CHAPTER TWO

All that week I thought about the scientist's time machine. I wanted to believe in its truth, but I found myself remembering the doctor's words that evening, about how these kinds of scientists could not be trusted.

None of us spoke of time travel for the entire week. However, I'm sure that, like myself, the others must have been wondering about that disappearing model and the possibilities it offered if the larger machine could do the same.

One evening, I happened to meet Doctor Manning at a bar downtown. We only spoke for a short time, for the doctor was meeting some friends for dinner soon after.

"I can't say that I'm too impressed," said the doctor. "I've seen similar tricks performed before. It's not exactly clear how they do it, but I'm pretty sure it has something to do with the lighting of the room."

"Well, however he did it, I was very deeply impressed," I said. "It seems I'm going to have an opportunity to ask him more about it next Thursday, for he's invited me over for dinner that evening."

"Ah, good. I'll see you there, as I have also been invited. We'll see what other tricks the good scientist has to show us."

The following Thursday I arrived a little late to the scientist's home. Upon entering the dining room, I found five men already seated. Doctor Manning was there, and so was Dr Perry, the psychologist. The three new additions to our party were Blank, a famous newspaper editor, a journalist whose name I never learned, and a quiet, bearded gentleman who was quite forgettable because he hardly spoke the entire evening. Strangely enough, the scientist was not present. When I asked where he might be, the doctor said that he had left a note indicating that he was going to be late for dinner and that if he had not arrived by seven o'clock, we should begin our meal without him.

"Where could he be?" wondered Blank.

"Oh, he's probably out traveling about through time," I joked. At this, both Doctors Manning and Perry laughed quite hard. Blank and the others, however, were confused and asked that we explain the joke. Dr Manning then began to tell them about last week's 'trick'.

As he was telling the story, I noticed the dining room doors beginning to open. Seeing in the darkness of the hallway the face of the scientist I shouted "Hello, there! It's about time you showed up!" Everyone turned to greet him as he entered.

But when the scientist stepped into the light of the dining room, we were all astonished into silence. He looked horrible. His coat was covered in dirt, and down each of his arms was a deep green stain. His hair was a mess and it looked grayer than before; whether because it was so dirty or because it had somehow turned lighter, I could not say. His face was extremely white and he had a deep cut on his chin that looked as though it had been healing for a while.

He said nothing, but walked slowly and with some difficulty toward the dining table. Once there, he pointed toward the wine bottle. The Editor poured him a glass and handed it to him. The scientist emptied the glass at once and then stood looking around the table with a strange smile on his face.

"What in the hell have you been doing, man?" asked Manning.

The scientist pushed his glass toward the Editor again, indicating he wanted another drink, and watching the Editor refill it he spoke in a tired voice, "Gentlemen, I'm sorry to have ... frightened you. I ... promise to tell you ... everything, but first I must go wash up a little. Please ... begin your meal, and be sure to leave me some of that ... mutton. I'm so ... very hungry."

Watching him walk out of the room I was surprised to find that he was wearing only a pair of socks, both covered in blood. I wanted to rush over to help, but I knew that that would just annoy him.

The six of us then sat in silence for a few moments, until the Editor held up both his hands and, as if reading, shouted, "'Scientist Goes Mad!' I can just see the headline in the newspapers tomorrow!"

The journalist laughed with him and added, "So, what has been going on here? This is hardly professional behavior."

"It must have something to do with his experiments in time travel," I said.

"Oh, come on!" objected the Editor. "All this talk about time travel is ridiculous. Look at how dirty he was! Don't you think that they would have a way to clean clothing in the future?"

And for the next ten minutes the Editor and Journalist continued to make jokes of this sort about the scientist and his wild ideas. Neither of them seemed troubled by the scientist's horrible condition. I doubt that they had even noticed his pained walking and his bloody feet.

They were still carrying on when the scientist finally returned to the dining room.

"I say, man! These gentlemen tell us you've been traveling into the future," remarked the Journalist with a smile. "Could you do me a favor and tell me the news for the next week, so that I can write the story ahead of time?" Again, the two newspapermen began to laugh at the scientist's expense.

"Very funny, indeed," said the scientist, not looking at anyone, but rather at all the food on the table. "Could someone pass me the mutton? I'm starving!"

"Well, aren't you going to explain yourself?" asked Dr Manning.

The scientist did not bother to answer, for he was quickly stuffing food into his mouth, as though he had not eaten since our last meeting. For twenty minutes we sat there in an uncomfortable silence, waiting for the scientist to finish his meal.

Finally, laying down his fork and knife on the empty plate before him, the scientist leaned back in his chair, took a cigar from his pocket, and while cutting the end of it, said, "I really must apologize, gentlemen. You simply cannot imagine how hungry I just was. But let us move to the smoking-room, where I can then tell you the whole story of my adventure."

We all rose from our seats and followed the scientist to the next room. Then positioning our chairs in a half-circle around his, we prepared ourselves for what he promised would be a long, but exciting account of the past week.

"Now, before I begin ... Have any of you who were here last week told these three fellows about my time machine?"

"Yes, but I cannot say we did a very good job in the telling. There are still so many things that we are not clear about," I answered.

"No matter how well it might or might not have been told, there's no way for me to believe that you have discovered a way to travel through time!" said the editor.

"Naturally," said the scientist. "Well then, I would like to ask that no one interrupt me, because I have, in fact, just traveled through time, and I want to tell you everything while it is still fresh in my mind. There will be no arguing tonight, even though much of what I tell you I'm sure you will find unbelievable. That I cannot help. I am extremely tired, so please let me tell everything; for the sooner I tell it, the sooner I can go to bed. Is it agreed?"

And after each of us had agreed, he began his incredible story.

(end of section)