. Must be
dragon. Madly fantastic thoughts clawed made of mighty light material.”
through my overwhelmed mind. I pictured
“It’s a palace of some sort. Look at the
Clay and myself suspended in a void of walls how they gleam in the sunlight. They eternity, hanging on capricious winds between
seem to be covered with gems.”
heaven and earth like the tomb of Mohammed.
A gate of the sky palace opened and
We were petty creatures in a dream world of
three beings emerged. They were much larger
misty unreality.
than the human species, with monstrous heads
“Suppose I try and turn the dial back
and long arms that reached to their knees. We
again?” said Clay.
fled in our mach
ine across the desert lashed by
“No, I’m afraid we’ll jam the works.
terror. The three gigantic beings, however,
We’ve had marvelous luck so far.”
quite evidently failed to perceive us. We were
“You call it luck?”
evidently invisible to them.
‘Well, we haven’t been exterminated
“Funny they don’t chase us,” panted
so far. The machine is the most devilish Clay.
contrivance ever devised. Let us study it a
“We’d be in a tough way if they did. They
while before taking any other moves.”
must be at least nine feet tall. Can’t you see,
“Just as you say. But I’m afraid we’re
Bert, we’re invisible men to them? We don’t
going to starve to death in this desert.”
really exist to them at all while we’re in our
“And we haven’t eaten—for thousands
machine.”
of years.”
“In other words we’re just like
“Yes, but we lived through these years
spirits?”
almost instantaneously. At least I can’t figure
“That’s it exactly. We really have no existence
out how long the lapse was.”
to people living in the year 2418. Don’t you
“Let’s quit philosophizing.”
remember how we mixed with crowds in the
cities we passed through? They didn’t see us
either.”
CHAPTER III
“And these men can’t see us, unless
A Strange Conversation
we get out of our machine. Mighty strange
situation.”