EQUATION for TIME

by R. R. WINTERBOTHAM

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Comet December 40.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]


There is no one today who has seen a living horse. The creature becameextinct a couple of centuries ago, about the year 2,800. Man, whobetrayed the horse into what he became, hardly regretted the passing.

However, and I speak with all sincerity, there will be men of thefuture who will see a horse. Perhaps men of the future may ridehorseback like knights and cowboys of the Middle Ages.

The secret of time travel has been discovered. No one has traveledthrough time as yet, although man has explored the universe for morethan twenty light years from the sun. But the day of time travel is notfar distant. It had simple beginnings. All great things began in simpleways. Newton and the apple were the beginnings of modern understandingof the laws of the physical world; Watts and the teakettle were theorigins of industry and the machine age. A very beautiful young womanand an unscrupulous man were responsible for time travel.

I met the man early in the morning of July 2, 3002. I remember thedate because on the day before I had visited in Alexandria, Egypt, andI had eaten dinner in Shanghai, China. It was nearly midnight when Ireached the rocket port in Chicago and a jam in the pneumatics delayedmy arrival home until nearly one o'clock in the morning.

Blake, fully dressed, met me at the door. There was a worried look inhis eyes.

"There is a gentleman to see you, sir," Blake said. "I explained thatyou would not return until quite late and I tried to get him to leave,but he said it was urgent that he see you the minute you returned."Blake glanced over his shoulder toward the library and lowered hisvoice to a whisper. "I was a little frightened of him, sir. He doesn'tseem quite—ah—quite right, sir, if you know what I mean. Shall I callthe police?"

"No, Blake." I felt confident of licking my weight in madmen and Ientered the library.

A tall, distinguished, dark haired gentleman rose to greet me.

"Ah! Dr. Huckins! I was afraid you would not get here in time!"

As he spoke I noticed a peculiar light in his eyes. It seemed to be areflection from the fluorescent lamps of the library, but it showed alittle too much of the whites of his eyes and I thought of what Blakehad said about the man not being "quite right."

I did not feel that I owed him an apology for keeping him waiting,since I usually received visitors by appointment.

"I am Gustav Keeshwar!" he introduced himself. He seemed to expect somereaction, but unfortunately the name meant nothing to me, although ifI had paid more attention to the newspapers I would have known who hewas at once.

"I am the president of the Stellar Transport Company," he announced.

As he spoke he glanced secretively about the room, as though he fearedan eavesdropper. Then he picked up a brief case which was lying on thetable. With no explanation he opened it and pulled out package afterpackage of thousand dollar bills.

"You may count it if you wish," Keeshwar said. "There are 1,000 bills,each of one thousand dollar denomination. One million dollars in coldcash."

There are any number of bank presidents who have never seen a milliondollars in one pile. Spread out before me, I could scarcely grasp theamount of wealth it represented. As I recall now, my clearest mentalreaction was a curiosity about how he managed to tuck it away so neatlyin a brief case. Then I wondered if it was real money. A closer glanceat the bills convinced me that it was.

Sudde

...

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