Collision with Chronos

But now the marker was quivering and behaving erratically, first darting toward the zero and then retreating from it. “Without that register we’ll find it difficult to synchronise back into ‘now’,” the pilot warned.

“Malfunctioning, hell, it must be in order,” Ascar growled.

“It gives impossible readings,” the Titan corrected meticulously. “It’s obviously an instrument failure.”

Ascar froze for a moment. “Not impossible,” he said slowly. “It’s detecting the presence of real time, but not strongly enough for it to be absolute time. Hell, we ourselves carry a small fragment of time with us – as does every other time traveller!”

He stepped to a window and tuned it to near-transparency, peered through it briefly and then crossed the cabin to do the same on the other side. There, pacing them so as to stand out steadily against the kaleidoscope-like flurry, was a cylindrical shape rounded at both ends.

It duplicated perfectly the alien time traveller that had been shown to Heshke on film.

Cautiously he released his straps and joined Ascar at the window, peering fascinated through the glowing pane. He became aware that behind the dulled windows of the alien traveller there were undoubtedly eyes, alien eyes, that were watching them.

“Great Mother Earth!” one of the Titans swore softly.

Ascar swung around. “For God’s sake man – don’t let them track us to the Research Centre!”

The Titan understood him perfectly. “Back to your seats!” he ordered. But Heshke was still not secured properly when the traveller gave a sickening lurch and raced off into whatever other direction might conceivably exist – Heshke was confused on that point for the moment. He just saved himself from being toppled onto the floor and fastened the straps.

The Absolute Present register was flaring more brightly. “We shall synchronise with the present on a distant part of Earth, and make our way from there to the Centre by conventional means,” the Titan announced. “By that means we may hope to evade alien detection.”

“No,” said Ascar. “Keep going.”

“What for?” the other said sharply. “Our orders are to return to the Centre forthwith!”

“Keep going – on into the future.” Ascar’s voice was trembling with excitement. “There’s something I have to find out,” he said. “Something we all have to find out. So keep going!”

The pilot glanced over his shoulder, perturbed – as Heshke was – to see the physicist so in the grip of passion. “Are you suggesting that we depart from the flight plan, Citizen? That can not be allowed! Any suggestions you may have will have to be put before the controllers.”

“Yes, Titan ideologues who can’t see the facts even when they’re held up in front of their faces!” Ascar snarled, apparently in fury. “They’ll delay, delay, delay – by then it might be too late! Mankind will be finished!”

Ascar had again stood up. Heshke was alarmed to see that he had produced a gun from somewhere in his combat suit. With a cry Heshke also scrambled free of his straps and staggered forward, recklessly intending to tackle him. But at that moment Ascar lunged, seizing a handgrip on the control panel and swinging it far over. The time traveller accelerated wildly and overshot the Absolute Present to hurtle wildly futureward. The accompanying jolt sent Heshke reeling. He fell, hit his head violently against the arm of a chair, and blackness overwhelmed him.

He came round to find himself back in his seat, lolling against the straps. His head ached abominably. But the pain was soon forgotten in the horror and shock of what he saw.

The co-pilot was lying against one wall, evidently dead. The other Titan was disarmed and stood against the opposite wall, warily watching Ascar who was nonchalantly piloting the time traveller while keeping an eye on him.

“Uh – what happened?” Heshke rasped.

Ascar spared him a glance. “Welcome back. I’m afraid there was a scuffle. Lieutenant Hosk got shot. Wasn’t really my fault.” He spoke the last in a surly mumble

Heshke paused. “And the alien time traveller?”

“We lost it.” Ascar gave a tight, sinister grin. “I’ve been pushing this ship to its limit – close to a hundred and fifty years per hour.”

The words “You’re mad” died in Heshke’s throat.

“Where are we now?”

“Nearly four hundred years in the future.”

Heshke lay back in his seat, trying to fight off a feeling of hopelessness. Ascar’s mind had evidently snapped under the strain. He and the pilot would have to be patient and await their chance to overwhelm him.

“The future? What do you expect to find there?” he asked, stumbling over the words. “You said yourself it’s all dead and empty.”

“The facts are staring us in the face,” Ascar replied. “That’s the mark of the true scientist, isn’t it, Heshke? To take facts as facts even if they conflict with theory, and draw the most obvious deductions from them. That’s what we’ve been failing to do.”

“What facts are those?” Heshke glanced nervously at the Titan, who was watching Ascar warily.