Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Astounding Stories March 1933. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. The End of Time By Wallace West * * * * * [Sidenote: By millions of millions the creatures of earth slow and drop when their time-sense is mysteriously paralyzed.] "There is no doubt of it!" The little chemist pushed steel-bowed spectacles up on his high forehead and peered at his dinner guest with excited blue eyes. "Time will come to an end at six o'clock this morning." Jack Baron, young radio engineer at the Rothafel Radio laboratories, and protégé of Dr. Manthis, his host, laughed heartily. "What a yarn you spin, Doctor," he said. "Write it for the movies." "But it's true," insisted the older man. "Something is paralyzing our time-sense. The final stroke will occur about daybreak." "Bosh! You mean the earth will stop rotating, the stars blink out?" "Not at all. Such things have nothing to do with time. You may know your short waves, but your general education has been sadly neglected." The scientist picked up a weighty volume. "Maybe this will explain what I mean. It's from Immanuel Kant's 'Critique of Pure Reason.' Listen: 'Time is not something which subsists of itself, or which inheres in things as an objective determination, and therefore, remains, when abstraction is made of the subjective conditions of the intuition of things. For in the former case it would be something real, yet without presenting to any power of perception any real object. In the latter case, as an order of determination inherent in things themselves, it could not be antecedent to things, as their condition, nor discerned or intuited by means of synthetical propositions _a priori_. But all this is quite possible when we regard time as merely the subjective condition under which all our intuitions take place.' "There. Does that make it clear?" "Clear as mud," grinned Baron. "Kant is too deep for me." "I'll give you another proof," snapped Manthis. "Look at your watch." The other drew out his timepiece. Slowly his face sobered. "Why, I can't see the second hand," he exclaimed. "It's just a blur!" "Exactly! Now look at the minute hand. Can you see it move?" "Yes, quite clearly." "What time is it?" [Illustration: _A few remained standing like statues._] "Half past one. Great Scott! So that's why you spun that yarn." Baron hoisted his six feet one out of the easy chair. "It's way past your bedtime. Didn't mean to keep you up." He stared again at his watch as if it had betrayed him. "It seems we just finished dinner. I must have dozed off...."