Page:Amazing Stories Volume 01 Number 09.djvu/37
If we may believe Einstein, there can be nothing faster in our universe than light, moving at the rate of 186,000 miles per second. If Einstein is right, then the excellent story printed here is impossible. But no one knows. Perhaps it IS possible to catch up with the light rays that have gone into the beyond. If it is possible to do so, we should be able to photograph or throw on a screen at some future date how Columbus actually discovered America, and other famous historical events.
At any rate, THE TIME ELIMINATOR demands your attention. A very clever explanation is given of a wonderful apparatus that does it all and is of great interest.
Hamilton Fish Errell, or "Fish" Errell, as he was known at Yale, contemplated the product of his genius with elation, not unmixed with awe.
The machine stood on a solid block of transparent glass and resembled somewhat a modern radio cabinet combined with a motion picture machine. Across the face of the cabinet were three dials, but here the resemblance to radio reception ceased, for these dials bore the legends "Longitude," "Latitude" and "Altitude" respectively. A fourth dial, perhaps eight inches in diameter, was located above the others and this one bore the inscription "Time-Space."
Within was a bewildering array of tubes, wires and lamps and in front of all these, a curious arrangement of revolving mirrors, the speed of which was controlled by a knob at the right of the cabinet. One pair of wires connected the cabinet with a small dynamo, while a second set led to a 100-foot aerial pole outside the house itself.
It was while in his senior year at Yale that Errell's researches into the strange relationship existing between light and electricity attracted so much attention. Indeed he was in a fair way of becoming a celebrity when he suddenly dropped from public view and betook himself to a secluded village called Arshamomoque, at the eastern end of Long Island, where the Errell family maintained a Summer residence.
The house itself, known locally as "The Mansion," stood on a hill overlooking the Sound, but sufficiently back from the highway to insure a desirable degree of privacy. A spacious tower, originally designed for an observatory, had been converted into a research laboratory and here, surrounded by the most modern apparatus, young Errell worked feverishly on his new invention,—an invention which, even in its unfinished condition, had already produced results so far-reaching in their consequences and so revolutionary from a scientific point of view, that at times the young man almost questioned his own sanity.
A Wonderful Projecting Machine
And now the machine was completed. The young inventor straightened up, took a deep breath and reached for a cigar. As he did so, the word "Havana" popped into his. mind.
"Well, why not?" he queried. "I'll try Havana for my first real test and see how the ponies are running today."
Whereupon he consulted a map, noted the longitude and latitude of that city and twirled the dials of the cabinet to correspond. Then, looking at his watch, which showed 3 p.m., he adjusted the upper dial to 2:30 o'clock, the corresponding time for Havana.
A moment's hesitation, and then he reached over and threw a little switch, at the same time placing his other hand on the knob that controlled the revolving mirrors. A faint buzz and then a stream of light from the cabinet illumined a white screen on the opposite wall.
At first there was but a confused blur, but as he slowly turned the knob backward and forward this presently crystallized into a panoramic view of the Havana race-track, revealing the grandstand thronged with wildly excited spectators and three foam-specked horses tearing down the home stretch almost neck and neck.
Even as Errell watched, they flashed over the line and a moment later the name of the winner, "Muchacho," appeared on the bulletin board.
"Hot stuff!" he commented. "Now for the next test."
Slowly, almost solemnly, he turned the upper dial to the left,—five, ten, fifteen, twenty notches.
"That should be the year 1906," he said, "the year of the great earthquake at San Francisco."
Consulting his map again, he adjusted the lower dials, allowing 100 feet for altitude, and again threw the switch.
As before, the picture first appeared as an indistinguishable blur, and then it changed gradually to a clearly-defined birdseye view of the stricken city. And now he could behold great buildings come crashing down, throngs of panic-stricken citizens scurrying through the streets in wild disorder, with here and there the smoke of incipient fires.
For some time he watched the awe-inspiring spectacle, then threw the cut-out switch and reset the dials.
"Now I'll try for 'distance,' as the radio fans would put it," he chuckled, jubilant over his success thus far.
Seeing St. Joan of Arc
Reaching up, he twirled the top dial rapidly to the left, with reckless disregard of this annihilation of time and space, until the indicator registered the year 1428!
"This should convince the most skeptical," he said. "I'll take a peek at France in those bygone days."
He thereupon computed carefully the location of the city of Orleans and made the proper adjustments on the lower dials. Then, confident but deeply impressed at the thought of what was to come, he once more threw the switch and regulated the speed of the revolving mirrors until the pictures on the screen synchronized with the actual event.
"My God! It's Joan of Arc!" he cried, as across the silver screen in serried ranks, swept the attacking army at the siege of Orleans. At their head, clad in brightly shining armor, flashing sword uplifted and a look of exaltation on her face, rode the Warrior Maid!
Minute after minute he sat there with bated breath,—tremulous with excitement, awed and yet elated. And then, as he was resetting the dials,