Read Online Stories About Things by Aelius Blythe - Free Book Online Page A

old
work and began to work on a new theory using the human mind as both
the vessel and power source. He experienced great success in this
venture. Soon, he could, in theory, make hours race ahead,
allowing, for example, one to experience the end and beginning of a
dull dinner party without any of the in-between parts that made it
dull. Or, he could slow seconds down to a near stand still allowing
more time for enjoyable things, like love-making, cherry pie, and
good books.
    There were two problems with his research.
First, though he could slow down time or speed it up into the
future, he had not yet figured out how to go backwards. He
hypothesized, however, that this was possible, and kept working at
it. Perhaps a combination of factors could exert enough force on
the mind to make it turn backwards.
    He tried many formulas to achieve this. For
example: a lecture on the tree-ant's sleeping patters plus full
logarithm tales plus a twelve foot pile of manila folders to be
filed. That one was pretty close; it managed to bring time to a
near standstill. But still it would not go backwards.
    The second problem was the interference of
the subconscious. If left alone, it would drag the host through the
dull moments, expanding seconds into hours, and collapse hours into
seconds during the fantastic moments.
    Dr. Ellis theorized that this was an
evolutionary mechanism, and quite a powerful one. Nature wanted the
organism to realize just how boring the boring moments were, so it
would avoid those in the future. The organism also needed to get
through the fantastic moments quickly so that they could seek out
more and more of these. While no doubt a biological advantage, this
was exactly the tendency he wished to counter.
    The subconscious problem was a particular
beast. The doctor worked obsessively on it. He thought it was
rather as if the subconscious controlled walking. One could try all
morning to arrive at work, only to end up at the theater or the
bakery.
    To solve the problem, he tried many methods
of distracting the subconscious. (Would it falter for a raspberry
torte? Or a well-proportioned blonde?) If it were distracted long
enough, then the conscious mind could sneak off through time. He
also tried tricking the subconscious mind into inverting its
natural patterns (would a caramel cheesecake make work meetings fly
by? Would a persistent itch make a holiday last forever?) The
subconscious, however, was a stubborn and well-disciplined
creature. It had made its patterns and stuck with them like
cement.
    Still, he worked and he worked. One night, as
he was fiddling with a distraction contraption he'd built, he cut
his finger on a piece of aluminum foil. He tried to ignore it, but
the blood dripped all over the contraption and ran onto his notes.
He went to the bathroom to find a bandage.
    He opened the door, with the non-bloody hand,
and walked into the bathroom. There was somebody there! He jumped
in alarm, shoulders twitching, hands shaking. Seeing the stranger's
reflection, he whirled to accost the intruder. But his knee gave
way, spilling him to the floor. When he looked up, the stranger had
gone. Shaking, knee throbbing, he stood, gripped the sink. There!
He was back! Slowly this time, but still trembling he turned his
head. But as he did, the stranger turned away. They turned back and
stared at each other, the mirror in between.
    Dr. Ellis looked at his own drooping skin and
pale eyebrows.
    "No!" he yelled. "I don't know how to go back
yet!"
    He stumbled back to his desk. His notes were
all in disarray. He clawed through them desperately.
    "There must be a key in here somewhere!"
    Crimson drips fell from his finger.
    Through stacks of diagrams and formulas his
withered hands searched.
    "I know I can fix it...I know I can fix
it..."
    The faster he searched, the longer his
grizzled hair grew. Joints groaned and stiffened. His concave chest
struggled to expand enough for air.
    "There must...be a way...to go...back."
    His head