III
“I TOLD SOME OF you last Thursday of the
principles of the Time Machine, and showed you the actual thing
itself, incomplete in the workshop. There it is now, a little
travel-worn, truly; and one of the ivory bars is cracked, and a
brass rail bent; but the rest of it’s sound enough. I expected to
finish it on Friday, but on Friday, when the putting together was
nearly done, I found that one of the nickel bars was exactly one
inch too short, and this I had to get remade; so that the thing was
not complete until this morning. It was at ten o‘clock to-day that
the first of all Time Machines began its career. I gave it a last
tap, tried all the screws again, put one more drop of oil on the
quartz rod, and sat myself in the saddle.v I
suppose a suicide who holds a pistol to his skull feels much the
same wonder at what will come next as I felt then. I took the
starting lever in one hand and the stopping one in the other,
pressed the first, and almost immediately the second. I seemed to
reel; I felt a nightmare sensation of falling; and looking round, I
saw the laboratory exactly as before. Had anything happened? For a
moment I suspected that my intellect had tricked me. Then I noted
the clock. A moment before, as it seemed, it had stood at a minute
or so past ten; now it was nearly half-past three!
“I drew a breath, set my teeth, gripped the
starting lever with both hands, and went off with a thud. The
laboratory got hazy and went dark. Mrs. Watchett came in and
walked, apparently without seeing me, towards the garden door. I
suppose it took her a minute or so to traverse the place, but to me
she seemed to shoot across the room like a rocket. I pressed the
lever over to its extreme position. The night came like the turning
out of a lamp, and in another moment came to-morrow. The laboratory
grew faint and hazy, then fainter and ever fainter. To-morrow night
came black, then day again, night again, day again, faster and
faster still. An eddying murmur filled my ears, and a strange, dumb
confusedness descended on my mind.
“I am afraid I cannot convey the peculiar
sensations of time travelling. They are excessively unpleasant.
There is a feeling exactly like that one has upon a
switchbackw—of a
helpless headlong motion! I felt the same horrible anticipation,
too, of an imminent smash. As I put on pace, night followed day
like the flapping of a black wing. The dim suggestion of the
laboratory seemed presently to fall away from me, and I saw the sun
hopping swiftly across the sky, leaping it every minute, and every
minute marking a day. I supposed the laboratory had been destroyed
and I had come into the open air. I had a dim impression of
scaffolding, but I was already going too fast to be conscious of
any moving things. The slowest snail that ever crawled dashed by
too fast for me. The twinkling succession of darkness and light was
excessively painful to the eye. Then, in the intermittent
darknesses, I saw the moon spinning swiftly through, her quarters
from new to full, and had a faint glimpse of the circling stars.
Presently, as I went on, still gaining velocity, the palpitation of
night and day merged into one continuous greyness; the sky took on
a wonderful deepness of blue, a splendid luminous color like that
of early twilight; the jerking sun became a streak of fire, a
brilliant arch, in space; the moon a fainter fluctuating band; and
I could see nothing of the stars, save now and then a brighter
circle flickering in the blue.
“The landscape was misty and vague. I was still on
the hill-side upon which this house now stands, and the shoulder
rose above me grey and dim. I saw trees growing and changing like
puffs of vapour, now brown, now green; they grew, spread, shivered,
and passed away. I saw huge buildings rise up faint and fair, and
pass like dreams. The whole surface of the earth seemed
changed—melting and flowing under my eyes. The little hands upon
the dials that registered my speed raced round faster and faster.
Presently I noted that the sun belt swayed up and down, from
solstice to solstice,x in a
minute or less, and that consequently my pace was over a year a
minute; and minute by minute the white snow flashed across the
world, and vanished, and was followed by the bright, brief green of
spring.
“The unpleasant sensations of the start were less
poignant now. They merged at last into a kind of hysterical
exhilaration. I remarked indeed a clumsy swaying of the machine,
for which I was unable to account. But my mind was too confused to
attend to it, so with a kind of madness growing upon me, I flung
myself into futurity. At first I scarce thought of stopping, scarce
thought of anything but these new sensations. But presently a fresh
series of impressions grew up in my mind—a certain curiosity and
therewith a certain dread—until at last they took complete
possession of me. What strange developments of humanity, what
wonderful advances upon our rudimentary civilization,1 I
thought, might not appear when I came to look nearly into the dim
elusive world that raced and fluctuated before my eyes! I saw great
and splendid architecture rising about me, more massive than any
buildings of our own time, and yet, as it seemed, built of
glimmery and
mist. I saw a richer green flow up the hill-side, and remain there
without any wintry intermission. Even through the veil of my
confusion the earth seemed very fair. And so my mind came round to
the business of stopping.
“The peculiar risk lay in the possibility of my
finding some substance in the space which I, or the machine,
occupied. So long as I travelled at a high velocity through time,
this scarcely mattered; I was, so to speak, attenuated—was slipping
like a vapour through the interstices of intervening substances!
But to come to a stop involved the jamming of myself, molecule by
molecule, into whatever lay in my way;2 meant
bringing my atoms into such intimate contact with those of the
obstacle that a profound chemical reaction—possibly a far-reaching
explosion—would result, and blow myself and my apparatus out of all
possible dimensions—into the Unknown. This possibility had occurred
to me again and again while I was making the machine; but then I
had cheerfully accepted it as an unavoidable risk—one of the risks
a man has got to take! Now the risk was inevitable, I no longer saw
it in the same cheerful light. The fact is that, insensibly, the
absolute strangeness of everything, the sickly jarring and swaying
of the machine, above all, the feeling of prolonged falling, had
absolutely upset my nerve. I told myself that I could never stop,
and with a gust of petulance I resolved to stop forthwith. Like an
impatient fool, I lugged over the lever, and incontinentlyz the
thing went reeling over, and I was flung headlong through the
air.
“There was the sound of a clap of thunder in my
ears. I may have been stunned for a moment. A pitiless hail was
hissing round me, and I was sitting on soft turf in front of the
overset machine. Everything still seemed grey, but presently I
remarked that the confusion in my ears was gone. I looked round me.
I was on what seemed to be a little lawn in a garden, surrounded by
rhododendron bushes, and I noticed that their mauve and purple
blossoms were dropping in a shower under the beating of the
hail-stones. The rebounding, dancing hail hung in a cloud over the
machine, and drove along the ground like smoke. In a moment I was
wet to the skin. “Fine hospitality,” said I, “to a man who has
travelled innumerable years to see you.”
“Presently I thought what a fool I was to get wet.
I stood up and looked round me. A colossal figure, carved
apparently in some white stone, loomed indistinctly beyond the
rhododendrons through the hazy downpour. But all else of the world
was invisible.
“My sensations would be hard to describe. As the
columns of hail grew thinner, I saw the white figure more
distinctly. It was very large, for a silver birch-tree touched its
shoulder. It was of white marble, in shape something like a winged
sphinx,3 but the
wings, instead of being carried vertically at the sides, were
spread so that it seemed to hover. The pedestal, it appeared to me,
was of bronze, and was thick with verdigris.aa
It chanced that the face was towards me; the sightless eyes seemed
to watch me; there was the faint shadow of a smile on the lips. It
was greatly weather-worn, and that imparted an unpleasant
suggestion of disease. I stood looking at it for a little
space—half a minute, perhaps, or half an hour. It seemed to advance
and to recede as the hail drove before it denser or thinner. At
last I tore my eyes from it for a moment, and saw that the hail
curtain had worn threadbare, and that the sky was lightening with
the promise of the sun.
“I looked up again at the crouching white shape,
and the full temerity ab of my
voyage came suddenly upon me. What might appear when that hazy
curtain was altogether withdrawn? What might not have happened to
men? What if cruelty had grown into a common passion? What if in
this interval the race had lost its manliness, and had developed
into something inhuman, unsympathetic, and overwhelmingly powerful?
I might seem some old-world savage animal, only the more dreadful
and disgusting for our common likeness—a foul creature to be
incontinently slain.
“Already I saw other vast shapes—huge buildings
with intricate parapets and tall columns, with a wooded hill-side
dimly creeping in upon me through the lessening storm. I was seized
with a panic fear. I turned frantically to the Time Machine, and
strove hard to readjust it. As I did so the shafts of the sun smote
through the thunderstorm. The grey downpour was swept aside and
vanished like the trailing garments of a ghost. Above me, in the
intense blue of the summer sky, some faint brown shreds of cloud
whirled into nothingness. The great buildings about me stood out
clear and distinct, shining with the wet of the thunderstorm, and
picked out in white by the unmelted hailstones piled along their
courses.ac I
felt naked in a strange world. I felt as perhaps a bird may feel in
the clear air, knowing the hawk wings above and will swoop. My fear
grew to frenzy. I took a breathing space, set my teeth, and again
grappled fiercely, wrist and knee, with the machine. It gave under
my desperate onset and turned over. It struck my chin violently.
One hand on the saddle, the other on the lever, I stood panting
heavily in attitude to mount again.
“But with this recovery of a prompt retreat my
courage recovered. I looked more curiously and less fearfully at
this world of the remote future. In a circular opening, high up in
the wall of the nearer house, I saw a group of figures clad in rich
soft robes. They had seen me, and their faces were directed towards
me.
“Then I heard voices approaching me. Coming through
the bushes by the White Sphinx were the heads and shoulders of men
running. One of these emerged in a pathway leading straight to the
little lawn upon which I stood with my machine. He was a slight
creature—perhaps four feet high—clad in a purple tunic, girdled at
the waist with a leather belt. Sandals or buskinsad—I
could not clearly distinguish which—were on his feet; his legs were
bare to the knees, and his head was bare. Noticing that, I noticed
for the first time how warm the air was.
“He struck me as being a very beautiful and
graceful creature, but indescribably frail.4 His
flushed face reminded me of the more beautiful kind of
consumptiveae—that
hectic beauty of which we used to hear so much. At the sight of him
I suddenly regained confidence. I took my hands from the
machine.