Pulp Fiction, 1924 · page 73 of 168
Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 73: what you’re looking at
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er, it lay motionless, awaiting those human masters who soon were to launch it into another time world. Occasionally during the afternoon it was visited anxiously by a slim, boyish figure— Georgie, who was verifying again and again that all was in readiness. Evening came. The others arrived, sin- gly and in couples. For two hours a bustle of last preparations went on—things for- gotten, last minute plans put into execution. But by hine o’clock the moment of depar- ture was finally at hand. The Banker was in a fluster of excite- ment. He had appointed himself the leader of those who were to be left behind, and he felt the responsibility keenly. “Tell me exactly what we’ve got to do,” he insisted. ‘ “ I don’t want anything to go wrong.” Rogers slapped him on the back. nothing to be alarmed over.” “No. But I want to be sure I’ve got it straight. Tell me all over again.” Rogers repressed a smile. ‘“ When we have gone you will all wait some ten min- utes—to be sure nothing has gone wrong to bring us immediately back. Then you will lock up the inclosure and leave. I have made arrangements with the club to have the inclosure left standing.” “That’s all?” asked the Banker anxious- ly. ‘“ We leave the roof open?” “Yes. In coming back we will want it open—and you cannot tell when we may return.” ‘But no more than six months?” the Banker insisted. ‘‘ You promise that?” Rogers nodded. “Come on,” Georgie’s voice called. “Tet’s get started.” He had shaken hands with Lylda and climbed up to the doorway of the cabin. “Come on, Mr. Rogers. Let’s get started.” Lylda stood apart. Her farewell to her husband was brief. The others turned away, feeling that they should not intrude upon it. When Rogers had joined Georgie on the platform of the plane the Doctor and the Big Business Man were with Lylda comforting her. With a final good-by Rogers slid the door closed. The forward compartment, with $4 It’s ‘THE MAN WHO MASTERED TIME. 707 its low°arch ceiling and its concave walls, was small, but comfortably equipped. The side windows had upholstered seats running under them. In front, to the right, was a low seat with the Frazia controls before it, and a small window above them looking forward. The time dials and the Proton current switch were on the wall to the right. On the left of this seat was the outer, slid- ing door. The division wall between the forward compartment and the engine room behind it held a small doorway with a sliding door. ‘“Are we ready?” Rogers asked. “I think we should be sitting. The shock of departure—new to us—may be more severe than we anticipate.” His words were calm enough, but they sent a thrill of excitement through Georgie. “All ready,” he said. ‘“ Go ahead!” Rogers took a last look about. Then without hesitation, he moved the switch to the first intensity. Georgie was seated, gripping the arms of his chair. The humming seemed very dif- ferent now than when he had heard it out- side the plane. It was no louder, but it seemed to hum and vibrate inside his body. He was quivering inside; his head began reeling dizzily; there came that sickening, horrible sensation of falling headlong—a vertigo that turned everything to blackness. ‘“* Are you all right? We’ve started.” It was Rogers’s anxious voice, Georgie opened his eyes; everything seemed glow- ing, unreal, and ghostlike. But he was unin- | jured; and his head had steadied. “T’m all right,” he managed to say. The sickness passed quickly. Georgie stood up, steadying himself. ‘“Gosh, how light I feel! Queer in the head—don’t you? I never imagined*—” He stopped abruptly. Through a side window the fur-coated figure of the Banker was standing against the wall with the others around him. They were staring at the plane with an expression that clearly indicated they could not see it. “We've started all right,” Georgie added. “Look at them! We’re already in future time to them. They can’t see us.” Suddenly the Banker came forward walk- CoTmmicoooks (S@) Aly Lae | J / AY) Tae GEA OY ce, iT