Adventures in the Far Future & Tales of Outer Space — page 142: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Then, in a colossal flash of enlightenment, it came over him. The tangle of guts floating before his eyes spoke in a deep, vibrant voice: “We aren’t gods. We can’t tell you the truth and not blow your brains out like an electric chair. But if you discover for yourself—” Striker, abruptly, was disembodied and hurled into the past. Painless, soulless, he was there to see and remember. Very, very slowly the intelligence he had experienced began to take form. Slowly the matrix dissociated from _ its background and emerged aglow with meaning: One million years into the past slid the ego of Striker and again he saw his own world, but as he had never seen it before. From the cold black of space he looked down with eyesight incredibly clear and at the same time heard and understood the strange babble of two billion tongues and followed the thread of two billion lives. He discerned himself on the roof of the bleak, barnlike Structure on Staten Island, the highest point of the Eastern Seaboard, stepping into the cubicle on which he had been laboring intermittently for the past eighteen years. Striker dispassionately saw himself as he had been—clear gray eyes Staring fearlessly into the future. He well knew that the cluster of men about him, his assistants who operated the external controls of his time-catapult, were smaller of soul. Without hatred he clearly saw into the mind of his young assistant the festering thought: “...hope the old swine never comes back-risking his priceless reserves: time, money, me....” And the thought trailed off into a rotten pocket of Suppurating vileness. A slam of sound and a flash of light and Striker saw that he had vanished from the cabinet. Watching from the black of space, he felt no pain or shock. What had happened to this other Striker had happened. His attention focused sharply on other things of his day: hospitals, factory, shipyards. With the cruel dissecting eyes of a surgeon he probed into the lives of his people, keenly CORniclooo SS CO