Two Timer

By FREDRIC BROWN

Illustrated by STONE

Experiment

"The first time machine,
gentlemen," Professor
Johnson proudly
informed his two colleagues.
"True, it is a small-scale experimental
model. It will operate
only on objects weighing less
than three pounds, five ounces
and for distances into the past
and future of twelve minutes or
less. But it works."

The small-scale model looked
like a small scale—a postage
scale—except for two dials in the
part under the platform.

Professor Johnson held up a
small metal cube. "Our experimental
object," he said, "is a
brass cube weighing one pound,
two point three ounces. First, I
shall send it five minutes into the
future."

He leaned forward and set one
of the dials on the time machine.
"Look at your watches," he said.

They looked at their watches.
Professor Johnson placed the
cube gently on the machine's
platform. It vanished.

Five minutes later, to the second,
it reappeared.

Professor Johnson picked it
up. "Now five minutes into the
past." He set the other dial. Holding
the cube in his hand he looked
at his watch. "It is six minutes
before three o'clock. I shall now
activate the mechanism—by
placing the cube on the platform—at
exactly three o'clock. Therefore,
the cube should, at five
minutes before three, vanish from
my hand and appear on the platform,
five minutes before I place
it there."

"How can you place it there,
then?" asked one of his colleagues.

"It will, as my hand approaches,
vanish from the platform
and appear in my hand to
be placed there. Three o'clock.
Notice, please."

The cube vanished from his
hand.

It appeared on the platform of
the time machine.

"See? Five minutes before I
shall place it there, it is there!"

His other colleague frowned at
the cube. "But," he said, "what
if, now that it has already appeared
five minutes before you
place it there, you should change
your mind about doing so and not
place it there at three o'clock?
Wouldn't there be a paradox of
some sort involved?"

"An interesting idea," Professor
Johnson said. "I had not
thought of it, and it will be interesting
to try. Very well, I
shall not ..."

There was no paradox at all.
The cube remained.

But the entire rest of the Universe,
professors and all, vanished.

Sentry

He was wet and muddy and
hungry and cold, and he was
fifty thousand light-years from
home.

A strange blue sun gave light
and the gravity, twice what he
was used to, made every movement
difficult.

But in tens of thousands of
years this part of war hadn't
changed. The flyboys were fine
with their sleek spaceships and
their fancy weapons. When the
chips are down, though, it was
still the foot soldier, the infantry,
that had to take the ground and
hold it, foot by bloody foot. Like
this damned planet of a star he'd
never heard of until they'd landed
him there. And now it was
sacred ground because the aliens
were there too. The aliens, the
only other intelligent race in the
Galaxy ... cruel, hideous and repulsive
monsters.

Contact had been made with
them near the center of the Galaxy,
after the slow, difficult colonization
of a dozen thousand
planets; and it had been war at
sight; they'd shot without even
trying to negotiate, or to make
peace.

Now, planet by bitter planet,
it was being fought out.

He was wet and muddy and
hungry and cold, and the day
was raw with a high wind that
hurt his eyes. But the aliens were
trying to infiltrate and every
sentry post was vital.

He stayed alert, gun ready.
Fifty thousand light-years from
home, fighting on a strange world
and wondering if he'd ever live
to see home again.

And then he saw one of them
crawling toward him. He drew a
bead and fired. The alien made
that strange horrible sound they
all make, then lay still.

He shuddered at the sound and
sight of the alien lying there. One
ought to be able to get used to
them after a while, but he'd never
been able to. Such repulsive creatures
they were, with only two
arms and two legs, ghastly white
skins and no scales.

—FREDRIC BROWN

Transcriber's Note:

This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction February 1954.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and
typographical errors have been corrected without note.