Caltraps of Time (9 page)

Besides their Cars, on which they love to drive furiously, they have a kind of metallick Pony, but driven by this same Burning, which they call a Mowtasoikle. This makes a worse Roaring even than their Cars; it is much favour’d of Striplings. Another such has no Furnace in it, but you must drive it onward by pushing round with your Feet on two Pieces, that go round. This they call a Boique, and it goes only as fast as a Man may run. Of Horses I scarce saw any, but they use them for Sport.

For that they use so much written Words, to send far, they have perfected a kind of Pencil, that writes with Ink, which it holds within it, and very Black, or Blew, or (indeed) Red or Green. But the Merchants and Houses of Trade (and some Men at Home) have a Machine, that prints Letters upon a Sheet of Paper, when you shall play upon little Keys on it, each mark’d with a different Letter; but it’s Musick is a sad Rattling. And what amaz’d me, they give this work, to young Wenches. So you may read the Word of any Body, without troubling, how hard or easie is his Hand. And I may tell you, their Handwriting is so strange, I cou’d make near nothing of it not above one Letter in twenty, altho’ their Printing is very like ours. A few Persons write, however, in a kind of Italick Hand, very formal, that I cou’d read pretty well. They use little Civility in their Epistles, but affect a strange careless Friendliness, calling all Dear, even those they have never met and hope never to meet. But in their Speech as in their Writing, all their Address is abrupt and careless, so that like Children they use their First Names almost upon first acquaintance, Men with Women too, married or single; yet do they seldom salute each other with the least Gesture, unless it be (upon first Presentation) to clasp Hands.

My Host had Friends some times invited to Supper, and I found, that as this People had so little Civility, they cou’d meerly murmur, And this is Jow (for so they call’d me), and the Company wou’d seek to know no more, so that I cou’d sit and listen, without venturing a word. As I became more bold, I wou’d go out alone, to their Tellie Play-houses as it might be, and pay my Fee at the Door; or make a Sally to a great Shop, where I cou’d chuse all sorts of Wares, and carry ‘em about in a Basket made of Metal, to the Door, where a Good-wife fetch’d ‘em out and made the Reckoning. So I grew us’d to purchasing my Hostess her Provisions, which mightily pleas’d her. The Sheets of Copys, by the way, from Mr Sympkins his Travells, by the Zerrocks, I kept in a Parcel within my Machine.

Some of my Hosts Visitors had Children, that they left at home, and I learnt, that the Children here, for all they make so much sport of their Elders, must work hard, for they suffer their Schooling from Five years of age, to Fifteen, or some more, so that they are grown Men. And the Girls are so school’d likewise. If they wou’d have a good place in Life hereafter, they must do well, before Examiners, for whom they write many times long Discourses and Answers to hard Questions. The elder ones learn even some Natural Philosophy, that some of them may practice to controul those Marvels, by which their World runs. They learn Languages, but little Latin, and many other matters besides.

In September my Host had Business in London, and carry’d me thither in his Car. And here I had another and overwhelming Surprize. For the London that we know was all but gone, save a few Monuments, much blacken’d and almost beyond recognizing, smother’d in the Bellie of a Town, that was more like a whole Countrey, compos’d all of Houses and other Buildings. I cannot begin to give you an Idaea, of the Extent of it, and you will not believe me, when I say, it is about Fifteen Leagues across, and all Buildings, for the most part begrim’d with Smoak. At Night, however, ‘tis much lit up with wonderful Lights of many Colours. (Another cause, they have so little Murthers and Robberies, is, that their Citys are lit near as bright as day.) But when I saw Paul’s, that was in building in my day, and since, they say, finish’d; but now ‘twas half bury’d in the midst of great Buildings hundreds of feet high; I was glad, to come away.

That October, besides the great Sport in Japan, there was in Britain a great Election, when all in England and her Neighbours voted, for a new Government. I thought, there shou’d be Riots, but tho’ the Courants had much to say, Folk round me took’t very coolly. In the end the Tory’s, that had been in more then a dozen years, were out, and t’other Party in. They said, there shou’d be some great Changes, tho’ their numbers were scarce over those of the Tory Members.

It happen’d that one afternoon late in September, my Host’s Wife and I were looking out at the Rain. The Day was a Friday and she said, she wish’d she knew, whether ‘twou’d be fair Weather on the Saturday, or no, for an Excursion. Then she says to me, Why not travel to tomorrow in that Contrapshen, and see? At first I put her off, for I made her see, that if I mov’d to tomorrow, I shou’d meet my self, and that I wou’d by no means do. Then she says, Try the early morning, and keep out of the way of your Bed-room. So at last I agrees, to try early on Saturday morning, and again early on Sunday morning, but to stay below stairs. And to this she says Yes, but nothing wou’d satisfy her, but that she must come with me, to try this manner of Journey. For a long time I sought to disswade her, but in the end I submitted. We pull’d off it’s Cloth, then in we goes into the Machine (mighty press’d together) and I mov’d the Rod and Dial. Seeing that she took little Notice, of how they went, I was the more secure. Then I press’d the Red Knob and she cries out and clasps me for Fear, but I comforted her. We listen’d for a time, but all was still and dark. So then out we crept and softly into the Chamber, where the Tellie was. The Night was something Windy, but we cou’d hear no Rain. At last she and I crept back to the Porch, and gently unlock’d the Door, and so out into their little Park, or Front Garden. Under foot the ground was damp, but there was no Rain falling. A few Stars were in the Heavens, and a Half Moon thro’ the Clowds. Then we stole hand in hand into the Porch again, and made all fast, and so within the Machine. Here I found all the Numbers and Pointers, and other Letters, glowing in the Dark. So I found it easie, to turn the Machine to the Sunday morning. This time ‘twas strong Moon-Light, and no Clowds in the Sky, but the Air was very warm, and the Ground dry. So we thought, ‘twou’d be a fair Week-end. When we were come within again, she wou’d bring me into their Living-Chamber again, that we might enjoy the sight of the Moon, without danger of Surprize from the Watch without. This we did for some time, and I found her more kind, then I had expected. But at length (and I something uneasie with my self) we return’d to the Friday after-noon, and cover’d my Machine again with their great Cloth.

Our Fore-cast was a true one and a fine Journey we had of it all three, but said nothing of our Auguries, to her Husband. From that time she and I often made Tryal of the next Day’s or of the next Week’s weather, but always by Night. As we knew, we were lying both above-stairs in two other Bodys, we had a kind of delight-ful Terror at the thought. In the day-time we were at first Discreet, because many Persons came ever to the House, to bring Provisions, or to reckon for the Electricity, or to sell somewhat at the Door. But at length we grew too secure, and fell to travelling much in the Car to places, where she was little known, and at last, began to snatch Hours, above stairs.

One after-noon towards November, we were but then back from a Sortie into the Night before (for now we were grown so bold, as to do this too, but we took care, not to make three Pair of us that Night) and without covering my Machine again I had follow’d her up to their Bed-Chamber, where we fell a Kissing once more, when her Husband appear’d (who must have come home early, and up the Stairs, but cou’d not be heard). He threw me down the Stairs, which was like to break my Neck. In my Confusion, I stumbled into the Porch, and into the Machine, and mov’d it, without taking breath, two or three furlongs up the Road.

And here I made an Errour, for I found within my Machine the Pole of a Stopping-Place for Busses, and an Old Wife, that screech’d for mortal Fear. I push’d her out, and she went down the Road crying Murther, Help, Murther, and spilling her Merchandize out of her Basket as she went. Then I took counsel with my self, and looking carefully upon the Plats, prepar’d to move within that Colledge, where I first came, but back to my own Time, by the Barn. I set the Dials to the exact Hour, when I first left our Village, for I thought, the earlier Time is perilous, for I shall meet my self, and a later Time is dangerous, for the Villagers will have mark’d my being away, and will press me with Questions; besides if my Machine is seen, I am like to stand Tryal for Witchcraft. I had little Breathing space, for as I turn’d the Dials, I saw a Buss coming up the Road.

When I push’d the Red Knob my Faint-ness nearly overcame me, and a fearful Clowdy-ness beset me, worse then before. I had the Wit to remember, that I had been twice in this Place and Moment, and that if I cou’d wait, my other two selves, and their Machine, shou’d both be gone, the one into the Future, the other into that Early Morning, eleven hours before. At last the Clowdy-ness pass’d. I lock’d the Rod (which at least is some safeguard, I thought), hastily cast off my new Cloathes (one of several Suits I now had) and pull’d on my old; and leaving the others within, as well as Sympkins his Travells from the Zerrocks, I crept forth into the empty Street. Now I sped home as fast as I might, for I had a Plan, to try other Times in the Future, or even in the Past, but first to furnish my self with more Goods (what I had left) to purchase a living there. Unhappily I encounter’d an Old Man that knew me well, who held speech with me, talking I know not what Nonsense, for the better part of ten minutes. At length I escap’d, and took a Wheel-Barrow, and fill’d it with fine Cloathes, and three Pistols, and an Abridgement of Janssonius his Adas, and a quantity of Jewells, and a Mirrour besides. I went back with all to the place, but my Machine was gone. Since ‘twas lock’d, I concluded, the Sorcerer was come back, and had gone off in’t. And so I had nought to do, but to bring my Barrow back, and sadly unload my Gear. I was the poorer by some hundreds of Pounds (1964), the Sheets of Sympkins Travells, and several changes of Cloathing, but the richer by some Memories, a Wrist-Watch, and the Knowledge of an unghessable Future.

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Not So Certain

The Shm’qh, or Sshm-qh, or Sshmeqh (which sounds like ‘shmukh’, only breathier) were getting more unsatisfactory every day. In private, Jacobs cursed them and the whole business of his mission. All had seemed auspicious at first. Here on this planet was an intelligent race with a learnable language, and, all things considered, an almost pronounceable one. The labour of establishing communication had at last begun to bear fruit. Questions could be asked, co-operation could be sought, explanations could be given, propaganda could be made. The human interpreters with the expedition had mastered enough of the language to be able to express almost anything the administration demanded of them, and to follow most of what was said; eventually most of the crew could get along in varying degrees, and Jacobs became himself quite fluent. It was rather like conversing with moths in moth language: no vowels to speak of — except that now and again a surprising clatter of vowelage broke out among the Shm’qh themselves, no one knew why; a lot of feathery, sneezy consonants that no one could quite master. Yet the Shm’qh had tongues, mouths, even teeth (of sorts), a soft enfolding muscle that took the place of lips, and something that passed for a voice-box and lungs. It had proved possible to imitate their words near enough to make oneself understood, with occasional repetitions. The grammar was very unusual, but could be digested after practice. The absence of plurals, except in what passed for pronouns, was a stumbling-block, but one that could be got round.

The natives seemed friendly and surprisingly unalarmed by the human invaders, who were careful to avoid any behaviour that might have been construed as a sign of desire to dominate. They were not inconveniently curious. They had no machinery, but their intelligence was evidently high. They had everything in abundance on their planet: perhaps their intelligence was insufficiently exercised. They were in some competition with the non-intelligent species, but not seriously menaced by disease, parasites, plant or animal predators, or starvation. They did not seem to be trying to conceal anything or deceive the humans. Yet their co-operation seemed to reach a reserve somewhere. There was a barrier, an evasion.

The interpreter of a team would ask ‘Can we return this way?’
(Tsh’ny lh’ly wh’ng ‘zhny’ bv’w w’gh’pf ‘w,
literally ‘Pass shown reverse open eh? self-and-others relevance’: it had been established conclusively that ‘open’ was equivalent to ‘possible’ and ‘shut’ to ‘impossible’, and the order of words in a sentence was now well understood.) The Shm’qh spoken to would answer with a sort of sneeze meaning ‘No’
(Shny’wh)
and the party would go home the long way round. Weeks later it would be discovered that the track avoided, though difficult, was by no means impassable to either species; yet no evidence was ever unearthed of secret activity there which the Shm’qh might have wished to keep inviolate. A man fell down a gully once and when brought back, bones broken, developed a type of pneumonia which did not respond to drugs. ‘Will he live?’
(Ny’p’lw gh’qhty bv’w ‘pf’lh ‘w,
literally ‘Activity continuation eh? the-other relevance’) produced a slow
‘Shnyauwh’
which was taken to mean ‘No’, since the rare vowels apparently meant nothing. The man recovered in a fortnight, after a crisis. Need the Shm’qh have been so brutally pessimistic? In the middle of a native feast two men passing humping an unwieldy generator were much annoyed to hear one of the two nearest natives say to the other, quite loudly and with amusement-posture slanted in their direction,
‘Tyiwhdyim ipf,
which means ‘Folly the-others’ (that is, ‘They’re crazy!’). The posture, the equivalent of a broad grin, involved the wide whipping of the tail, the rocking up and down on out-bent elbows, and the spread of the ear-tufts, with the head turned towards them. Perhaps this was friendly guying, but
ty’whdy’m
was an exceedingly offensive word, as Scatterthwaite had discovered to his cost when he had used it on a native who got too close to a high-tension coil. An abject ceremonial apology had had to be made by Scatterthwaite and Jacobs to the head official and the offended native, before all the tribe, to avert a complete withdrawal of all contact. All the crew were warned never to use the word again. That was three months before the feast incident.