Chapter 2 Ocean Crack-Up


The fear that was in Dave’s eyes leaped across the small room like charged lightning. Neil felt every ounce of blood drain out of his body to leave him limp. He had the strange desire to run down the ladder and leap through the hatchway. He knew fear then, raw, uncontrolled, unreasoning fear.

“What… what…” he stammered.

“There’s something wrong. I knew it the minute I cut in the time crystal. Something wrong, Neil. I can’t control anything. I can’t control our speed, time or space, either one. Something’s jammed.”

“What-what shall we do?”

Dave pulled a lever on the instrument panel. Nothing happened. He pushed the lever in again, pulled it out again.

Nothing.

“You see? No response. Dead. Dead as last year’s calendar.”

Neil stared at the lever in disbelief.

“But all the dials are working,” he protested.

“Sure, but I can’t control her, Neil.”

Dave made an infuriated, helpless gesture. “Darn it, darn it, DARN IT!” he shouted.

“Easy, Dave. There must be some way out.”

Quickly, Dave scrambled to his feet. “Give me a hand here, Neil,” he said. “The only thing we can do is try to cut our time travel speed. If we can.”

“What about our space travel?”

“Can’t do a thing with it. It’s stuck at top speed. One hundred and fifty miles an hour. And the worst part is I don’t know where we’re going.”

Together, they grabbed a sticklike handle that jutted out of the instrument panel. “We’ve got to yank this as far down as she’ll go, Neil. Ready?”

“Ready,” Neil said tensely.

“Let’s go then! Pull!”

Neil strained at the handle, pulling with all the strength in his arms. Beside him, Dave grunted and struggled with all his power.

“Pull, Neil, pull!”

“I’m… pulling.”

“Harder.”

The handle moved down a notch.

“More,” Dave said through clenched teeth.

Slowly, reluctantly, the handle edged its way down another quarter of an inch. Neil felt all the strength in his body concentrate in his arms and shoulders. His neck muscles stood out taut as they struggled against his skin, seeming ready to burst through.

Again, the handle crept down a trifle.

Dave’s labored voice reached Neil above the beating in his eardrums.

“A little… more… just a… little… more.”

Neil braced himself and pulled, pulled harder than he’d ever done in his life. Sweat broke out on his face and neck, and his eyes seemed ready to pop. Still he tugged at the rebellious handle, his muscles straining against the tremendous power of the machine.

Dave suddenly let go. “Enough, Neil. Enough.”

Neil relaxed his grip on the handle. His chest rose and fell laboriously as he took in great gulps of air. His arms felt dead, two limp, dangling, useless burdens hanging at his sides.

“We got her to half-speed,” Dave said. “I don’t think it’ll go any farther.”

Together they collapsed to the floor of the control room, neither speaking, both breathing hard.

From below, the voices of Arthur Blake and Doctor Manning chattered on excitedly.

Neil sighed deeply and said, “What now?”

Dave shrugged. He was lying on his back on the floor, one arm over his eyes. “I don’t know, Neil,” he said softly.

“Shouldn’t we tell the others?”

“I don’t think so. Not yet. There’ll be plenty of time later. We’ll have to see what happens first.”

“What can happen?” Neil wanted to know.

“Anything,” Dave said. “Anything.”

Slowly, he got to his feet and walked over to the inter-com. He depressed the speaking lever and said, “How is it down there, boys?”

“Wonderful,” Arthur Blake answered. “You should see the effects out here, Dave. Fantastic.”

“Look,” Dave said, “Neil and I are going to be doing a little calibrating up here for the next few hours. Think you two fellows can find enough to keep you busy down there?”

“Sure, sure,” Arthur Blake said. “Just forget we’re around.”

“We’ll buzz you when we’re through,” Dave said. He released the speaking lever and turned to face Neil. “Well,” he sighed, “that takes care of them for a while.”

“And what do we do now?” Neil wanted to know.

“We wait,” Dave said simply, a defeated sadness in his brown eyes.

* * * *

They waited. The machine hummed on, every two seconds carrying them a month into the past now that the controls were set at half-speed. And the machine moved geographically at a speed of one hundred and fifty miles an hour.

A sudden click echoed through the aluminum chamber.

“What’s that?” Neil asked, jumping to his feet.

Dave’s eyes scanned the instrument panel rapidly. Quickly, he ran to the emergency handle they’d used to cut the time speed of the machine. The handle had snapped up to the full-speed position again.

Dave looked at it mournfully. Then, suddenly, his face crumpled into a smile. “No use being grim, I guess. This old machine is just a stubborn cuss, that’s all.”

Together, he and Neil tried to force the handle down again. It wouldn’t budge at all.

“Say,” Doctor Manning’s booming voice cut in over the inter-com, “how much longer will you two be up there? We’re getting hungry.”

Dave smiled and spoke into the inter-com. “A few hours yet. You fellows go ahead and eat. We’ll have a bite up here.”

“Can’t you come down for a few minutes?” Doctor Manning complained.

“Impossible,” Dave answered. “Go on and eat.”

“Well, all right, if you say so.”

The speaker went dead.

“We’ve got to stay up here,” Dave explained. “There’s no telling what might happen.”

They slumped against the aluminum wall of the ship again, exhausted, waiting for the worst.

After five hours of top-speed travel, it happened.

At first, it was just a low rumble in the generator. Dave jumped to his feet immediately. He rushed to the inter-com and threw the switch. “Attention, down there. Attention! There’s going to be trouble. Adjust your safety belts immediately.”

Doctor Manning’s voice boomed into the control room. “Are you kidding us, Dave?”

The rumble in the generator grew louder. Spasmodically, the motor attached to the twin rotors began to cough.

“That’s an order,” Dave barked. “Adjust your safety belts at once!”

“Trouble, Dave?” Doctor Manning asked.

“Serious trouble,” Dave snapped. “Stand by for a crash landing, Doc.”

“Need any help up there?”

“Nope. Just adjust those safety belts and brace your…”

Suddenly, without warning, the machine began to tremble violently.

“Stand by,” Dave barked into the speaker.

The floor began to pitch beneath Neil’s feet. And then the machine began to spin crazily, round and round, over and over, like a mad plastic and aluminum pinwheel in the sky. Neil was smashed into the wail, his shoulder filling instantly with pain.

“We’re losing altitude,” Dave shouted above the roar of the throbbing generator and motor. He was lifted from his feet and sent scuttling across the floor. He bounced against the far wall, bounced off again, and was lifted into the air to crash with a sickening thud beside Neil. Neil staggered to his feet, clutching one of the wall lockers for support. The machine gave a final, frightening shudder and dropped like a stone. Neil’s fingers were pried loose from the wall locker, and he was flung backward against the instrument panel.

Wave after wave of grayness folded in on Neil, engulfing him, growing grayer and grayer, and then black, and blacker, and then there was nothing but the aching throb in his shoulder and the terrible sound that burst in his ears.

The machine seemed to erupt into a thousand living skyrockets that screamed in Neil’s head, shooting live sparks into every corner of his mind.

And above the scream of the skyrockets, there was a human scream that penetrated the darkness.

Beneath it all, like a tiny insistent hammer that pounded at his skull, Neil knew the machine had crashed, and before he dropped off into unconsciousness, he wondered vaguely where they were-and in what time.


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