Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net And Gone Tomorrow BY ANDY OFFUT [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, December 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] * * * * * THE $1000 PRIZE WINNING STORY in IF's College Science Fiction Contest _Here is the best story submitted in answer to the theme question: "What Will Life in America Be Like 100 Years From Now?" ... Written by an undergraduate at the University of Louisville, Louisville, Kentucky, it pictures the America of 2054 as part of a world empire run by an Italian dictator and very similar to that of the ancient Caesars and the early Roman Empire. There is one language, one religion and customs and laws have changed to suit the times. But, basically, human nature hasn't changed and there is the omnipresent clash of faction against faction. The theme is that a dictatorship is the only perfect form of government. If there is a moral, it is that there is no permanent form of government._ _One of the requirements for entering IF's College Science Fiction Contest was that the contestant be a "simon pure" amateur--never having been published professionally. This is Andy Offut's first published story, and it has been accorded the same editing we give to professional manuscripts. No rewriting or revisions have been made. See November IF for complete announcement of this and the six other winners in this nation-wide contest._ * * * * * He sat down suddenly. He stared up at the man. "Say it again," he muttered. He knew what the answer would be even before the man repeated it in that quiet voice. "This is June 3, 2054." The fellow wasn't kidding him. He was serious enough. But a couple of minutes ago it had been May 15, 1954. He looked at his watch and grunted. Less than four minutes ago it had been 1954. Reality. Now it was June 3, 2054. There were four steel walls. There was a steel chair. There were no windows. He tried to take it calmly. But the unbelievable horror of being _where_ he was and _when_ he was and the man calmly repeating, "This is June 3, 2054," screamed for release. "No! No! You're lying! It's impossible!" He grabbed the man's tunic and drew back a doubled fist. His chair went over behind him. Then a stiff thumb jabbed him in the short ribs and he grunted and went down. "This is June 3, 2054. You are still in Louisville, Kentucky. You are standing in a room adjoining the laboratory in the Time Building on 3rd Street at Eastern Parkway. This is the receiving room. My name is Kevin Ilaria. You've come through time. Is that so impossible to grasp? You're a thinking man. Educated!"