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 became extinct a couple of centuries ago, about the year 2,800. Man, who betrayed the horse into what he became, hardly regretted the passing. However, and I speak with all sincerity, there will be men of the future who will see a horse. Perhaps men of the future may ride horseback like knights and cowboys of the Middle Ages. The secret of time travel has been discovered. No one has traveled through time as yet, although man has explored the universe for more than twenty light years from the sun. But the day of time travel is not far distant. It had simple beginnings. All great things began in simple ways. Newton and the apple were the beginnings of modern understanding of the laws of the physical world; Watts and the teakettle were the origins of industry and the machine age. A very beautiful young woman and an unscrupulous man were responsible for time travel. I met the man early in the morning of July 2, 3002. I remember the date because on the day before I had visited in Alexandria, Egypt, and I had eaten dinner in Shanghai, China. It was nearly midnight when I reached the rocket port in Chicago and a jam in the pneumatics delayed my arrival home until nearly one o'clock in the morning. Blake, fully dressed, met me at the door. There was a worried look in his eyes. "There is a gentleman to see you, sir," Blake said. "I explained that you 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 his voice to a whisper. "I was a little frightened of him, sir. He doesn't seem quite--ah--quite right, sir, if you know what I mean. Shall I call the police?" "No, Blake." I felt confident of licking my weight in madmen and I entered 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 a reflection from the fluorescent lamps of the library, but it showed a little too much of the whites of his eyes and I thought of what Blake had 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 some reaction, but unfortunately the name meant nothing to me, although if I had paid more attention to the newspapers I would have known who he was at once. "I am the president of the Stellar Transport Company," he announced.