The Menace From Earth ssc by Robert A. Heinlein Read Free Book Online Page B

done, was his only thought, get it done, turn it in, take three stiff drinks and sleep for a week.
    He glanced up and let his eyes rest on his wardrobe door, behind which he had cached a gin bottle, nearly full. No, he admonished himself, one more drink and you'll never finish it, Bob, old son.
    The stranger behind him said nothing.
    Wilson resumed typing. "— nor is it valid to assume that a conceivable proposition is necessarily a possible proposition, even when it is possible to formulate mathematics which describes the proposition with exactness. A case in point is the concept 'Time Travel'. Time travel may be imagined and its necessities may be formulated under any and all theories of time, formulae which resolve the paradoxes of each theory. Nevertheless, we know certain things about the empirical nature of time which preclude the possibility of the conceivable proposition. Duration is an attribute of consciousness and not of the plenum. It has no Ding an Sich. Therefore —"
    A key of the typewriter stuck, three more jammed up on top of it. Wilson swore dully and reached forward to straighten out the cantankerous machinery. "Don't bother with it," he heard a voice say. "It's a lot of utter hogwash anyhow."
    Wilson sat up with a jerk, then turned his head slowly around. He fervently hoped that there was someone behind him. Otherwise —
    He perceived the stranger with relief. "Thank God," he said to himself.
    "For a moment I thought I had come unstuck." His relief turned to extreme annoyance. "the devil are you doing in my room?" he demanded. He shoved back his chair, got up and strode over to the one door. It was still locked, and bolted on the inside.
    The windows were no help; they were adjacent to his desk and three stories above a busy street. "How did you get in?" he added.
    "Through that," answered the stranger, hooking a thumb toward the circle. Wilson noticed it for the first time, blinked his eyes and looked again. There it hung between them and the wall, a great disk of nothing, of the color one sees when the eyes are shut tight.
    Wilson shook his head vigorously. The circle remained. "Gosh," he thought, "I was right the first time. I wonder when I slipped my trolley?" He advanced toward the disk, put out a hand to touch it.
    "Don't!" snapped the stranger.
    "Why not?" said Wilson edgily. Nevertheless he paused.
    "I'll explain. But let's have a drink first." He walked directly to the wardrobe, opened it, reached in and took out the bottle of gin without looking.
    -
    "Hey!" yelled Wilson. "What are you doing there? That's my liquor."
    "Your liquor —" The stranger paused for a moment. "Sorry. You don't mind if I have a drink, do you?"
    "I suppose not," Bob Wilson conceded in a surly tone. "Pour me one while you're about it."
    "Okay," agreed the stranger, "then I'll explain."
    "It had better be good," Wilson said ominously. Nevertheless he drank his drink and looked the stranger over.
    He saw a chap about the same size as himself and much the same age — perhaps a little older, though a three-clay growth of beard may have accounted for that impression. The stranger had a black eye and a freshly cut and badly swollen upper lip. Wilson decided he did not like the chaps' face. Still, there was something familiar about the face; he felt that he should have recognized it, that he had seen it many times before under different circumstances.
    "Who are you?" he asked suddenly.
    "Me?" said his guest. "Don't you recognize me?"
    "I'm not sure," admitted Wilson. "Have I ever seen you before?"
    "Well — not exactly," the other temporized. "Skip it — you wouldn't know about it."
    "What's your name?"
    "My name? Uh ... just call me Joe."
    Wilson set down his glass. "Okay, Joe Whatever-your-name-is, trot out that explanation and make it snappy."
    "I'll do that," agreed Joe. "That dingus I came through" — he pointed to the circle — "that's a Time Gate."
    "A what?"
    "A Time Gate. Time flows along side by side on each side