The End of Time Read online

mania--run amuck as they say inIndia."

  "True enough," admitted the chemist, "but Andrev, the Russian, youknow, recently worked out a formula to neutralize the deadly effectsof the drug but retain its time-expanding effect for medical purposes.I've added that to the pure drug. There isn't enough of it in New Yorkto keep all these people normal for five minutes. Why should I havefrightened the poor things?"

  He relapsed into silence and the others found no heart to ask furtherquestions as they watched the coming of the end of a world. Theprocession of passers-by had thinned somewhat by now. The streetlights had grown dim. There was a look of increasing puzzlement on thefaces of the people who remained. Something was wrong. They knew notwhat.

  * * * * *

  Floating along the sidewalk like a figure in a slow motion picturecame a tiny tot of three. She was sobbing. Great tears formed withpainful slowness and slid down her flushed cheeks.

  "She's lost," exclaimed June. "Here, darling, I'll find your mama."

  She picked up the child and looked up and down the street. The motherwas not in sight. Automatically she turned to a policeman who stoodnearby.

  "Officer," she said quickly, "this girl is lost. Will you...?"

  She stiffened in dismay. The policeman was staring through her as ifhis eyes had not registered her approach. Slowly his gaze came intofocus. A puzzled look came over his Irish face. He spoke. It was onlya blurred rumble.

  "What can I do for her, Father?" June cried, turning away from theofficer in despair. "She's dying. See? Couldn't we give her some ofthe drug?"

  "There's only enough for us," her father replied firmly.

  "But she'll be quite dead in an hour!"

  "I'm not so sure of that. Perhaps only in a state resemblingcatalepsy. We must wait. Jack, take her into the lobby. Put her on asofa there."

  Dawn was paling the blue-black sky as the radio engineer returned. Thestreet lights fluttered fitfully and at last died. The streets hadbecome deserted although groups still eddied slowly about the subwaykiosks.

  "Five forty-five," whispered Manthis. "The end should come anymoment."

  As he spoke a white-garbed street sweeper, who had been leaning on hisbroom at the curb ever since the onlookers had reached the sidewalk,decided to move on at last. With infinite slowness his foot came up.He poised, swung forward, then, the universal paralysis overcominghim, remained in a strangely ludicrous position for a moment beforecrashing downward on his face.

  As far as they could see in the semidarkness, others were falling. Afew, balanced with feet wide apart, remained standing like statues.Those who collapsed writhed slowly a time or two and were still.

  After the thudding of the bodies had ended the silence became ghastly.Not an awakening bird twittered in the trees of Central Park. Not asheep bleated in the inclosure. Except for their own breathing and thesighing of the wind, not a sound! Then a faraway clock boomed sixnotes. The noise made them start and turn pale faces toward eachother.

  "Come," said the doctor heavily. "It's all over. We might as well goup. We'll have to walk. All power will be off. Twenty stories!"

  * * * * *

  The lobby of the Hotel Atchison, on the roof of which the penthouseapartment was located, was empty now except for a few clerks andbellboys. These sat with bowed heads before their grills or on theirbenches as if they had merely succumbed to the unpardonable sin ofsleeping on duty. But they did not breathe.

  June clung to her father's arm as they crossed noiselessly over theheavy carpet.

  "The city will be a charnel house when these bodies start todecompose." Baron hesitated. "Shouldn't we get out of town while thereis a chance?"

  Manthis shook his head. "No. I'm convinced these people aren't dead.They're simply outside of time. Change cannot affect them. If I'm notmistaken they will remain just the same indefinitely."

  "But there will be fires throughout the city."

  "Not many. The electricity is off. The day is warm so no furnaces aregoing. Not even a rat is left to nibble matches, for the animals mustbe affected in the same way that humans are. The world is asleep."

  * * * * *

  After mounting interminable stairs they regained the apartment andwent out on the balcony. It was full daylight now but not asmoke-plume trailed from tall chimneys. Not a bird was on the wing.Elevated trains stood on their tracks, passengers and guards asleepinside.

  "I still don't understand," muttered Baron. "The sun comes up. Thewind blows. How can that be if there is no time? Might this not besome plague?"

  "In a way you are right, boy. It is a plague which has paralyzed man'ssense of time. You have become involved by not remembering Kant'saxiom that time is purely subjective. It exists in the mind only. Itand space are the only ideas inherently in our brains. They allow usto conduct ourselves among a vast collection of things-in-themselveswhich time does not affect."

  "But--"

  "Wait a moment. Granting that time is in the mind rather than in theoutside world, what will happen if the time-sense is paralyzed? Won'tthe effect be similar to hypnosis whereby a man is reduced to acataleptic state? The thought chain which usually passes ceaselesslythrough the brain is halted."

  Seeing that the engineer still looked puzzled, June interposed:

  "It's something like enchantment," she explained. "The old legends arefull of it--the Sleeping Beauty, Brunhilde, Rip Van Winkle. I amconvinced that in ancient times a few persons knew how to draw a fairyring about those they wished to injure or protect, placing them thusoutside the reach of time and change. This has now happened the worldover, perhaps through some drift in the ether or germ in the brain.That is what we must find out so we can solve the mystery and takesteps to reawaken the world--"

  "Perhaps this will help," interrupted Manthis in his turn. "As youknow, all the great scientists--Einstein, Jeans, Pavlov--are convincedthat everything in the universe is a form of vibration. Even thought,they believe, operates somewhat like a very short radio wave. What ifsome agency, either inside or outside the universe, began interferingon the thought-wave channel?"

  "Granting your supposition,"--Jack was on his own groundnow--"transmission would be impossible on that channel."

  "Exactly! Well, that's what I am convinced is taking place. I'm achemist, not an engineer. I've given you the lead. You'll have to dothe rest. Do you think you might locate such interference?"

  "Possibly. I'll do my best."

  "Fine! Of course, if it is coming from outside the stratosphere as thecosmic rays do, there is no hope. But if someone is broadcasting sucha devilish wave from an earthly station we may have a chance to stopit.

  "Now, Baron, my boy," he continued, dropping into a more jovial toneand leading his friend into the laboratory, "you'll have to get busyif you intend to keep us ticking. This equipment is at your disposal."He waved toward a newly installed short wave radio transmitter. "Hereare storage batteries, all charged." He opened another door. "I have afive kilowatt generator installed here. It is operated by a gasolineengine. If you need other equipment you can raid the Rothafel plant."

  * * * * *

  Returning to the main laboratory he indicated the work table set closeto a great double window overlooking Central Park.

  "Couldn't ask for anything better, could you?" he smiled. "Plenty oflight and air and a view of the city. Look, you can even see thosepoor devils lying around the subway kiosk." His face became bleak.Then he shrugged and tried to throw off his depression. "June and Iwill help you as much as we can. We can raid stores for provisions andhashish. New let's have breakfast."

  The next few days were filled with unending labor for the temporalcastaways. From daybreak until far into the night, with radioreceivers clamped over their ears, the three twisted dials, adjustedrheostats and listened in on long and short wave bands. But the ether,which once had pulsated with music and friendly voices, now wassilent, except for stat
ic.

  "Makes me think of Sunday mornings when I was a boy," Manthis oncecommented. "Only this is more quiet. It gives me the jitters." Therewas a note of hysteria in his voice.

  When the doctor's nerves began to quiver in that manner, Baron alwaysinsisted that they all rest. During such recesses they ate, playedcards and helped June with the housework. The younger man wascontinually amazed by the calmness with which the girl faced theirdesperate situation. Clad in a blue smock which brought out the colorof her eyes, she flitted about the apartment, manufacturing deliciousmeals out of canned goods and always having a cheery word when theothers