Ryan lit a cigarette slowly. ‘Go on.’
It all came with a rush. ‘More real than anything else! Like looking through a window. A window into another world. A real world. Much more real than this. It makes all this just a shadow world. Only dim shadows. Shapes. Images.’
‘Shadows of an ultimate reality?’
‘Yes! Exactly. The world behind all this.’ Jon paced back and forth, animated by excitement. ‘This, all these things. What we see here. Buildings. The sky. The cities. The endless ash. None is quite real. It’s so dim and vague! I don’t really feel it, not like the other. And it’s becoming less real, all the time. The other is growing, Ryan. Growing more and more vivid! Grant told me it’s only my imagination. But it’s not. It’s real. More real than any of these things here, these things in this room.’
‘Then why can’t we all see it?’
‘I don’t know. I wish you could. You ought to see it, Ryan. It’s beautiful. You’d like it, after you got used to it. It takes time to adjust.’
Ryan considered. ‘Tell me,’ he said at last. ‘I want to know exactly what you see. Do you always see the same thing?’
‘Yes. Always the same. But more intensely.’
‘What is it? What do you see that’s so real?’
Jon did not answer for awhile. He seemed to have withdrawn. Ryan waited, watching his son. What was going on in his mind? What was he thinking? The boy’s eyes were shut again. His hands were pressed together, the fingers white. He was off again, off in his private world.
‘Go on,’ Ryan said aloud.
So it was visions the boy saw. Visions of ultimate reality. Like the Middle Ages. His own son. There was a grim irony in it. Just when it seemed they had finally licked that proclivity in man, his eternal inability to face reality. His eternal dreaming. Would science never be able to realize its ideal? Would man always go on preferring illusion to reality?
His own son. Retrogression. A thousand years lost. Ghosts and gods and devils and the secret inner world. The world of ultimate reality. All the fables and fictions and metaphysics that man had used for centuries to compensate for his fear, his terror of the world. All the dreams he had made up to hide the truth, the harsh world of reality. Myths, religions, fairy tales. A better land, beyond and above. Paradise. All coming back, reappearing again, and in his own son.
‘Go on,’ Ryan said impatiently. ‘What do you see?’
‘I see fields,’ Jon said. ‘Yellow fields as bright as the sun. Fields and parks. Endless parks. Green, mixed in with the yellow. Paths, for people to walk.’
‘What else?’
‘Men and women. In robes. Walking along the paths, among the trees. The air fresh and sweet. The sky bright blue. Birds. Animals. Animals moving through the parks. Butterflies. Oceans. Lapping oceans of clear water.’
‘No cities?’
‘Not like our cities. Not the same. People living in the parks. Little wood houses here and there. Among the trees.’
‘Roads?’
‘Only paths. No ships or anything. Only walking.’
‘What else do you see?’
‘That’s all.’ Jon opened his eyes. His cheeks were flushed. His eyes sparkled and danced. ‘That’s all, Ryan. Parks and yellow fields. Men and women in robes. And so many animals. The wonderful animals.’
‘How do they live?’
‘What?’
‘How do the people live? What keeps them alive?’
‘They grow things. In the fields.’
‘Is that all? Don’t they build? Don’t they have factories?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘An agrarian society. Primitive.’ Ryan frowned. ‘No business or commerce.’
‘They work in the fields. And discuss things.’
‘Can you hear them?’
‘Very faintly. Sometimes I can hear them a little, if I listen very hard. I can’t make out any words, though.’
‘What are they discussing?’
‘Things.’
‘What kind of things?’
Jon gestured vaguely. ‘Great things. The world. The universe.’
There was silence. Ryan grunted. He did not say anything. Finally he put out his cigarette. ‘Jon—’
‘Yes?’
‘You think what you see is real?’
Jon smiled. ‘I know it’s real.’
Ryan’s gaze was sharp. ‘What do you mean, real? In what way is this world of yours real?’
‘It exists.’
‘Where does it exist?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Here? Does it exist here?’
‘No. It’s not here.’
‘Some place else? A long way off? Some other part of the universe beyond our range of experience?’
‘Not another part of the universe. It has nothing to do with space. It’s here.’ Jon waved around him. ‘Close by. It’s very close. I see it all around me.’
‘Do you see it now?’
‘No. It comes and goes.’
‘It ceases to exist? It only exists sometimes?’
‘No, it’s always there. But I can’t always make contact with it.’
‘How do you know it’s always there?’
‘I just know.’
‘Why can’t I see it? Why are you the only one who can see it?’
‘I don’t know.’ Jon rubbed his forehead wearily. ‘I don’t know why I’m the only one who can see it. I wish you could see it. I wish everybody could see it.’
‘How can you demonstrate it isn’t an hallucination? You have no objective validation of it. You have only your own inner sense, your state of consciousness. How could it be presented for empirical analysis?’
‘Maybe it can’t. I don’t know. I don’t care. I don’t want to present it for empirical analysis.’
There was silence. Jon’s face was set and grim, his jaw tight. Ryan sighed. Impasse.
‘All right, Jon.’ He moved slowly toward the door. ‘I’ll see you later.’
Jon said nothing.
At the door Ryan halted, looking back. ‘Then your visions are getting stronger, aren’t they? Progressively more vivid.’
Jon nodded curtly.
Ryan considered awhile. Finally he raised his hand. The door slid away and he passed outside the room, into the hall.
Grant came up to him. ‘I was watching through the window. He’s quite withdrawn, isn’t he?’
‘It’s difficult to talk to him. He seems to believe these attacks are some kind of vision.’
‘I know. He’s told me.’
‘Why didn’t you let me know?’
‘I didn’t want to alarm you more. I know you’ve been worried about him.’
‘The attacks are getting worse. He says they’re more vivid. More convincing.’
Grant nodded.
Ryan moved along the corridor, deep in thought, Grant a little behind. ‘It’s difficult to be certain of the best course of action. The attacks absorb him more and more. He’s beginning to take them seriously. They’re usurping the place of the outside world. And in addition—’
‘And in addition you’re leaving soon.’
‘I wish we knew more about time travel. A great number of things may happen to us.’ Ryan rubbed his jaw. ‘We might not come back. Time is a potent force. No real exploration has been done. We have no idea what we may run into.’
He came to the lift and stopped.
‘I’ll have to make my decision right away. It has to be made before we leave.’
‘Your decision?’
Ryan entered the lift. ‘You’ll know about it later. Watch Jon constantly from now on. Don’t be away from him for even a moment. Do you understand?’
Grant nodded. ‘I understand. You want to be sure he doesn’t leave his room.’
‘You’ll hear from me either tonight or tomorrow.’ Ryan ascended to the roof and entered his inter-city ship.
As soon as he was in the sky he clicked on the vidscreen a
nd dialed the League Offices. The face of the League Monitor appeared. ‘Offices.’
‘Give me the medical center.’
The monitor faded. Presently Walter Timmer, the medical director, appeared on the screen. His eyes flickered as he recognized Ryan. ‘What can I do for you, Caleb?’
‘I want you to get out a medical car and a few good men and come over here to City Four.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s a matter I discussed with you several months ago. You recall, I think.’
Timmer’s expression changed. ‘Your son?’
‘I’ve decided. I can’t wait any longer. He’s getting worse, and we’ll be leaving soon on the time trip. I want it performed before I leave.’
‘All right.’ Timmer made a note. ‘We’ll make immediate arrangements here. And we’ll send a ship over to pick him up at once.’
Ryan hesitated. ‘You’ll do a good job?’
‘Of course. We’ll have James Pryor perform the actual operation.’ Timmer reached up to cut the vidscreen circuit. ‘Don’t worry, Caleb. He’ll do a good job. Pryor is the best lobotomist the center has.’
Ryan laid out the map, stretching the corners flat against the table. ‘This is a time map, drawn up in the form of a space projection. So we can see where we’re going.’
Kastner peered over his shoulder. ‘Will we be confined to the one Project - getting Schonerman’s papers? Or can we move around?’
‘Only the one Project is contemplated. But to be certain of success we should make several stops on this side of Schonerman’s continuum. Our time map may be inaccurate, or the drive itself may act with some bias.’
The work was finished. All the final sections were put in place.
In a corner of the room Jon sat watching, his face expressionless. Ryan glanced toward him. ‘How does it look to you?’
‘Fine.’
The time ship was like some stubby insect, overgrown with warts and knobs. A square box with windows and endless turrets. Not really a ship at all.
‘I guess you wish you could come,’ Kastner said to Jon. ‘Right?’
Jon nodded faintly.
‘How are you feeling?’ Ryan asked him.
‘Fine.’
Ryan studied his son. The boy’s color had come back. He had regained most of his original vitality. The visions, of course, no longer existed.
‘Maybe you can come next time,’ Kastner said.
Ryan returned to the map. ‘Schonerman did most of his work between 2030 and 2037. The results were not put to any use until several years later. The decision to use his work in the war was reached only after long consideration. The Governments seemed to have been aware of the dangers.’
‘But not sufficiently so.’
‘No.’ Ryan hesitated. ‘And we may be getting ourselves into the same situation.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Schonerman’s discovery of the artificial brain was lost when the last claw was destroyed. None of us have been able to duplicate his work. If we bring his papers we may put society back in jeopardy. We may bring back the claws.’
Kastner shook his head. ‘No. Schonerman’s work was not implicitly related to the claws. The development of an artificial brain does not imply lethal usage. Any scientific discovery can be used for destruction. Even the wheel was used in the Assyrian war chariots.’
‘I suppose so.’ Ryan glanced up at Kastner. ‘Are you certain USIC doesn’t intend to use Schonerman’s work along military lines?’
‘USIC is an industrial combine. Not a government.’
‘It would ensure its advantage for a long time.’
‘USIC is strong enough as it is.’
‘Let it go.’ Ryan rolled up the map. ‘We can start any minute. I’m anxious to get going. We’ve worked a long time on this.’
‘I agree.’
Ryan crossed the room to his soon. ‘We’re leaving, Jon. We should be back fairly soon. Wish us luck.’
Jon nodded. ‘I wish you luck.’
‘You’re feeling all right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Jon - you feel better now, don’t you? Better than before?’
‘Yes.’
‘Aren’t you glad they’re gone? All the troubles you were having?’
‘Yes.’
Ryan put his hand awkwardly on the boy’s shoulder. ‘We’ll see you later.’
Ryan and Kastner made their way up the ramp to the hatch of the time ship. From the corner, Jon watched them silently. A few League Guards lounged at the entrances to the work lab, watching with idle interest.
Ryan paused at the hatch. He called one of the guards over. ‘Tell Timmer I want him.’
The guard went off, pushing through the exit.
‘What is it?’ Kastner said.
‘I have some final instructions to give him.’
Kastner shot him a sharp glance. ‘Final? What’s the matter? You think something’s going to happen to us?’
‘No. Just a precaution.’
Timmer came striding in. ‘You’re leaving, Ryan?’
‘Everything’s ready. There’s no reason to hold back any longer.’
Timmer came up the ramp. ‘What did you want me for?’
‘This may be unnecessary. But there’s always the possibility something might go wrong. In case the ship doesn’t reappear according to schedule I’ve filed with the League members—’
‘You want me to name a protector for Jon.’
‘That’s right.’
‘There’s nothing to worry about.’
‘I know. But I’d feel better. Someone should watch out for him.’
They both glanced at the silent, expressionless boy sitting in the corner of the room. Jon stared straight ahead. His face was blank. His eyes were dull, listless. There was nothing there.
‘Good luck,’ Timmer said. He and Ryan shook hands. ‘I hope everything works out.’
Kastner climbed inside the ship, setting down his briefcase. Ryan followed him, lowering the hatch into place and bolting it into position. He sealed the inner lock. A bank of automatic lighting came on. Controlled atmosphere began to hiss into the cabin of the ship.
‘Air, light, heat,’ Kastner said. He peered out the port at the League Guards outside. ‘It’s hard to believe. In a few minutes all this will disappear. This building. These guards. Everything.’
Ryan seated himself at the control board of the ship, spreading out the time map. He fastened the map into position, crossing the surface with the cable leads from the board before him. ‘It’s my plan to make several observation stops along the way, so we can view some of the past events relevant to our work.’
‘The war?’
‘Mainly. I’m interested in seeing the claws in actual operation. At one time they were in complete control of Terra, according to the War Office records.’
‘Let’s not get too close, Ryan.’
Ryan laughed. ‘We won’t land. We’ll make our observations from the air. The only actual contact we’ll make will be with Schonerman.’
Ryan closed the power circuit. Energy flowed through the ship around them, flooding into the meters and indicators on the control board. Needles jumped, registering the load.
‘The main thing we have to watch is our energy peak,’ Ryan explained. ‘If we build up too much of a load of time ergs the ship won’t be able to come out of the time stream. We’ll keep moving back into the past, building up a greater and greater charge.’
‘An enormous bomb.’
‘That’s right.’ Ryan adjusted the switches before him. The meter readings changed. ‘Here we go. Better hang on.’
He released the controls. The ship shuddered as it polarized into position, easing into the time flow. The vanes and knobs changed their settings, adjusting themselves to the stress. Relays closed, braking the ship against the current sweeping around them.
‘Like the ocean,’ Ryan murmured. ‘The most potent energy in the universe. The gr
eat dynamic behind all motion. The Prime Mover.’
‘Maybe this is what they used to mean by God.’
Ryan nodded. The ship was vibrating around them. They were in the grip of a giant hand, an immense fist closing silently. They were in motion. Through the port the men and walls had begun to waver, fading out of existence as the ship slipped out of phase with the present, drifting farther and farther into the flow of the time stream.
‘It won’t be long,’ Ryan murmured.
All at once the scene beyond the port winked out. There was nothing there. Nothing beyond them.
‘We’ve not phased with any space-time objects,’ Ryan explained. ‘We’re out of focus with the universe itself. At this moment we exist in non-time. There’s no continuum in which we’re operating.’
‘I hope we can get back again.’ Kastner sat down nervously, his eyes on the blank port. ‘I feel like the first man who went down in a submarine.’
‘That was during the American Revolution. The submarine was propelled by a crank which the pilot turned. The other end of the crank was a propeller.’
‘How could he go very far?’
‘He didn’t. He cranked his ship under a British frigate and then bored a hole in the frigate’s hull.’
Kastner glanced up at the hull of the time ship, vibrating and rattling from stress. ‘What would happen if this ship should break open?’
‘We’d be atomized. Dissolved into the stream around us.’ Ryan lit a cigarette. ‘We’d become a part of the time flow. We’d move back and forth endlessly, from one end of the universe to the other.’
‘End?’
‘The time ends. Time flows both ways. Right now we’re moving back. But energy must move both ways to keep a balance. Otherwise time ergs in vast amounts would collect at one particular continuum and the result would be catastrophic.’
‘Do you suppose there’s some purpose behind all of this? I wonder how the time flow ever got started.’
‘Your question is meaningless. Questions of purpose have no objective validity. They can’t be subjected to any form of empirical investigation.’
Kastner lapsed into silence. He picked at his sleeve nervously, watching the port.
Across the time map the cable arms moved, tracing a line from the present back into the past. Ryan studied the motion of the arms. ‘We’re reaching the latter part of the war. The final stages. I’m going to rephase the ship and bring it out of the time flow.’