Posts tagged ‘science fiction’
THE SUPERIOR SPECIES: PART I 30,000 YEARS IN THE PAST
This is an unpublished story.
THE SUPERIOR SPECIES
30,000 YEARS IN THE PAST
The two men sat atop a snow-covered mountain looking down on a land that would one day become Switzerland. Their prominent brows and wide noses marked them as a distinct species, one of two inhabiting this land. The other was an aggressive tribe that they watched. That they feared. With their high nasal voices, the two communicated their feelings to each other, the love for the land that lay before them.
They did not see the band of ten savages obscured by the falling snow approach the hill on which they sat. They appreciated the beauty that surrounded them. The area was covered in a thick blanket of snow, and they were sure that there would be more to come. Recently, the period of snow and ice had been extreme. The lithe figures approached, preparing to attack. With spears held high, the savages crept up on the pair. As one of the muscular men talked to his companion, a spear pierced his breast. His companion rose and was himself impaled by a spear. The savages celebrated their kill in a most gruesome fashion.
PRDICTIONS IN SCIENCE FICTION
PREDICTIONS IN SCIENCE FICTION
It is a well-known fact that writers of science fiction have been known to predict the future. In the story which will follow is a series of posts, in which I predict the past.
Two famous writers of science fiction have shown foresight in predicting the future in their work, Issac Asimov, and Arthur C. Clarke.
Asimov, in his work, saw the move from incandescent bulbs to fluorescent bulbs and on to LED bulbs. Also, the introduction of robots in his work is well-known.
Arthur C. Clarke had a host of predictions of the future in his work. In the world of computers, he predicted the Yk2 scare in the 1990 novel The Ghost from the Grand Banks.
In Clarke’s 1972 novel Rendezvous with Rama, astronomers were involved in a defense system against asteroid collisions with Earth, detected an alien spaceship. The world is now concerned with a collision with an asteroid and the U.S. has already sent a spacecraft on a successful mission to nudge an asteroid and changed its path.
Clarke also predicted the various uses of satellites. He saw groups of satellites being used for data transmission, phone calls and TV transmissions.
This article is a preamble for my short story, The Superior Species. In this story, through cloning, neanderthals are produced with surprising results. I first submitted this story on July 21, 2006. Since then, the view of neanderthals as brutes has been changing.
It’s been found that neanderthals buried their dead, made jewelry, and manufactured tools. And may have been able to speak.
What really caught my attention was the cover of The New York Times Magazine section published on January 15, 2017. It depicts an obvious caveman holding the hand of a modern-day man. The caveman is wearing a T shirt with the saying, I’M WITH STUPID, with an arrow pointing to modern man.
I will be offering The Superior Species in a series of posts. Hope you follow and enjoy the story.
THE CRYSTALS OF LIFE, A SCIENCE FICTION SHORT STORY
This story was accepted for publication by Books To Go Now in July 2011.
THE CRYSTALS OF LIFE
Jacques Stern was tall and lean and with his Van Dyke beard, exuded an air of sophistication. As the head of the Martian probe, THE QUEST FOR LIFE, he shouted to all in the command center, “We have a successful liftoff.” A mighty cheer went up from the men and women in the room who had toiled for so many years on the project to bring Martian samples back to Earth. They finally would realize the fruits of their labor, a chance to study these historic samples for signs of life.
An earlier probe, SEEKING LIFE, had identified a strange deposit of crystals. Analysis done by the miniature lab aboard the probe yielded puzzling results. The crystals were composed of elements found on Earth, but in a distinctively bizarre construction. There was an unexpected find with their analysis: they could initiate some sort of metabolism when introduced to a nutrient broth. This stymied the scientists studying the data. Checks and tests were accomplished on Earth and no fault could be found in the probe or the programs doing the analysis. This was a mystery that required further investigation.
A new unmanned spacecraft was designed along the lines of the Apollo spacecraft sent to explore the moon. A mother ship would insert into orbit around Mars from which a probe would be released to gather data and samples from the surface of the planet. There was no problem in determining where to land. The previous less sophisticated probe found these crystals just below the surface wherever they explored the planet. Now, to find the source of the first crystals analyzed, the new probe would have to land close to where the last probe made its discovery.
The miniature lab on the probe was much more advanced to that of the initial probe, SEEKING LIFE, which tested the crystals. However, this probe also contained a small module that would take harvested crystals and transport them to the mother ship and bring them back to Earth.
Stern, with his vast experience with SEEKING LIFE, was made head of this latest mission. He retained many of the scientists involved with the last Mars mission. He also enlisted the remaining members of the team responsible for the Apollo missions. With this group of scientists in place, he planned to carry out the current mission. He hoped the current effort would be successful in returning samples to Earth because the data from the last probe made no sense. Once the samples were brought to Earth, the mystery could be unraveled.
As he sat in the officers’ club at Patrick Air Force Base, looking out on the brilliant blue Atlantic Ocean, he questioned his friend, Tom Watson, for the hundredth time. Watson was the exact opposite of Jacques. He was short and portly, and with his selection of wardrobe, was often confused for one of the maintenance personnel. He was a friend from graduate school and Jacques often went to him for an explanation of the results found by some of his projects. Tom, as he often said, ‘was a jack of all trades but a master of none’. He was a skilled scientist in many disciplines who was often approached to delve out the answer to puzzling data.
“I’ve spent years going over the data, Tom. I’ve consulted the top geologists and inorganic chemists I could find; not one can explain the findings of the first probe. “What mechanism of nature could possibly allow a pure crystalline structure to show signs of life?”
Watson was used to this line of questioning; he paused to consider the data, and then said, “We have a built-in limit to what we understand. We gauge all our discoveries by what we have experienced, not by our imagination. We are prisoners of the known.
“On Earth, the building blocks of life are carbon-based. Out in space, it could be sulfur or some other element which we on this planet could never imagine being the backbone of life. With this next probe we will be able to test the findings of SEEKING LIFE. If the findings of the first probe are confirmed, the availability of samples will broaden our knowledge of the characteristics of the crystals and perhaps what constitutes life on the red planet.
* * *
THE QUEST FOR LIFE made its lonely passage through space, through the vacuum and cold toward the growing blood-red dot. After traveling many months, the probe began its orbit in the ink-black sky of Mars.
Back on Earth, a mighty cheer echoed throughout the command center monitoring the probe’s progress. Next was the anticipation of a successful landing on the red planet to analyze and gather samples, and then return to the mother ship.
* * *
As the probe inserted into orbit around Mars, a cold and unfeeling intelligence monitored the probe’s progress. The intelligence was passive, subject to the whim of any life form it encountered. Millions of years had gone by since this calculating entity had been ferried to its present home and occupied the surface of Mars waiting for a new life form to visit. If no contact was made, it did not matter, the presence could wait millions more years until it could enact its cycle. The intelligence occupying the surface of Mars had been patiently anticipating the arrival of a new life form, with the outcome of this encounter up to the invaders.
* * *
Stern gave the command for the mother ship to release the probe.
An intense atmosphere filled the command center.
“The probe has been disengaged,” reported one of the engineers from her station.
After a few minutes, which seemed like an eternity, another station reported, “We have ignition of the lander.”
Minutes later came word that the probe had landed on Martian soil. Another cheer enveloped the command center. Backs were slapped and the champagne opened. Off in one corner stood Stern wondering if the result from the last probe could be duplicated, and if some of the more sophisticated tests incorporated in the current probe would unravel the secrets held within the mysterious crystals.
Stern, along with the rest of the staff, monitored the progress of the lander. Again, white crystals were found after breaking through the surface layer of red soil. A sample, uncontaminated by the surface soil, was scooped up and introduced into the chamber with nutrients which would duplicate the tests performed by the previous mission. The results were the same. A battery of further tests was unable to explain the metabolic activity possessed by the crystal samples. The mission staff experienced relief that the results could be duplicated, but apprehension that this mystery might not be unraveled.
A command sent to the probe had samples introduced into a chamber for transport back to Earth. Once the mother ship obtained the proper position, the probe fired its engine and slowly lifted into the black Martian sky starting the long journey back to Earth.
“We have the returning capsule locked and secured,” called out one of the engineers. The mother ship fired its engines and left Mar’s orbit, heading home.
The mission specialists monitored the progress of THE QUEST FOR LIFE as it glided toward Earth. Stern spent this time conducting meetings at universities and centers of excellence in geology and inorganic chemistry. He filled notebooks with reports speculating on the science behind the unusual activity shown by the Martian crystals; how minerals could show metabolic activity. The common consensus was that either microbes were harbored on or within the crystals or the crystals themselves caused some sort of breakdown of the nutrient broth that mimicked metabolism.
Stern sat once again with his good friend Watson, this time in Stern’s sprawling ranch near Cocoa Beach. “Tom, in a matter of months we’ll have the Mars probe back on Earth. The excitement level in Houston, where the crystals will be analyzed, is tremendous. NASA has assembled some of the world’s foremost geologists, biologists and physicists to conduct an extensive battery of tests. This is the first time man has had an opportunity to examine material from another planet in our solar system. We could gain knowledge of a new life form, or a chemical process not found on Earth.
“I’m disappointed that I will not be present when the probe is opened in Houston, but once it splashes down in the Pacific, my responsibility for the mission is finished.”
“These are historic times,” said Tom. “It’s a great era in which to live. Perhaps the answer to one of the major questions mankind has pondered will finally be answered. Are we alone in the universe or just a speck of inhabited rock adrift in a cosmos teeming with life?”
* * *
THE QUEST FOR LIFE sailed toward a distant speck in the black void of space. The spec grew, becoming a small disc and finally a planet with clouds in the atmosphere and dark expanses of ocean. As the probe entered the first hint of the Earth’s atmosphere, the crystals altered their configuration ever so slightly, sensing the prospect of renewed life.
Aboard the U.S.S. Hornet, latest in a new line of aircraft carriers and named for the historic vessel of World War II, preparations were under way to retrieve the probe. Stored below deck in the carrier’s massive hangar was the steel vault that would be used to carry the precious cargo from Mars to Houston for study.
Managers in Houston followed the probe’s path to splashdown and radioed the carrier that they should soon be able to make visual contact. Hundreds of sailors crammed the deck and scanned the sky. A cheer went up when the three parachutes were spotted which would bring the craft gently down in the Pacific and end its long voyage of discovery. As soon as the probe was sighted, two Navy helicopters launched from the deck, bearing frogmen to recover the spacecraft. The primary helicopter hovered over the probe, now surrounded by an inflatable collar, the prop wash dampening the ocean waves. Two frogmen jumped into the ocean and attached a cable that would lift the space vehicle for transport to the Hornet. Once it was transferred to the deck, a group of scientists examined the vehicle to ensure there was no damage. “We have a good vehicle,” they reported.
While the recovery was being accomplished, NASA, along with naval personnel brought the vault topside and rolled it near to where the helicopter would place the probe. A specifically designed forklift gently maneuvered the vehicle into the vault. The mission was accomplished. The vault was sealed and returned below decks for the journey to California and then on to Houston.
* * *
After the Johnson Space Center in Houston received word that the probe was safe and secure, years of anticipation had come to an end. Now it was time to get to work and find out what those crystals were. There was a celebration. Jacques Stern approached the podium to address the crowd, “Ladies and gentlemen, today we made history. We secured, for the first time, samples from another planet. You are all to be congratulated for the excellent work you have done to see this mission to its successful conclusion.
“Now it is up to the scientists at Johnson to analyze these mysterious crystals and uncover the secrets hidden within their structure.”
Stern finished his speech, and that night driving home, wondered at the mysteries that might be revealed.
The Hornet’s journey to California took nearly a week. This wait added to the eagerness among the scientists waiting to work with the crystals, for there wasn’t an aircraft able to take off from the carrier that could accommodate the vault.
Dr. Jeff Watts, a leader in crystallography, was head of the team selected to study the Martian samples. Jeff was in his mid-fifties but looked ten years younger. With his short-cropped salt and pepper hair and a runner’s build, he looked nothing like the world-renowned scientist he was.
Assisting Watts was Igor Stanovich, a highly respected Russian physicist. Stanovich was in his mid-sixties, muscular, and a short solid man. He projected a no-nonsense air yet hidden beneath his gruff exterior was a caring heart for those who were willing to break through his protective shell.
The third member of the team, and youngest, was Beverly Yochum, already a legend in her field of geology at the age of thirty-five. She accomplished an impressive number of discoveries and was an expert in the study of the most hostile environments the world offered. Blue-eyed and blonde, with a model’s figure, she often turned heads but kept busy in her work. Married at twenty-five, she lost her husband in a car crash five years later and looked to work to consume her pain.
The team gathered in San Diego and anxiously awaited the Hornet’s arrival. Once the ship docked, the team hurried aboard and stood in the Hornet’s hangar staring at the vault containing the samples from Mars, feeling the excitement of their quest for knowledge of another planet.
Dr. Watts said to his colleagues, “I have a great deal of anticipation for the project we are about to undertake.” His words were refined but his voice betrayed the excitement of a child in a toy store.
The vault was brought ashore and trucked to an awaiting Air Force C-17 cargo plane to continue its journey to Houston. The three scientists rode to Texas with their precious cargo. They sat in silence, observing the vault and wondering at the secrets that lie within.
Even before the Mars mission was launched, construction had begun on a special laboratory, isolated from any other structure, to study the Martian crystals. It would be equivalent to the labs used to study the most highly contagious pathogens known to man. Once completed, it was equipped with all the state-of-the-art instruments required for geological and biological research. The scientists and technicians working in the lab would go through a vigorous cleansing and gowning procedure, donning spacesuit-like gear to ensure that no contamination was released or introduced.
While the lab was being built, Watts and his team planned the experiments needed to solve the crystals’ mysterious qualities of appearing as a mineral yet having biological properties.
Upon reaching Houston, the vault was carefully unloaded and taken to the lab which would act as both a storage chamber and laboratory for the crystals and the probe. Now that the vault was safely in the lab, the scientists were full of anticipation ready to examine their precious samples.
The next morning, Watts began, “Now comes the moment we have anticipated for years, and that mankind has dreamed of ever since the red planet was discovered. We stand on the threshold to answering the age-old question, Is there life on Mars: are we alone?
Watts opened the vault and inside lay the probe. Using a special wrench, he opened the chamber containing the crystals. There was a whooshing sound as the sterile air from the lab entered the chamber. Watts pulled from the chamber a cup-like device containing crystals. The entire planet witnessed this historic moment via miniature cameras attached to the headgear of the scientists.
The three gathered around the crystals. Watts said, “They appear to be pure white, like grains of salt but coarser. A few have a reddish-brown discoloration which must be Martian soil.” The excitement in his voice was evident. After a few more moments of inspection, he carefully placed the cup on the floor of the vault and secured the door. He then turned to his colleagues and said, “Tomorrow we begin our work.”
As the scientists slept, cameras trained on the vault were constantly monitored by NASA personnel. The vault must be observed at all times to ensure the crystals had not been tampered with. This would also make it certain that all findings made would not be subject to doubt of any type.
It was two thirty in the morning when the technician monitoring the vault saw the first bulge in its side appear. By the time Watts and his team were alerted, all sides of the vault were peppered with disfigurations, as if someone was firing a shotgun at the walls from inside. Then, before the horrified eyes of all watching the monitor, the vault’s door burst open. From inside they could see a mass of white forms.
Watts shouted, “Quick, we have to get to the lab.”
After an abbreviated decontamination, the scientists donned their protective suits and entered the lab. Near the vault, they could see spheres the size of basketballs with octagonal surfaces lying on the floor. Within the vault there were several similar objects, which, although smaller, appeared to be growing.
Watts leaned forward and picked up one of the white masses. Immediately he let out a blood-curdling scream and watched in disbelief as his hands penetrated the giant crystal. Before his unbelieving eyes, his thick protective gloves dissolved, followed by the skin of his hands. He looked down on his muscles and tendons and the veins and arteries, coursing blood through his hands and fingers. Soon his hands were no more than bone and the growing globe dropped to the floor shattering and raining crystals on all three scientists. The crystals immediately melted through the suits, seeking the life-giving water within.
The technicians monitoring the vault were in shock as it appeared that all three suits were now empty, and the crystals continued to grow at an alarming rate.
It wasn’t long before the white masses breached the lab. The entire building was ordered evacuated. The military was alerted and established a perimeter a half mile away from the rapidly disintegrating building. Tanks and artillery pieces trained their guns on the growing mass of white. Suddenly, the air was filled with the roar of fighters dropping bombs and obliterating the crystals in fire and smoke.
No scientists were consulted on this plan of attack. If they had been, the officers in charge of the operation would have been told you cannot kill a crystal. The wiser approach would have been to bury them. Soon Martian crystals were swept up into the jet stream. Some were deposited in the ocean, and this provided the first clue about their survival. Ships in the warm southern Atlantic reported monstrous icebergs. But what they truly saw were giant mountains of crystals attached to the ocean floor and growing at a fantastic pace. More than one vessel accidentally sailed into the crystalline islands and disappeared.
Too late to save the planet, the growth requirement for the crystals was discovered to be water. When the probe was opened, water vapor entered and initiated the process.
Now with the abundance of water on Earth, a growth process that could not be halted was in progress. It was not long before huge white mountains were seen where the land was once flat. The oceans began to recede as a vast number of white crystalline islands began to appear. The Earth’s population not directly absorbed by the crystals died from lack of water, and Earth soon resembled its sister planet Mars, barren of life.
Once every molecule of water was consumed, the massive crystal mountains began to crumble leaving the planet covered in a thick layer of white. But the planet was not entirely dead. It was still geologically alive. Volcanoes erupted and earthquakes spread a thick layer of new rock and ash covering the crystals. The great cities of the Earth, all signs of the civilization that once existed, were buried.
* * *
Millennia later, a bright, fast moving light appeared in the dead planet’s sky. The light intensified and entered the orbit of the desolate planet. From the orbiting visitor, a smaller light emerged and headed for the planet’s surface.
THE END
AND THEN HE RESTED, A SHORT STORY
And Then He Rested was accepted for publication by Bewildering Stories in December 2007. The story has definite religious overtones and I thought this might be a problem. It wasn’t.
AND THEN HE RESTED
David Roser, a twenty-two-year-old graduate student, was summoned to Dr. Smithfield’s office one bleak winter afternoon. David was enrolled at M.I.T. in the Astronomy Department. He chose this field for it provided the opportunity to dwell on concrete observations, but also gave him a chance to dream, to ponder the vastness of space and the possibilities of what might exist out there.
He was also in awe of Dr. Springfield.
Springfield had won a Nobel Prize in physics for his study of the cosmos. To work under the guidance of Dr. Springfield went well beyond an honor. It allowed him to tread the sacred ground of the universe.
To be summoned to Springfield’s office was a rare pleasure David savored for the man truly had the characteristics of the absent-minded genius. When thinking, he constantly smoked his pipe, and a wave of aromatic smoke followed him. All the buildings on campus were smoke-free, but no one had the nerve to tell Dr. Springfield to extinguish his pipe. To add to the dilemma, he was hard of hearing and anyone daring to reprimand him would have brought attention to someone shouting at a Nobel Prize winning laureate.
David knocked loudly on Dr. Smithfield’s office door.
“Come in,” came a preoccupied voice far louder than normal.
David opened the door to see Dr. Springfield seated at his cluttered desk, his head wreathed in a cloud of smoke as he puffed furiously at his pipe.
“David, thank you so much for coming. Have a seat.”
Smithfield motioned to the only chair in the office. It was piled high with books, which David carefully removed and stacked on the floor. As he waited for the professor to complete his work, David drank in the atmosphere of the room. Most of the wall space was taken up with bookshelves piled haphazardly with books and stacks of papers. On the little wall space available hung framed photos taken by famous astronomers. There were pictures taken using the Hubble telescope of distant galaxies and images of the planets taken from some of the most famous observatories on Earth. They were all taken by world-famous astronomers and given to Dr. Springfield. All the photos had been taken by former pupils.
Smithfield’s desk was huge, taking up a third of the room. The surface was overflowing with books, papers and star charts. So although the desk was massive, the work area was minimal.
After a few minutes had passed, David loudly cleared his throat, not sure if Springfield remembered that he was there. Because of the professor’s hearing all communication had to be done quite aggressively. His deafness also accounted for his booming voice.
“David, there’s been an important discovery. I’m sure you have heard about the cloud of matter found revolving around a distant star in the Cancer system. The cloud is approximately the same distance the Earth is from our sun, and the star around which it travels is very similar to our own.”
“Yes, professor. The news is full of the discovery.”
Smithfield continued, “What makes this find truly exciting is that it is a window to the formation of our own planet. It will take billions of years, but someday this mass of debris may form another Earth. What is also so exciting is that, because of the distance of this system, we will be observing a planet form at approximately at the very time our own came into existence, give or take a few million years.
“The reason I wanted to see you, David, was that I want you to be involved in taking some of the initial measurements to determine the characteristics of this mass. Yours will be some of the first data recorded. For unknown generations, scientists will follow this planet’s development. It will be an important view to our past.”
David said, “I feel honored that you want me to do this work, but will it lead to a project for my degree?”
“I’m afraid not. We’ll only have about two weeks to record the initial data, then that area of the sky won’t be visible for observation for another hundred years. But who knows, with the advancement of space-based telescopes, we may be able to gather more data before that.”
* * *
David made his observations over the next week, and they were truly amazing. He was sure his measurements were incorrect, so he did not inform Dr. Springfield of his findings. He did, however, consult with other astronomers after five days. David found he was one among many who did not believe their results.
On the seventh day after David began his observations, the hallways of M.I.T. were in an uproar. The astronomy building had lost its mantle of reserve and discipline.
Springfield did not hear the shouts echoing through the corridors. Beyond his office it was pandemonium.
A bewildered David Rosen knocked on Springfield’s door.
“Come in,” boomed the professor’s voice.
David was upset, mystified and euphoric all at the same moment. He was on the brink of tears as he walked into Springfield’s office.
“David, what is the matter? You look like something is terribly wrong, son.”
“Professor, I’ve finished the project.”
Smithfield said, “I thought we could observe the mass for at least two weeks. Did you make the necessary measurements before you lost it?”
With a laugh that was almost mad, David said, “No professor, the project is finished. The debris is now a planet.”
Smithfield looked puzzled, “How could that be?” he asked. “There must be some mistake.”
“No, professor, there is no mistake. I’ve checked with other observatories. There is now a planet there. It took six days!”
THE END
SECOND CHANCE, A SHORT STORY
The inspiration for writing this short story, Second Chance, was from hearing those questioning the value of space exploration. They say, “Why send all that money into space?” If these folks are pure in their belief, they must reject all that our investment into space has provided. They probably don’t use cell phones, watch news broadcast from around the world, or watch weather reports. And don’t forget, space travel has given us Tang.
Second Chance was accepted for publication by Books To Go Now in November 2011, and by Separate Worlds in December 2013.
Second Chance
Richard Walsh, 95, relaxed in his backyard beach chair. The air was crystal clear; this was highly unusual for the smog, blown in from the coastal cities, often obscured the sky. He enjoyed this rare moment and felt at peace as he gazed at a host of constellations. Richard prided himself on being able to identify everyone visible in his piece of the sky. He chose to live in the desert, much to the dismay of his wife Molly, 80, to fulfil his passion for the universe.
They had married forty years ago and were beginning to feel their age. “Why can’t we live closer to Debbie?” Molly constantly asked.
He would answer, “We can fly to visit her and be there in less than two hours. I need the night sky for my studies. I need to be far away from the maddening city lights, but even here, the smog is a problem.” Secretly, he wished they could move farther from the pollution, but they were too old to begin life again in a new location.
Richard was a science writer and worked from home. As he gazed up at the stars, he would mutter, “Someday, man will make journeys into space that I cannot even imagine. That is where our future lies.”
###
Voyages eventually were made to the world’s moon, but Richard died before they were accomplished. The exploration of the moon was as far as space travel went. There were too many problems to tend to on the planet as the population continued to grow and resources were devoured.
GENERATIONS LATER
Dr. Gregor Adomski, with his bushy eyebrows and lion’s mane of gray hair, was an astronomer. At age seventy-three, he had never lost his child-like amazement with the universe. He was an advocate of space exploration. However, there wasn’t a government on the planet that would spend the money to make the jump into space. For generations man pondered the end of their world, the fact that their world would someday cease to exist was known. Scientists could predict cosmic events, but they had little influence on how the information was incorporated in future practices of governments. Those decisions were more of a political nature and science had no place in politics.
Adomski also noted a growing trend. Due to the planet’s growing population, weather conditions had deteriorated during the last fifty years. These changes resulted in massive crop failures and a ‘once in a century’ storm became a common occurrence. Turning to his assistant, Dr. Jeff Farber, Adomski said, “Our world cannot continue on this course. Civilization is on a downward spiral. We still have time to take action to ensure the survival of our society, but will we? Man was meant to explore the universe, to push the limits of his existence. Perhaps future generations can reach distant planets of solar systems that have yet to be discovered. Time is of the essence. We must act now or accept our fate.”
Jeff shared Adomski’s concern. The planet’s doom loomed in the distant future. Yet, most of the planet’s inhabitants were too occupied in their daily lives to care about an event that would not occur for thousands of generations. The average person thought, Why should I care about what happens in the distant future when I need to feed my family now?
Satellites were launched. Their purpose was to monitor weather and improve communications of the planet, not as stepping stones for space travel. Jeff hoped that someday space exploration would begin. But his heart told him it would not be so; the planet was consumed by too many problems to make precious resources available for space exploration. When he went home and shared his concerns with his wife, Janet. She only reinforced the population’s mindset.
She would say, “Why do you need to worry about something so distant when there are so many problems facing the planet here and now? I just don’t understand your priorities.”
Jeff recently visited a farm; most of the population of the planet was encouraged to do so to see how the governments were staying ahead of any crisis. The tour was led by Stuart Gromley, more of a scientist than a farmer, gaining the knowledge necessary to provide the food needed by the ever-expanding population.
Gromley began his tour, which would be short, for in reality, farms no longer existed, land was too precious, to grow crops greenhouses the size of skyscrapers was used. Through enhanced fertilizers and crop genetics, what would have taken thousands of acres to grow took just one acre of land. Farms went vertical. Gromley was proud of his farm and said to the tour, “As you can see, not an ounce of precious soil is wasted. Hydro farming allows us to grow any crops we want with only water and chemicals. Healthy food is brought to your table with little drain on the planet.”
The hand of a young woman shot up.
Gromley muttered, “Shit, there always has to be one,” and then said out loud, “Do you have a question?”
“Yes,” she responded, “I have read papers stating that some of these chemicals used to produce our food can build up in our bodies and produce cancers.”
Gromley shared a secret thought that many of his profession shared, Honey, would you rather die now of starvation or die later of cancer? But no one ever said this out loud.
Gromley held his temper and said, “Studies are still ongoing to see if these claims are true. Our research, thus far, has not proven any of these claims.” He did not share the fact that the research was nonexistent.
Overall, however, science improved and extended the lifespan of the world, and the population lived longer. Those in power concentrated on the immediate, as for the distant future, science would always find a way to solve the world’s problems.
TEN THOUSAND GENERATIONS LATER
Adomski and Farber were long dust. The fears they shared for the planet were forgotten.
Laws were passed by the most technologically advanced nations and space travel was ignored in favour of improving the condition of humanity. As these decisions were made, scientists on the planet predicted the maximum population the planet could support. Centuries since that prediction, the population of the planet soared to double that prediction. Yet, with further advances in technology, life continued. However, turmoil broke out on the planet. The more advanced countries continued to live fairly well, but the third world countries were in chaos. These circumstances reinforced the opponents of space exploration in favour of helping the people.
After dinner, Alex Reed, an expert in population dynamics, went to his study and quietly closed the door, blocking out the sounds of his children at play before their bedtime. He did this more and more often to turn on his computer and review the history of his planet and the dreams of space exploration attributed to the writings of Dr. Adomski and a host of the scientist that came along after his death. They all shared the hope that exploration of the universe would go forward and save the species.
Reed was both a scientist and an intellectual. He studied the great accomplishments made in art and literature going back thousands of years, but as a scientist, he knew that at some distant day it would all be destroyed. “All of this will be nothing but cinders,” he said to no one there. “All these magnificent accomplishments of the planet will be lost. Is it too late to think about the preservation of mankind’s history, of the great works produced?”
Reed remembered well the warnings Dr. Adomski had postulated and could not believe how self-centered the people of the planet had become. Even now, with the time of its demise calculated, the population remained uninterested in space exploration. He reasoned that he was only a scientist and had no power over the decisions that determine the destiny of the planet. Elected officials made policy and the rest of humanity, relying on their intelligence, would have to accept the judgement. Election and power were more important than reality.
EIGHTY THOUSAND GENERATIONS LATER
The planet was populated beyond belief. Every acre of land had hundreds of residents and resources were being stretched to the limit. When all the land was occupied, floating cities were constructed. It was not long before the entire surface was in use, reducing the planet to a seething cauldron of toxins and waste. Conditions had been deteriorating for many thousands of years, but they now accelerated to astronomical proportions. Food riots had begun and, more frequently, water riots. As predicted, the sun was getting brighter and spontaneous fires erupted, destroying vast areas and populations. The world was one large metropolis and there was nowhere to run; nowhere to escape the final result.
President Addis, leader of half the planet’s population, summoned top scientists for a conference to discuss the world’s future. The president sat patiently and listened to their talks.
Most were the same, full of hope, yet unable to dictate a plan that would save man.
In attendance was Dr. Scious Minori. She was the world’s leading authority on the state of the planet; the president listened to her speech. The message was most disheartening.
She began by saying, “My presentation will be brief. Our planet, our species, is doomed. I see no hope for any intervention that can alter the future. Our resources are stretched beyond the ability to support the population. Our future will be nothing but turmoil.
“The planet is beyond repair. There are no errors in the calculations. In approximately twenty thousand years, the sun in its death throws will engulf our world. Until then, our existence will be that of a constant conflict. The only peace our people will know is at the end of our existence.
“We have waited too long to ensure survival of our species and all the life that inhabits our planet. Now, it is not possible to journey into space, even though there is time. At this point, to build a facility for space exploration would displace hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of people. On the entire planet, there is no room for such a center for space exploration. We are at a loss to save our civilization.”
The president, however, missed one presentation that shared a glimmer of hope for the future, not for the planet but for the species, and provided statistics that speculated the proposition that Homo sapiens was not doomed. It was held in a small room with seating for less than thirty. The speaker was Dr. Fermi Rialtos, a bacteriologist. The presentation was so esoteric that it was not considered worthy of the president’s attention.
There were only ten scientists in the audience.
Dr. Rialtos began his talk by saying, “The bacteria I primarily study is E. coli. One of the purposes in my use of these bacteria was the study of evolution. The benefit to studying these organisms is that one can observe thousands of generations in a short period of time. “I inoculated twelve flasks of bacteria and studied them for 30,000 generations with the E. coli exposed to identical conditions through the course of the study. At the conclusion of the experiment, I analyzed the genetics of all twelve flasks. Their pattern of development was identical.
“I feel this demonstrates that evolution is not random. Given similar conditions, life will progress in a similar manner.
“I am also something of an amateur astronomer. There are hundreds of stars, around which planets have or are presently forming. The attributes of some of these planets are similar to our planet, millions of years in the past.”
Dr. Rialtos went on to describe the conditions on some of these recently discovered planets. “One planet I have been studying is very young, a mere neophyte, but I think there may be a possibility that it will someday harbour life. The star it orbits is slightly larger than our own sun, making their years slightly longer, but the planet’s position is a close approximation to that of our own world in relation to our sun. I feel it may be capable of supporting life, but it is only one of possibly thousands that we have discovered in the universe. Perhaps our civilization will be replicated in the cosmos with more lasting results”
He finished by saying, “Embrace your children every day and enjoy the life you have.”
###
Toward the end of their world, the population prayed to the God they believed would save them. But God had other plans.
###
The end of civilization was not pretty.
In the distant past, it would have been survival of the fittest. But now, thanks to globalization and shared technology, all populations of the planet were on an even footing. Equals fought equals to the death to exist. And in the end, as the sun spent the last of its life-giving force, the last of the species perished.
###
On a planet millions of light-years away, backyards were full of people looking skyward, straining to see the star-like light racing across the heavens. The year was 1957.
Tim Riddell, age five, stood outside with his parents. His father, Eli, told him what to look for and where to look. As they watched, the Riddell family could hear voices all around them as neighbours also looked to the heavens.
This was an historic event. It was the first of its kind. Earth was being orbited by a man-made machine.
Tim began to shout, “I see it! I see it!” and his small arm pointed skyward.
All around people also began to point and shout, “There it is!”
Liz, Tim’s mom, said to no one in particular, “I feel so exposed.”
Eli smiled and said, “Tonight, I want to be your Sputnik.”
The space race was on. Sputnik made history for the U.S.S.R. Later, after many embarrassing attempts, the U.S. also launched a satellite. The race would last for decades and initiate Earth’s journey into space.
###
The year was now 2093, and the advances in science and space travel were beyond belief. Those who stood in their backyards gazing up at the sky in 1957 only witnessed the beginning. Science and mankind had developed a propulsion system that enables man to visit the closest neighbouring solar system. At the same time, great advances were made in astronomy with platforms installed in deep space.
One day, Dr. Theo Thurber was monitoring one of the platforms when alarm bells began to ring indicating an event worthy of study. He rushed to his monitor in time to witness the beginning of the death of a distant star. The bright glow of its passing lasted for weeks, and then slowly dimmed and disappeared.
After the initial observation, Dr. Thurber dictated into his records, “Witnessed the death of a distant star two million light years away. Nothing unusual. This is not a significant event.”
Thurber could not know that a distant civilization had come to and end.
© Copyright 2013 Walt Trizna. All rights reserved.
THINK NO EVIL
This story was accepted for publication by Nocturnal Ooze in November 2006.
THINK NO EVIL
I have always had an active imagination. If I had had the courage to put a bullet through my head when I first realized the consequences of my thoughts, you dear reader, would have more than five days to live. I suggest, for your own sanity, you put down this story. Now!
Consider yourself warned.
I used my vivid imagination to write works of science fiction and had some measure of success. I was no Ray Bradbury, but I was able to make a reasonable living with my novels with flashy covers showing alien worlds and their weird residents. The occasional scantily clad Earth females depicted on the covers didn’t hurt sales either. I would let my imagination run wild and my pen would follow. I do not know the true extent of the powers, but I fear I may have done some damage light years from Earth.
The first hint of my peculiar ability occurred a month ago. I visited a bagel shop early one morning, as was my habit, to avoid crowds. In my southeastern Pennsylvania community, three people constitute a crowd, four a mob.
I entered the store and found, and much to my satisfaction, I was the only customer. A husband and wife owned and ran the establishment. They were always there together.
I placed my order, and as I stood idly, a strange thought emerged. How easy it would be to rob this store at this early hour. I could write a mystery. It would be my first attempt at something other than science fiction. My mind was consumed with plotting the crime, and as I waited for my bagels, my thoughts set up the robbery scene. Seven days later, that store was robbed and the couple murdered.
What a strange coincidence, I thought, as I read the newspaper.
A few days after the robbery, I was driving along an interstate highway behind an old pickup truck. A ladder was propped up against the tailgate. I imagined the truck hitting a large bump in the road and the ladder being hurled from the truck and through the windshield of the car following. I switched lanes and forgot the vision.
Seven days later a horrendous accident happened, almost identical to the scene I imagined. It made the local news.
This time I was shaken. Was this just a second coincidence?
I tried an experiment. I pictured a week of continuous rain. We were under drought restrictions at the time, so I thought this would be an innocent and perhaps beneficial test. Exactly seven days later, the rains poured down and rivers overran their banks. I had forgotten about the rivers. Property was ruined. Lives were lost.
To avoid more damage, I went back to writing science fiction. Fiction that I ensured occurred far from this planet.
Then it happened. Two days ago, after I vowed never to conjure up stories about the here and now, I slipped. I was writing a story about an alien ship traveling through an asteroid belt. Before I knew it, my mind was picturing the asteroid that impacted the Earth some sixty-five million years ago causing the extinction of the dinosaurs. But God help me, my mind wandered and took another step. I wondered what the Earth would be like if an asteroid ten times the size of the one that killed the dinosaurs impacted the Earth.
We have five days left.
THE END
SIDE EFFECTS
This story was published by Dream Fantasy International in December 2005.
SIDE AFFECTS
The female picked up her baby and held it close, suckling it for the last time. She did not have a name; language was thousands of years in the future. As she gazed at her infant, only days old, tears rolled down her cheeks. She caressed the small hairy body and kissed the prominent brow, the two characteristics that spelled the infant’s doom. She stood, and slowly walked into the forest. Moments later the forest echoed with a child’s scream, cut suddenly short. The female emerged from the forest alone.
She thought of another member of the loosely formed tribe with a similar baby, who did not have the strength to destroy it. The female raised the child, its aggressiveness and appearance different from the other children living in the clearing in the African forest. The child grew strong and hateful. One day a member of the tribe found the mother dead, partially devoured. The child was never seen again. It entered the jungle, more animal than human, to live as its ancestors did thousands of years before.
***
Modern science could have discovered the explanation for these mysterious births. The cause was a unique receptor, a protein on the surface of the cell. Many receptors discovered today are seven transmembrane receptors; they course the cell wall seven times weaving in and out like a tiny thread. These aggressive individuals had receptors that were fourteen transmembrane receptors, monstrous in size and in action, bringing together hormones in rare mixes, resulting in a savage monster. These receptors disappeared with the extinction of the savage individuals, but the genetic machinery that manufactured these monstrous receptors did not.
Thousands of years ago, as these monsters were born and eliminated, there was another type of individual created. It was rare, rarer than its savage counterparts. These individuals possessed the genetic machinery to produce the aberrant receptors, but this could only occur when there was a change in serotonin levels. These changes don’t normally occur in nature now, and the birth of these individuals continued with their genetic potential unrealized. Unrealized, that is, until the advent of the new antidepressants.
***
Jeff Skovich was a quiet guy, the kind of guy you never noticed, primarily because he didn’t want to be noticed. Only Jeff and his wife Linda knew the torment of his life. Lately he was blowing up at the slightest provocation. He was angry all the time and had more and more difficulty dealing with daily routines. Then, one day, Jeff had a particularly violent argument with Linda. After Jeff had nearly struck her she shouted, “You need help! I refuse to go on living like this,” and stormed out of the house. Confused and hurt, she drove aimlessly for hours and when she returned, Jeff was gone.
Days later, a sullen Jeff returned home, and would not tell Linda where he had been. They spent a week passing each other in the house, avoiding any contact, sleeping in different rooms. The love Jeff felt for Linda ran so deep, he could not bear the thought of life without her but could not confront her. Finally, Linda broke the ice. “I love you”, she told him, but insisted, “You need help for your mood swings, and we really can’t go on like this.”
At first Jeff said nothing, and then his feelings poured out, “I feel hopeless all the time. I can hardly function because nothing seems to have any importance. I use all the energy I have just to get through the day. By the time I come home I’m spent, angry and confused. I just can’t deal with things the way I once did.” As Jeff talked, the tears started to flow from Linda’s eyes and from Jeff’s. Linda knew the man Jeff once was and wanted him back.
Jeff finally agreed to see Dr. Roberts, their family doctor, and after a short discussion Roberts said, “I’m going to put you on one of the new serotonin reuptake inhibitors. I think that this medication will help you. We’ll give it a try and see if it makes a difference.”
Jeff filled the prescription and started the therapy he hoped would return his life to him. After a week he noticed a difference in his approach to problems; instead of flying into a rage, he stopped and thought through the conflict he felt. He was no longer angry all the time, had more patience and was more focused on his work. Linda noticed the change too. She no longer dreaded coming home from her job, trying to gauge Jeff’s mood for the evening. Jeff and Linda began enjoying life and their marriage to the fullest. Jeff’s job as an electrical engineer took off. The work he accomplished won recognition and promotions. Linda also grew comfortable in her life. Her job teaching at the local middle school gave her great satisfaction. Linda adored children but was not able to have her own, so this proximity to children fulfilled a need.
Jeff had now been on the antidepressant for years. His life with Linda could not be better; he found himself feeling guilty at times for the happiness that was his. He was now in charge of a major project for the company. The outlook of every facet of his life was positive.
“You know Linda,” Jeff said one morning, “I think it’s a waste of money for me to continue to take the antidepressant. I feel fine, we get along great, and things couldn’t be better at work. I’m going to have a talk with Dr. Roberts and see what he says.”
Jeff made the appointment and Linda went with him to testify to the changes Jeff had undergone. Dr. Roberts agreed and slowly began to wean Jeff off the medicine. When Jeff began taking the drug, he started at a low dose and gradually increased the dosage until he underwent the full benefits of the drug. Now he reversed the process and began taking less and less, paying attention to any changes in his mood or behavior, until he was taking the lowest dose used. He still was doing fine so he stopped taking the drug altogether.
Weeks, then months went by, and Jeff was even tempered and happy as he had been when he was on the medication, but deep within his genetic makeup subtle changes were taking place. Removing the drug from his system set his cellular machinery into gear, in a manner that had not taken place in man for thousands of years. Proteins were being manufactured that were awesome in length and complexity. They weaved through the walls of his cells fourteen times, like vipers ready to do their damage. The process was slow, gradually creating a monster. The night he began the crossover, Jeff had a dream.
Jeff dreamt he walked an African savanna, hunting for what he knew he needed to continue his existence – food. He stalked his prey, made a kill and feasted on his quarry’s raw flesh. Jeff awoke bathed in sweat, unable to understand his apparition’s meaning. The final image remained imprinted in his mind. In his dream the quarry had been human. This deeply disturbed him for days. He tried to dismiss the dream but couldn’t, for it reoccurred. And as the side effects began to alter his body, his dreams became more and more vivid as his mind was also altered.
Six months went by before Jeff noticed a change in his behavior. He was out shopping one day and was about to pull into a parking space when another car beat him to the spot. Normally, he would have uttered some epithet to himself and gone on his way, but this time was different. He pulled his car behind the intruder to prevent him from leaving, then jumped out of his car and attacked. Jeff hammered his fist on the closed window, confronting an elderly couple. The face of the old man behind the wheel revealed shock and disbelief. Both he and his wife cowered as Jeff continued to yell and pound the window. In desperation, the old man began to blow his horn continuously, hoping to attract attention. The noise and forming crowd brought Jeff to his senses. He jumped into his car and left.
As he drove away, Jeff was shaking with fear and rage. Years ago, when he was depressed, he felt rage, a rage born of desperation. The rage he felt now was different; it was animal. For a moment, he wanted to kill the old couple, not considering the consequences.
He did not mention this incident to his wife. He was both scared and ashamed and wanted to forget all about what had happened. Jeff wondered if maybe he should return to his antidepressant but couldn’t realize that there was no turning back. His genetic machinery was in overdrive and could not be reversed.
Jeff had always had a heavy beard. With his thick black hair, his five o’clock shadow would sometimes appear at three, but now by eleven o’clock he looked like he hadn’t shaved at all that morning, and his normally densely haired torso and arms seemed to be growing additional hair. Another change took place that he did not understand, seeming impossible. His face seemed to be altered ever so slightly. His brow seemed to be thickened. It was almost impossible to notice without close inspection. The way Jeff first became aware of this change was that his glasses felt uncomfortable to wear. But this was not a problem for his eyesight seemed to be improving to the extent that he didn’t need his glasses.
The change that distressed Jeff the most was the change in his temper. These days he avoided Linda for fear of a blowup. Small things that she had always done, her little habits, would now grate his nerves generating a mad rage that he fought to keep under control. He had more fits of anger while in public. One day, an elderly woman entered a checkout line at the same time as Jeff, and he pushed her, knocked her to the ground yelling obscenities. A crowd gathered as he ran from the store. In the distance he could hear the wail of a police siren. He walked for hours until darkness fell, and then returned to the store’s parking lot to retrieve his car.
Day by day, his appearance was changing. His brow was becoming more prominent and there was no controlling his beard growth, and his body was covered with what appeared to be fur. Jeff was at a loss as to what to do, whom to turn to for he found it impossible to communicate his rage.
Then one day, Linda was gone from his life too. She knew he was angry again, but not like before. The rage was constant, and she couldn’t help but notice the change in his appearance. She couldn’t take the anger any longer and asked, “What’s happening Jeff?”
Jeff’s reply was both verbal and physical, “Shut up bitch,” he shouted and slapped Linda as hard as he could. He had never struck her before. Linda fell to the floor and Jeff began to kick and stomp her until his energy was spent. Linda’s face was no longer recognizable. He left and entered a primal world from which he would never return.
THE END
ELMO’S INVENTION XI
THE FUTURE OF ELMO’S TIME MACHINE
Kingsley walked home with tomorrow’s paper. He was deep in thought and anxious to organize them. As soon as he got home he retrieved a pad and pencil, opened the paper, and while reading took copious notes. His expression grew grave as he worked and highlighted the articles and sections he thought were important. Once this was accomplished he prepared for bed knowing he would get little sleep. The next morning he awoke from the restless night he anticipated. After a meager breakfast he placed a call to Elmo.
Elmo answered to phone and Kingsley could hear the anticipation in his voice. This did not do much for Kingsley’s spirits. “Elmo, this is Kingsley. I thought we might get together and have a discussion about your machine. Would six tonight be okay?”
“Sure,” Elmo responded. “I can’t wait to talk to you about it. It’s all I can think about.”
Mildred was listening and instantly knew the subject of the conversation. She tried to hide her growing apprehension thinking about the last time her husband’s invention was made public.
Kingsley arrived at precisely 6:00PM to Mildred waiting with a steaming mug of coffee. She said, “Elmo is so excited to talk to you.” She looked at Kingsley’s expression and could detect and uneasiness. She said no more and Kingsley walked down the stairs to the cellar.
“Kingsley, my friend, I’m so glad you came. I can’t wait to talk to you about the prospects of patenting my machine.”
Kingsley was known for his directness, and Elmo expected that now, but to say he was less than enthusiastic with what he heard would be a stretch.
Holding the paper obtained during his time travel, Kingsley referred to his pad of notes although he knew exactly what he needed to say. “Elmo, I’ve highlighted some sections and articles in this paper. Areas where your time machine would have an impact.”
Elmo and noticed that the entire sports section was marked. He looked up at his friend.
“Your machine could spell the end of sports betting both legal and illegal. The horse racing industry would collapse. If just one person knew the future and outcome of any sporting event and sold that information, well you can see what would happen.”
As Elmo continued to study the paper Kingsley went on. “Keep in mind that one person selling information scenario. What would happen if the future of the stock market was known? I have no idea how it would effect the economy, but I don’t think it would be for the best.
“Then there are political races. Knowledge of the winner would be devastating. It would result in a self fulfilling prophecy. Why vote if the winner is known?
“These are just a few of the instances where your machine could determine the present by knowing the future.
“Then there is the bigger picture. In science fiction, whenever someone travels into the past they make sure not to change a single thing. Step on a beetle and you could come back to a different world. But you see, even when you are traveling into the future you are trespassing on someone’s past.
“I’ve been thinking about H.G. Wells book The Time Machine. Of course it was fiction, but the future looked dismal for mankind. When the time traveler traveled into the distant future the planet was inhabited by giant crabs. I know this is only fiction but do we really want to know what the future holds?
“Elmo, I’m just afraid from the public may not be as immediate as it was when your machine was a prison, but eventually the response could be more devastating and disruptive to you and Mildred.”
Kingsley’s opinions carried a great deal of work with Elmo. He sat in silence and then said, “All that work for nothing. I’m a failure.”
“No you’re not. It’s just that your efforts produced knowledge that our society is unable to handle. I know it isn’t much, but I’m proud of what you accomplished. Perhaps there will come a time when your time machine will serve a useful purpose, but I’m afraid that time is not now.
“The final choice is yours, Elmo. I can only give you my advice and opinion.”
Kingsley then stood up, put his had on Elmo’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze, and walked upstairs. He saw Mildred in the kitchen. “I think Elmo needs to be alone for a while, but he also needs you.” Kingsley left and Mildred knew the discussion did not go well.
She waited and then walked down the cellar stairs. Elmo was wheeling his time machine to the corner of the cellar where his transport chambers stood. The machine that had cost Mildred her tea cups. She walked up to her husband and gave him a hug and a lingering kiss.
He said, “Well, Doll, we won’t make our fortune off my time machine.”
Mildred responded, “I don’t need a fortune. All I need is you. It’s getting late. Let’s go to bed.”
They walked up the stairs and put out the cellar lights. In the darkened corner stood the time machine which someday might serve a purpose, but not now. Of one thing we can be certain, this will not be Elmo’s last invention.
This concludes my novella, Elmo’s Invention. I hope you enjoyed it.
Next will come my published short stories followed by my published novella, Elmo’s Sojourn, which is a sequel to Elmo’s invention.
ELMO’S INVENTION X
THE TINKERER GOES INTO THE FUTURE
Kingsley talked to Elmo on the phone and agreed to come over and view the time machine the next day. The following night at 6:00PM sharp Kingsley showed up at the kitchen door, punctual as usual. Mildred had a steaming mug of coffee ready for him.
“Hello, Kingsley. Elmo is so excited to talk to you about his time machine. I’ll be honest with you Kingsley; I think it really does work but what kind of disruption it will cause in our lives I can only imagine. I just want a nice quiet life here in New Mexico.”
Kinsley said, “I’ll do my best to keep the existence of the machine quiet until Elmo and I have thought through the ramifications it might pose.”
Elmo appeared at the top of the cellar stairs and said, “Kingsley come quick. I want to demonstrate my time machine.”
“All right, Elmo, I’m coming.” Kingsley looked back at Mildred and she just stood there shaking her head.
Elmo led Kingsley down to the iron lung. “Kingsley, I found a loose wire and after consulting my wiring diagrams, I reattached it. And what do you know; it now works as a time machine.”
“How can you be sure, Elmo?”
“Why, I tested it and journeyed into the future. Now I’d like you to see the future.”
This caught Kingsley by surprise. “I don’t know, Elmo. What happens if it’s only a one-way trip?”
“That won’t happen. And even if it did, I’m only sending you to tomorrow morning. Trust me, Kingsley.”
He respected Elmo’s enthusiasm and love for science. After thinking to prospect of traveling into the future, Kingsley said, “Okay, Elmo, send me to tomorrow morning, but make sure you bring me back.”
Elmo smiled and said, “Don’t worry. It’s foolproof.”
Kingsley stared at Elmo.
Elmo opened the lid to the iron lung and had Kingsley climb in. Before he closed the lid he said, “First the chamber will fill with a dense mist. That’s normal. When the mist clears, I’d like you to go upstairs, open the kitchen door and pick up the paper. Bring the paper along with you when you get back into the chamber. You’ll be gone for a total of fifteen minutes.” Elmo closed the chamber and initiated the process. Soon Kingsley was lost in a cloud of mist.
Within the chamber Kingsley could see only the dense white fog which soon dissipated. He climbed out of the chamber and found that Elmo was no longer there. The light coming through the high cellar windows appeared to be different. It was a morning light. He went up the stairs and entered the kitchen. There stood Mildred in her bathrobe making breakfast. She had her back to him and when she turned she dropped her spatula and gave a little shriek and said, “Kingsley where did you come from and what are you doing here?”
Elmo sat at the kitchen table waiting for breakfast with a wide grin on his face.
Kingsley sheepishly replied, “Getting the paper.” This made no sense at all to Mildred. He looked at Elmo who had gone from grinning madly to laughing hysterically. Picking up the paper, he headed down stairs leaving a mystified Mildred and an hysterical Elmo.
The thing he wanted to check when he returned to the time machine was the paper’s date. Sure enough it was tomorrow’s date. This presented Kingsley with an eerie feeling of possessing knowledge he should not have. Rather, it was today’s date and today was tomorrow. Opening the lid of the chamber, he climbed in and settled down ready to go back to today or rather yesterday.
The chamber began to fill with a thick mist which soon cleared and there stood Elmo. He helped Kinsley out of the machine and the paper opening it up with great anticipation. There it was, tomorrow’s date. He slapped Kingsley on the back and said, “It works. It really works.”
Kingsley was lost in wonder at what Kingsley had accomplished. He built a machine that, until now, only existed in the realms of science fiction. He said, “Elmo, I’d like to keep this paper. There’s some thinking I must do about your startling device.
“Sure, keep it.”
Kingsley suggested, “Let’s get together in a day or two and discuss the potential impact your machine may have on everyday life. I’m sure you and Mildred do not want any more protests.”
“Sure Kingsley, sure. I’ll see you in a couple days.”
The next morning Elmo absently minded went out the kitchen door to get the paper as Mildred said, “Elmo, you won’t believe it but Kingsley already picked up our paper and went into the cellar.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” said Elmo and smiled broadly.
ELMO’S INVENTION IX
ELMO’S TIME MACHINE
Not long after his last visit, he stopped by Brooker’s farm after work.
“How you doing, Elmo?” He shouted as he exited one of his coops.
“Not bad,” Elmo responded. “Not bad.”
Brooker said, “I guess you come for more chicks. Got to tell you, son, this deal is saving me money on feed and such. Hope we can keep it going for a long time.”
Elmo thought about all the effort he put into constructing his machine, and all the grief he endured to find its purpose, and it all came down to raising chickens. He tried to mask his feelings and said, “It’s a pretty good deal, Brooker. A pretty good deal.”
Elmo accepted six chicks and made his way home, his heart full of failure wondering what went wrong. He arrived home, still in a funk, and Mildred met him at the door. She was all smiles. “Elmo, it looks like we’ll be getting a free chicken soon.”
Elmo gave his wife a wistful smile and went downstairs to his cellar lab. He loaded the chicks into his machine, set the length of time of aging to one year and the duration for one minute, and then pushed the button that would start the process. He stepped back, expecting the chamber to fill with mist and eventually see mature chickens, but nothing happened.
“Now what?” Elmo shouted in disbelief.
Not only had his time machine been reduced to raising chickens, now it wouldn’t work. He removed the chicks and went to get his wiring diagrams. Unscrewing a steel plate to gain access to the workings of the machine, he carefully began to probe searching for a fault.
After a short period of time he muttered, “Aha.” He had found a disconnected wire and immediately knew that must be the problem.
Elmo referred to his wiring diagram, and then back to the wire. He saw where the connection should be made, but to his surprise, that connection had never been completed. The wire had been soldered to a place it should not have been. His mind raced. Could this be why the invention did not fulfill its purpose? Elmo made the repair, reattached the panel and retrieved the chicks.
Elmo’s thoughts went wild as he placed the chicks in the chamber; reset the length of time to one year and the duration to one minute.
He pushed the start button.
The chamber filled with mist, and the quickly dissipated. The chicks were gone. A short time later they reappeared with no apparent change in age.
Elmo jumped for joy, shouting, “It works! It works!”
He next shouted, “Mildred, come quick!”
Mildred heard his initial exclamation. After Elmo beckoned her, she started for the cellar with great apprehension. Sometimes things went terribly wrong down there. She flashed back to her mother’s tea cups, wondering where they were now and if they still existed. She never knew what to expect at all when she was summoned down to Elmo’s lab. But she love Elmo and wanted to give him all the support she could – within reason.
When entering the cellar, Mildred found Elmo peering into his iron lung device. He turned and said to her, “Doll, it works, I think. It finally, really works.”
It was the ‘I think, that bothered Mildred.
“Watch”, he said to Mildred and repeated the experiment. Once again the chicks disappeared in a cloud and then reappeared in another white haze.
Milder muttered, “At least the chicks returned, unlike my tea cups.”
Elmo then related to his wife about the loose wire, his reference to the wiring diagram and his mistake in constructing his machine.
Mildred asked, “Is that the end of our free chickens”
The question caused Elmo to chuckle realizing his wife’s priorities, so much different from his own.
“I’m afraid so, my dear. But this is more important than chickens.
“Your teacups were part of a different experiment. The reason I called you down is to see if my experiment worked, to see if the chicks actually traveled in time.”
“Well, Elmo, how are you going to do that?”
After removing the chicks from the chamber, Elmo pushed a small stepstool in front of the iron lung.
Mildred said, “You’re not going to do what I think you’re going to do.”
“There is only one way, Doll, that I can think of to know if it really works. A person must be transported into the future and return and report on the experience.’
“I need your help. All the parameters are set. All you need to do is push this button to initiate the process.’
Mildred knew there would be no living with Elmo if she didn’t help, and if she didn’t help he would just get someone else. She mumbled, “All right, Elmo, but it’s the return part I’m worried about.” She added, “Remember the tea cups. What happens if you don’t come back?”
Before he closed the lid to the chamber, Elmo said, “That was a totally different type of experiment. But remember that every experiment has an element of uncertainty. That’s why they are called experiments.
“I have to know if my machine works, and I’m almost positive that it does. I need to do this to confirm that it does.”
With that Elmo closed the lid and indicated to Mildred to push the button. The chamber filled with a heavy white mist, and when it cleared Elmo was gone. After five minutes it once again filled with the blanketing mist. Once the chambered cleared, and much to Mildred’s delight, there laid Elmo with a huge grin on his face. He pushed open the lid and shouted, “It works! It works!” After all the hard work, disappointment and failure, his time machine finally worked.
“Mildred, I was talking to you fifteen minutes into the future down here in the cellar.”
“How can you know it was in the future, Elmo?”
“Well, for one thing, you don’t remember me talking to you since I entered the chamber.”
“You’re talking to me now, Elmo.”
“Well yes, but something happened while we were talking that will confirm my knowledge of the future.” Elmo waited another few moments and said, “Your roast is burning.”
Seconds later the first odors of burning roast filtered down to the cellar.
“Elmo, why didn’t you tell me earlier? I could have saved the roast.”
“And I would have changed the future.”
Mildred hurried up stairs in a huff. Seconds later there came a crash from the kitchen.
He said quietly, “And you’re going to burn your fingers and drop the roast. I forgot to mention that part.”
Elmo was anxious to share the fact that his time machine finally worked with someone in the scientific community. He immediately thought of notifying the Tinkerers Club, but that idea did not last long. The last time he consulted the club it ended in disaster when someone leaked the events of the meeting. The only tinkerer he trusted was Kingsley Dasher, and that’s who he would contact.
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