Collision with Chronos

Pouring his third cup of fragrant tea, he noted that the space-time-ship had now slipped through the sphincter. No doubt the Earth passengers it carried would be full of hysterical pleas for assistance and he foresaw a tiresome time ahead. Personally he had opposed offering Earth any help at all, on the grounds that it might involve the full capacity of the Production Retort and cause inconvenience, particularly with regard to delays in the delivery of equipment he had ordered for his own work. But the other members of the cabinet, out of some sort of filial respect for the planet where mankind had been bred, had disagreed with him.

The meter by his side informed him that the incoming ship had shut down its engines. He rose, beckoning his cybernetic servitors.

“The area is clear. Let us begin.”

The machines rolled across the work area to make final preparations. But Shiu Kung-Chien was interrupted yet again by a gentle introductory tone from the observatory’s entrance door. Into the observatory came the sedate figure of Prime Minister Hwen Wu.

“Welcome to my retreat, honoured colleague,” said Shiu Kung-Chien in a voice that bore just a trace of exasperation. “Your visit is connected, presumably, with the arrival of the ship from Earth.”

The other nodded. “One of the passengers, it seems, is a scientist of some repute – no less than the brain behind the Terrans’ recent discovery of time travel. He is hungry for knowledge. He’ll certainly demand to speak at length with you.”

Shiu Kung-Chien tugged at his beard and cursed. “So now I must waste my time conversing with barbarian dolts! Can you not give him someone else to vent his ignorance on? There are plenty of people adequate for that.”

Hwen Wu affected surprise. “Let us not be discourteous, Kung-Chien. I am told that, judging by the character of the man, he’ll insist on meeting our foremost expert in the field, and that is yourself.”

“Oh, very well. But can’t it wait? I’m in the middle of something important. I’m about to re-establish contact with the Oblique Entity.”

“Indeed?” Hwen Wu clasped his hands within his voluminous sleeves. “I thought it had passed out of range?”

“So it had, using former methods. But this new apparatus of mine uses the principle of direct, all-senses contact.”

“Is that not a trifle dangerous?” Hwen Wu inquired delicately.

Shiu Kung-Chien shrugged.

“There’s no particular hurry concerning the Earthman,” the Prime Minister admitted after a pause. “He still has to be put through language indoctrination. Would the experiment be compromised if I were to stay and …”

“Watch by all means,” Kung-Chien told him, “though there’ll be little to see.”

The servitors signalled that all was in readiness. Shiu Kung-Chien, Retort City’s greatest researcher into the phenomenon of time, entered a glassy sphere which, though transparent from the outside, encased its occupant in apparent darkness. He murmured something, his words being conveyed to the cybernetic controller.

Hwen Wu gazed placidly on the scene. He saw the scientist go rigid, as though suddenly paralysed. His eyes stared sightlessly, his ears were without sound, even his skin no longer felt the touch of his garments or the pressure of the floor under his feet. His body remained, but his senses – and therefore his mind – had been transferred hundreds of light-years away in a direction which no telescope could show: obliquely in time.

“What shall we do, Father?”

Ex-Minister Hueh Shao looked at Su-Mueng, realising with a pang what a handsome young man his son had become.

“Do?” he repeated in astonishment. “This is your enterprise. What did you intend?”

Su-Mueng answered lamely. “I had hoped for your guidance, Father. Perhaps we could escape from the city, go to Earth.”

“Hmm. Possibly, but I doubt it – and you obviously know nothing of the conditions there. We’d be unlikely to survive.”

No matter; that had been the lesser of Su-Mueng’s hopes. Vaguely, he had envisaged he and his father making a fight of it together. Suddenly getting over his initial stupefaction, he rose to the occasion and spoke with new resolve.

“Then return with me to the Production Retort. It’s honeycombed with little-used areas, deserted spaces. I’ll find a hideout for you there.”

“What, exchange one prison for another? Where’s the advantage in that?” The older man frowned.

“No, that’s not it.” Abruptly the real issue that lay before him crystallised in Su-Mueng’s mind; the heat of passion entered his voice. “There’s work to be done. We must work to overthrow the structure of society!”

His father stared at him as though he had gone mad. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he exclaimed in a shocked whisper.

“But isn’t that why you committed your crime and tried to save me from my fate?” Su-Mueng rejoindered. “Do you not feel the injustice of our way of life? One part of the population being forced to content itself with production, otherwise enjoying only crude entertainments, which the other part leeches off this work force?”