I simply wonder why its necessary to inflict even more of these idiotic
What we wish to determine, Dr. Thomas said frostily, is whether retrograde motion through time has deleterious effects on the human nervous system. Or, if you prefer me to put it in words of a single syllable
You wouldnt know how to, Sean said. But I assure you that my mind is still working properly. I could even spell retrograde for you. Maybe even deleterious. How about retrograde backward? That would be E-D-A-R-G
Dr. White put her hand lightly over Seans and said very quietly, We dont have any doubt that youre taking the shunt beautifully, Sean. But we do need quantitative data.We have to know things about your pulse rate, your reaction times, your automatic reflexes, et cetera, et cetera. It really is important. And this is practically our only chance to get it. The testing machines are set up to record everything quickly and automatically. Weve only got fifteen minutes, you know, before you go shunting off again into the future.
Throughout the entire life of the project Dr. White had been the cool, gentle voice of reason. Whenever anyone had started yellingand there had been plenty of that, as deadlines neared and everybodys nerves grew tautshe had always been the one to restore peace.
Once again Sean found it impossible to resist her calm, easy manner. With a sigh he said, All right, go ahead and test me.
He waited grimly for the onslaught of the blinking screens and whirling patterns and screaming sirens.
Might as well humor them, he thought. Dr. White was right that they wouldnt have many more chances to do this to him. The next time he came pastward, it would be at the minus-5×105-minutes level. That would be nearly a year ago. They probably would be expecting him then, and theyd have more tests ready. But the swing after that would bring him into the past at minus 5×107minutes. That would be the year 1921. Dr. Thomas wouldnt even have been born yet, nor even his parents. Maybe not even Dr. Thomass grandparents. He wasnt going to have to worry about Dr. Thomas or anybody else sitting him down in front of multiphasic testing machines in the year 1921.
9. Eric -5×104minutes
It was raining. Eric could hear the drumbeat of the drops hitting the roof of the single-story laboratory building. So this had to be March. The month before the experiment. It had rained practically every day in March, a torrential climax to the wettest winter Southern California had had in years, causing mudslides and other calamities all over the place. Then at the end of the month the sun had reappeared, and the weather had been dry and warm ever since, as it probably was going to be until the fall. There is hardly ever any rain in Southern California between April and November. But plenty of it was coming down right now.
The sound of the rain was beautiful in his ears. Maybe hillsides were turning to muck and goo out there and houses were floating off their foundations, but to Eric the pounding of those pelting drops was the sweetest music he could imagine. It told him that everything was still going according to plan.
He was fifty thousand minutes in the past. That was 833.3 hours. Or 34.72 days. They had drilled the arithmetic of the time journey into him until he could recite it in his sleep.
You jumped ten times as far on each shunt as on the one before. But you alternated a swing to the future with one to the past, so each time you returned to the past you landed a hundred times farther back than you had on the last jump. The same with the future. The early swings were very close together, but the hundred-fold factor kept multiplying.
So it was 8.33 hours back, and 83.3 hours forward, and then 833.3 hours back, and 8333.3 hours forward, and then 83,333.3 hours back, which worked out to 9.51 years into the past. Then 95.13 years forward. And then 951.3 years back. Then 9,513 years forward. And then 95,129.3 years back. And then 951,293.7 years forward. Then 9,512,937.5 years back. And then
And then the top of the pendulum swing, the swing to Time Ultimate, the effective limit of the experiment, at which point he would have been carried some 95 million years into the future and then an equal distance backback to the Cretaceous Periodback to the time of the dinosaurs
He listened joyfully to the beat of the rain. Thinking,Yes, carry me back, carry me back, let me look upon the dawn of time.
Eric? a voice said.
Right the first try.
Do you know what day this is?
Wednesday, March 16, 2016.
Yes. Yes, thats right. And what day is it for you?
Just a little bit past Time Zero. Tuesday, the nineteenth of April. At not quite eleven A.M.
They were staring at him that way that was getting to be so tiresomely familiar to himstaring as if they were looking at a ghost. Dr. Ludwig, Dr. White, Dr. Thomas, Dr. Mukherji, Dr. Camminella, and half a dozen more. The whole crew. They had a pale winter-time look about them and they were wearing heavier clothes than they had on when he had seen them a little while ago at Time Zero.
The lab was different, too. Everything was raw and half finished. Electrical conduits dangled in midair. The displacement cone was unshielded and the singularity cradles lay open and empty. Crates and cartons were scattered all about, still unpacked. A month and three days to go and they still had a ton of work to do, getting everything set up. But of course they were going to finish the job on schedule. There wasnt any doubt of that. His being here now was the proof of that.
The March rain drummed down in double time.
If you dont mind, Dr. Thomas said. There are some tests that wed like to administer
10. Sean + 5×104minutes
I know youre all waiting to stick the electrodes on my head and measure everything thats going on inside it, Sean said. But would it be okay if I stepped out into the fresh air for a moment? Ive still got a headache from the last batch of tests.
Still? Dr. Thomas asked. That was a month ago!
A month ago for you people, yes. For me the lights and bells are still blasting away.
Well, I supposefor just a few minutes.
Dont worry. I wont try to escape.
There was a little forced laughter at that. Even so, Terzunian and Mukherji went with him on his little excursion outside the lab. To look after him? Or to make sure he didnt bolt off into the night, fleeing Thomas and his dreaded multiphasic machines to enjoy a couple of hours of solitary jogging through the darkness?
It was gorgeous outside. The air was warm and sweet and gentle, and very clear. The moon was bright and the stars were sparkling. The vines on the laboratorys west wall were in bloom, great yellow flowers filling the air with wondrous fragrance. This was late May, one of the best months of the year, before the worst of the summer heat and the summer smog descended on the San Gabriel Valley.
He thought of poor Eric, back there in rainy March right at this moment, and smiled.
Okay, he said, filling his lungs as deeply as he could. I guess I can face those tests now.
11. Eric + 5×105minutes
The drumbeat sound of the rain ceased between one moment and the next. It was cut off sharply and suddenly, as if an audio tape had been abruptly sliced. Now Eric heard the chirping of birds and the chattering of grasshoppers instead. The warm golden brightness of a perfect Southern California afternoon came bursting in upon him with startling impact.
He realized that he had made another jump. He must be almost a year in the future this time. Half a million minutes beyond Time Zero347.2 days. This was March also, but March of a different year, March of 2017.
And he had landed outside the laboratory, on a broad lawn at the far west side of the campus. The time displacement was big enough now that some spatial displacement was occurring also. There were students all around him but nobody seemed to notice his arrival. Or care. Maybe by March of 2017 it was a common thing for time travelers to pop into being here and there around the campus.
Eric felt a heady sense of freedom. He was outdoors in the fresh air, away from Dr. Ludwig and the rest of the Project Pendulum crowd, for the first time inwhat? Weeks? Months? All that endless training, testing, rehearsinghe had felt like a rat in a cage, going around and around and around. But there were no Project Pendulum people anywhere in sight now. For however many hours it was until his next shunt, he could go where he pleased, do as he liked.
Watch it! someone yelled.
A gravity rotor came skimming by, zigzagging wildly up and down just above eye level. A tall, skinny undergraduate was running alongside it, trying to catch a ride. Eric got out of the way just in time. The student made a desperate lunge and grabbed the rotor just before it went lurching out of reach. It carried him a hundred yards or so through the air until it lost its spin and fluttered to the ground.
A pang of nostalgia went through him. It seemed like a million years since he had played with gravity rotors as a student on this same campus: though actually it was no more than three or four years ago.
Soon, he thought with a little shiver, he would be almost a million years away from his college days. And then a great deal more than that.
A slender blond girl keyed up the rotor again and let it fly. As it began to circle the lawn, Eric found himself suddenly loping after it. There were half a dozen students chasing it too, but he brushed them aside with a quick gesture. Easily, gracefully, he reached up and slipped his hands into the rotors holdfasts and let it spin him upward and outward across the campus. He had always been good with gravity rotors. He knew how to play into their axis of rotation so they would take him on a maximum glide.
Upup
Eric! Eric, have you gone crazy? a hoarse angry voice was shouting, far below.
He laughed and waved.
Come down from there, you lunatic! What do you think youre doing?
Havingsomefun he called, breathless with laughter.
Then he looked down. Half a dozen grim-faced Project members were wigwagging their arms wildly at him. As he went spinning past them, fifteen feet over their heads, he caught sight of Dr. Thomas, Dr. Mukherji, Terzunian, and a few others, staring at him in shock. Dr. Ludwig was running toward them from the general direction of the laboratory.
Regretfully he guided the gravity rotor into a down-spin and rode it to a landing.
What kind of absurd stunt was that? Dr. Ludwig blurted. Suppose you had broken your neck! What would happen to the project then?
Eric smiled. I wouldnt have gotten hurt, he said serenely. Its impossible. How could anything happen to me? Im not really here, remember? Im still back there at Time Zero sitting on the shunt platform. And at an infinite number of other places between there and Time Ultimate, all at once. So whats the harm in my taking a little ride?
Idiot! Dr. Ludwig blazed. Imbecile! Eric had never seen him so furious. Im not really here? what are you talking about? Who put such nonsense into your head?
The mathematical model Eric stammered. Sean explained to me that
Sean! That other maniac! Dr. Ludwig clenched his fists and shook them in frustration. In a tightly controlled voice he said, Listen to me, Eric, and listen carefully. You are on a pendulum, yes, and you do occupy every point between Time Zero and Time Ultimate. But you can still be harmed at any point in that entire sequence of nearly two hundred million years. And if you areif you are He looked ready to explode. The past is fluid! The future is yet unborn! Anything can be changed! Anything! Who knows what will befall the entire history of the world, if anything happens to you? Who knows?
12. Sean -5×105minutes
Without warning the mild May night gave way to a glorious May morningMay of the year before. Sean was back in 2015, 347.2 days before the beginning of the experiment.
He stood blinking in the sudden sunlight. The shunts were coming much more easily now, causing little or no sense of transition as he shuttled between past and future. He was outside the laboratory. Outside the campus, in fact, half a mile or so east of it in downtown Pasadena. The first significant spatial displacement, he realized. The early shunts had moved him no more than a few inches from his Time Zero position on the shunt platform, but by now the jumps were getting big enough to carry him a fair distance.
Casually he strolled down Colorado Boulevard, heading east.
It surprised him that nobody from the lab was waiting here to meet him when he arrived. Up till now they hadnt allowed him to be alone for a moment. At each of his previous shuntsplus five minutes, minus fifty minutes, plus five hundred minutes, minus five thousand minutes, plus fifty thousand minutesthey had clustered around him as soon as he showed up. Now here he was half a million minutes in the past and they had left him completely on his own. Why werent they here?
Then he realized that at this stage of the project, back in May of 2015, he and Eric hadnt even been selected yet to be the experimental subjects. The preliminary screening interviews were still going on, all that interminable testing and questioning and checking.
So as of this moment the Project Pendulum people didnt even know who they were going to be sending on the shunt, let alone what time of day or month their time-travelers were going to be turning up in the past. How could they? Time Zero itself had kept getting postponed again and again. The choice of April 19 at half past ten in the morning as the final-final day and hour and minute for the departure point hadnt been nailed down until the third of March, just six weeks before the day of the experiment.
And even after they had picked it, the Project people would still have had somehow to send information back to themselves of the year before, notifying themselves that experimental subject Sean Gabrielson was due to be popping out of nowhere in downtown Pasadena at such-and-such a time of the morning on such-and-such a day in May, 2015, which would be precisely 347.2 days prior to the beginning of the great time-travel event.
Probably they could have done it by sending off a preliminary shunt carrying a robot with the schedule. Maybe they should have done it, on the theory that it was best not to let their time-traveler have to fend for himself back here. But Project Pendulums funds had been running pretty low in the final few weeks. Most likely there hadnt been any slack in the budget for extras like that. So they hadnt been able to send the word to anyone back here in 2015 that hed be coming this way.
But he could.
Sean grinned slyly. He was tempted to saunter over to the Cal Tech campus right now and drop in at the laboratory.
Hi, he would say. Im Sean Gabrielson. Youre going to pick me next month for the shunt. Lets all take an hour off and go out for some pizza, okay?
He could do that, sure. But suppose they didnt like his dropping in like that. Suppose it struck them as a cocky smartass sort of thing to do. Suppose they decided to dispense with the Gabrielson twins entirely, and pick a different pair of candidates for the shunt. What then? What would happen to him, back here in 2015? Out like a snuffed candle, thats what. Hed never get to see the far future or the distant past, or anything else. Hed go right back to being a graduate physics student in the year 2016 and hed have no memory of any of the shunts hed already experienced, let alone the ones that were still to come.
He didnt want to risk that.
But there was something he could do. It carried some paradox risk also, but he thought it was relatively safe. And useful, in a manner of speaking. And fun.
He thought back to last year, to the final few weeks before the names of the successful candidates for the shunt were announced. Six different pairs of twins had been in the running. Sean had figured all along that he and Eric had the best shot, because they wanted a physicist and a paleontologist, and he and Eric were the only ones who really fulfilled that requirement. But toward the end he had begun to think that the choice might land on one of the other sets of twins. Those shy Bengali girls, the Chakravarti sisters, maybe. They were mathematicians, but one had some sort of a background in archaeology. They were very, very bright. And, most important of all, they had the backing of their countryman, the Project Pendulum theoretician Dr. Mukherji.
Right before the choice was due to be announced, Sean had absolutely convinced himself that it was going to be the Chakravartis. He could already feel the disappointment seeping into his soul, and knew that it would embitter him for the rest of his life. A chance to travel to the ends of time, and it had slipped away from him! For days he could hardly sleep or eat. He was half crazy with tension most of the time, snapping and snarling at everybody.
Well, now that he was back here again at the time when that had been going on, he could spare himself all that anguish, couldnt he? Tell himself not to worry, let himself know that everything was going to turn out fine?
A phone booth loomed before him at the corner of Colorado and Fair Oaks. He stepped inside and pressed his thumb to the identification plate. The telephone asked him for the number he wanted and he gave his own.
The line is busy, the telephone told him.
Break in on him. This is an emergency.
One moment, please.
Then his own voice said irritably, All right, but if this is any kind of sales pitch
Dont worry, fellow. Its a legitimate call, Sean said.
Whos there?
You mean you dont recognize my voice?
A pause. Ricky?
Close. Try again.
Look, Ive got no time for guessing games. I happen to be in the midst of very important
Sure you are. I know that. Listen, dope, youre talking to Sean Gabrielson.
What?
Sean2, lets say. Im just passing through.
What?
On my way to the year 2025. And then back to 1921.
What? What?
Maybe you arent as bright as they say you are, buddy. If all you can do is honk like a duck.
Hey, I dont have to listen to this kind of crazy came the angry voice from the speaker grille, and then the CONNECTION INTERRUPTED light went on.
Call him back, Sean told the phone.
The line is busy.
Break in on him, then.
The line is under privacy seal, said the telephone.
Sean swore and shook his head. Tell him its a family emergency.
The line is under privacy seal, the phone repeated.
I know that. Doesnt family emergency take priority?
The line is under privacy seal, said the phone once more.
All right, Sean grunted. Forget it.
For a moment he considered grabbing a cab and going out to his place near the beach to confront himself face to face. But he decided against it. If Sean, was so twitchy and strung out that he couldnt figure out who had been calling him, he deserved to go on sweating a little while longer about who was going to get the nod for Project Pendulum. Sure, Sean thought. The hell with him. Let him keep on worrying another few weeks. The dummy. Let him just keep right on worrying.
13. Eric -5×106minutes
He could see the house, halfway down the block on the other side of the street. It looked smaller than he recalled, and the pink stucco badly needed repainting. The big palm tree in front was leaning way over, with its roots pulled halfway out of the ground. The earthquake had done that, he remembered. He could see the earthquake crack along the front wall of the house, too. A raw gully like an open trench ran for a hundred yards down the middle of the street. The quake must have come just a couple of days before. They hadnt had a chance to do much cleaning up yet.
The quake, the big Santa Monica earthquake, had happened right at the beginning of October, 2006, his freshman year in high school. So once again the shunt had brought him in smack on target, carrying him back exactly 9.51 years. From April of 2016 to October of 2006yes, just right. Here he was. Nine and a half years in the past. And actually in his own teenage neighborhood.
That part of it was hard to believe. The shunt had dumped him down in the middle of Santa Monica, at the corner of Wilshire and Eighteenth. His old territory. No more than a five-minute walk from the house where he and Sean had lived from the time they were ten until they went to college. So of course he had to go over to have a look at it. And maybe to catch a glimpse of his own younger self. Of course.
Now, standing across the street from the pink stucco house, Eric found himself wondering if it was such a hot idea to be poking around in his own past like this. Suddenly it didnt feel really good.
Not just stirring up the earthquake memoriesthe jolt in the middle of the night, dogs barking, the sound of dishes breaking, frightened people running out into the streets. He would have expected that bringing it all vividly back to mind would be disturbing, and it was.
But what was even more troublesome was simply revisiting the ordinary memories, the routine day-by-day stuff. The world of 2006 looked a lot less glamorous than Eric remembered, earthquake damage aside. Everything seemed shabbier and more seedy than he expected. The shops out on Wilshire, the cars in the streets, the advertising billboardsit all was run-down, everything had a dreary, old-fashioned look.
Would things really be so much sleeker and shinier nine and a half years down the line? Maybe so. Or maybe over the years he had simply polished up his memories until the past had a much brighter gloss in his mind than it ever had had in reality.
And then there was all the other stuff to think about again, the adolescent stuff, the business of crossing the line from boyhood into manhood. The changes happening in his body. The conflicts with Seanhe and Sean were always battling like fiends in those days, the good old sibling rivalry, five times as fierce because they were identical twins. Sean was fifteen minutes older and he liked to make a big deal about that. And then too the unfocused ambitions, wanting to do something great when he grew up but not having any idea what it would be. The shy, hesitant encounters with girls. Eric had filed all those things away deep within himself. Now, at twenty-three, he wasnt at all sure he wanted to come face-to-face with them again. It might be better, he thought, to turn around right now and walk quickly the other way.
But he stayed where he was, watching the little pink house across the street and hoping that nobody was watching him.
The upstairs room on the left: that one was his. A poster was taped in the window, probably the dinosaur poster from the County Museum. There was a big plaster-of-paris triceratops on the front lawn too, a pretty crude job but not really awful. The summer he was twelve he had spent a messy few days making that. As far back as he could remember, he had been absolutely nuts about dinosaurs. His ambition was to go out to Wyoming and dig up the biggest one ever found. Sean had laughed at that. Sure, he said. Theyll call it Ericosaurus supergigantus.
Everybody said it was a phase he was bound to grow out of when he was a little older, but he didnt. Instead he got deeper into it, paleontology and geology, too. He studied the folds and strata of the rocks in which fossils were found, though it was always the fossils themselves that fascinated him the most. He could remember feverishly packing his little collection of trilobites and ammonites into a suitcase in the first terrifying minutes after the earthquake, back here when he was thirteen, so that he wouldnt lose them in case a second shock struck and destroyed the house. And then
Whos that?
A boy had come out of the house and was standing on the little porch, looking around in wonder and dismay at the earthquake debris in the street. Eric stepped back into the shadows. The boy was short and thin, with straight sandy hair going off wildly in all directions. He had to be thirteen and a half, but to Eric he seemed much younger. His face was smooth and bland-looking and had a strange unfinished look about it.
That must be Sean, Eric thought.
Nowait
He wasnt sure. Of all the strange things that had happened to him since the pendulum had begun to swing, this was the strangest, that he should be staring at this boy and not know whether he was seeing his brother or himself. It was absolutely impossible to tell. Time had not yet carved the adult face of this boy out of the raw material of early adolescence. His nose was just a snub and his mouth and lower jaw had that unfinished look. And at this age he and Sean must have looked much more alike than they would later. Perhaps if both twins were standing side by side on the porch, he might be able to guess which one was Eric and which Sean. But as it was he was baffled.
It was almost frightening to have time swallow his identity-like that. Simply being a twin is complicated enough. But when you start losing track of which twin you are
Then the boy came down the three cracked steps to the lawn. Pausing by the plaster-of-paris triceratops, he grinned and stroked its long crooked horns for a moment in an unmistakably affectionate way. Eric, watching from a distance, grinned also.
No doubt of it now. That boy had to be his own younger self. He felt a shiver go sliding down his spine.
Go on, he told himself. Walk across the street. Introduce yourself to him.
He imagined half a dozen impossible things that he could say.
Hi, there. Youre not going to believe this, but Im you of the year 2016, taking part in the first time-travel experiment ever.
Or: Im here to tell you not to worry about a thing. I know youre uneasy about all sorts of stuff that you know lies ahead of you, but I can guarantee that everythings going to turn out just fine for you when you grow up.
Or maybe: Theres going to be a girl named Carla in your junior year of high school that likes you a whole lot better than she does Sean, but youre going to convince yourself that its the other way around. Youll be wrong about that. Invite her to the prom before he does.
Or: The winner of this years World Series will be
Or: Your friend Charlie Graham is going to invite you to fly to Phoenix for Christmas with him and his family in his fathers plane this year. Dad wont let you go. Be absolutely sure you dont do anything to change his mind, because that planes going to get caught in a freak lightning storm, and
Or: You and Sean are both going to go to Cal Tech four years from now. People are going to try to talk you into going to Harvard or Stanford instead, because they think you and Sean shouldnt go to the same college. Dont listen to them. Go to Cal Tech, or else you may change your entire future and miss out on the best thing thats ever going to happen to you.
Or
But he didnt say any of those things. Instead he stayed on his side of the street and hung back in the shadows, watching his younger self emerge from the yard of the little pink house, peer into the mailbox for a moment, pause to pull a huge red flower from the hibiscus bush on the frontwalk, and go running off toward Wilshire. Eric smiled. He waved at the small retreating figure. And thought:You dont need any special tips on the future, boy. Just do whatever feels right to you. Youll make some mistakes, but thats no crime. And one of these days youll grow up and youll be me, and youll go off on the damndest wild trip that anybody in the whole history of the human race ever took.