Authors: Chad Oliver
“First
of
all,”
his
uncle
said,
“you
must
remember that
this
machine
operates
with
atomic
energy
as
a power
source.
The
particular
system
that
I
have
employed
works
on
a
principle
of
continuous
nuclear
reaction—that
is,
it
is
set
to
go
a
certain
way
before
we start,
and
then
once
it
is
started
it
cannot
be
stopped until
the
space-time
machine
has
reached
its
destination.
There
is
no
way
to
change
the
reaction
once
it
has begun.
It
is
like
an
automatic
car
that
you
have
set
to go
to
Detroit—once
it
starts
out,
you
can’t
change
your mind
and
go
to
San
Antonio
instead.
Understand?”
“Clear
so
far.”
“All
right,”
his
uncle
continued.
“The
next
thing
to remember
is
that,
for
all
its
power,
this
machine
is
a very
delicately
balanced
mechanism.
You
know
how long
and
how
hard
I’ve
worked,
and
most
of
the
work involved
was
not
in
the
theory
or
in
the
power
source, but
in
the
mechanism
itself.
Everything
must
balance
exactly.
I
have
finally
gotten
what
appears
to
be
the right
combination,
and
of
course
I
have
kept
detailed records,
but
whether
or
not
I
could
ever
build
a
duplicate
space-time
machine
again,
I
don’t
know.
Certainly,
it
would
be
the
work
of
many
years.”
“I
see,”
said
Mark.
“In
other
words,
as
far
as
we know,
this
is
a
once-only
proposition.”
“That’s
right.
It
isn’t
as
though
we
had
a
device
that would
enable
us
to
go
backward
and
forward
in
time whenever
we
pleased.
It
will
take
us
back
and
bring us
home—once.
I
have
picked
Rome
partly
because
I have
been
interested
in
it
all
my
life,
but
also
because it
is
relatively
close
in
time—not
over
several
thousand years
away.
For
the
first
trip
I
think
it
wise
that
we do
not
attempt
too
much.
Then
again,
we
know
a
great deal
about
Rome,
which
will
make
it
possible
for
us
to conduct
ourselves
intelligently
when
we
get
there.
We know
the
language,
the
detailed
history,
and
the
society
and
culture
we
are
going
into.
We
will
know
how to
behave
and
take
care
of
ourselves.
It
would
be
sheer and
utter
folly
to
attempt
to
journey
into
a
time
that we
knew
nothing
about.
We
couldn’t
speak
the
language,
we
couldn’t
adjust
to
the
life,
we
would
be dressed
in
the
wrong
sort
of
clothing—everything would
be
against
us.
We’d
probably
wind
up
dead
or in
prison
or
in
an
insane
asylum—if
they
had
them!”
“How
about
the
future?”
Mark
asked
thoughtfully. “Could
we
go
into
the
future?”
“I
frankly
don’t
know
about
the
future,”
Doctor
Nye said,
puffing
slowly
on
his
pipe.
“It’s
still
an
open
question.
Theoretically,
I
believe
it
could
be
done.
But
all the
objections
I
have
just
raised
would
apply.
We
could not
possibly
know
what
we
were
going
into,
we
could not
prepare
ourselves
in
any
way.
And
there
are
other problems.
Going
into
a
future
that
does
not
yet
exist is
a
risky
business—for
is
it
possible
to
change
history, either
of
the
past
or
of
the
future?
What
would
happen to
you,
for
instance,
if
you
went
back
in
time
and killed
your
grandfather
before
your
father
was
born? Time
travel
is
full
of
unanswered
questions.
I
do
believe,
however,
that
we’ll
find
that
it
is
impossible
for us
to
alter
history
in
any
fundamental
way.
I
believe that
it
would
be
wiser
not
to
try
to
change
things.
Of course,
there
is
the
possibility
of
alternate
time
streams, multiple
futures—”