Adventure stories; Science fiction; Time travel -- Fiction
Soon day and night had merged, had given way to a perpetual greenish
dusk through which we raced with nightmare speed. I glanced at the
dials that recorded our progress and position in time, and noted that
already we had gone ahead almost four months into the future, while
our progress was now doubling every few minutes. Passing over northern
Pennsylvania, I saw the ground below turning to a blotched, patchy
gray, the composite impression of weeks of snow and ice, below. The
gray soon faded, changed to green, with the coming of spring. The
cycle of green and white was repeated, again and again, until we were
speeding through the years too swiftly to see it, and white and green
had merged into a drab color that hung over all the landscape below.
By the time we passed over western Ohio, our car was racing into the
future with a speed of nearly ten years a minute. At this speed, we saw
little of human activities below. There were blurred, vague outlines of
cities now and then, but these were only hazy, indefinite masses that
passed from view as we fled on westward in the car.
Soon, though, Lantin slowed the car's progress through space and began
to give close attention to the physical features of the country below
us. He consulted maps constantly, now, and finally, after a number of
stops and starts, brought the car to rest, in space, above the juncture
of two small rivers. Hanging there, we still sped on through time,
and above the winds Lantin shouted, "Stop there," pointing to the
maps he held and then down toward the ground below. I understood his
meaning, and knew that he had reached the spot in Illinois which he had
calculated to be the Raider's home.
Intently we scanned the ground beneath the car. Gray and splotchy as it
appeared, from alternate summer and winter, yet there were nowhere any
buildings or signs of life, nothing but the two little rivers and the
rolling fields that extended away to the horizon.
A glance at the dials told me that we had progressed through time some
twelve thousand years, since our start. I heard Lantin utter a low
exclamation, and looked up to see him gazing intently toward the north,
through one of the side windows. Moving over beside him, I looked also,
and saw, away on the distant northern horizon, a speck of gleaming
white. We were still racing on through time, and as we watched, that
white spot spread, expanded, grew to a thick line of dazzling white
that lay across all the north horizon.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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