Authentic Science Fiction, No. 23 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

AQ) THE SINGING SPHERES numbers of people must assemble near these machines, so that accommodation is required—” I felt my head swimming again, as it had done when that shrill singing over the inter-com reached unendurable inten- © sity. Machines? “Into an unknown cavern,” continued Fuzzy-bubble, pick- ing up the threads again. “It still exists. It is our only link with the Wise Ones. ‘Therein he discovered a strange engine which baffled our best scientists for many generations. Now, however, we have learned to operate it, although imperfectly. We call it the Machine of Revelation.” For quite a long time I thought about waking Hartnell. This was more in his line than mine, but eventually I decided that a third party on the Mattus might make affairs more con- fused than they were already. Besides, I’d had an inspiration of my own. “Is this anything to do with the Day of Revela- tion?’ I asked. “Oh, yes. That is the day—once every ten years—when the Machine may be operated.” “And the next occasion’s been advanced to—tomorrow?”’ Now the Mattus is undoubtedly a wonderful instrument, but in certain ways it possesses strange defects. All this time, while I had been translating the story into our own language, it had been pressing into my mind a torrent of hazy mental pictures and mysteriously acquired knowledge in order to carry out its job of communication. the Machine looked like or how it worked or what purpose it accomplished. Perhaps Fuzzy-bubble himself didn’t know— And then I grasped the explanation. I switched off hur- riedly, not forgetting that the Mattus operates both ways and the sphere would otherwise have learned of my sudden doubts. Fuzzy-bubble was afraid—not only of the legendary Wise Ones and of the Machine itself, but of something else. It concerned the Machine—of that I was certain—but what could it be?” I switched on again. If Fuzzy-bubble had missed my. attention during this brief period, he gave no sign. “The Machine,” I said. “What does it do?” He seemed distinctly uncomfortable and embarrassed. Then, very slowly, half-unwillingly, he said, “It enables us to foretell the future—” And with that I had no hesitation about waking Hartnell. Yet I had no idea what : THE SINGING SPHERES Al I grabbed his arm and shook him madly, switching on the in- ter-com and yelling at the top of my voice. I heard Tubby jump convulsively and bump himself on the hard stone floor. ; Bor Virgins of Vega!” said Hartnell. “What’s happen- ing? “Makkub popped off or something?” demanded Tubby. “Listen!” I said. “That Day of Revelation business—it’s a revelation, all right. They’ve got a machine that goes ahead im time!” For a moment astonishment slammed them into silence. Hartnell laughed and said: “Now I’ve heard everything!” “I’ve always wanted to take pictures of the day after to- morrow,” said Tubby, disbelievingly. “Well, that’s what Fuzzy-bubble’s just told me,” I said; with more than a hint of stuffiness. “I thought you’d want to hear about it instead of snoring your heads off—” How they could have gone to sleep in our present circumstances was entirely beyond me—but they did, and they definitely snored. “Sorry, Pop.” Hartnell’s voice held a note of apology that mollified me somewhat. “Now tell us again—slowly.” Afterwards, of course, they were both eager to know more, so I contacted Fuzzy-bubble again. ‘“‘The future? How far into the future?” The difficulty, I gathered, lay in the fact that they did not know how to operate the machine efficiently. Either the apparatus had deteriorated during long centuries of inatten- tion or its principles were imperfectly understood. Bis a few hours, sometimes a few days,” came the reply. Hartnell frowned reflectively. “These bubbles are intelli- gent, all right. See what they’re going to do? They don’t know whether we can help ’em or not, so they’re going to find out what we may get up to while we’re here—” A good many objections came to mind. What guarantee was there that the machine told the truth? If it portrayed some unpleasant happening, couldn’t measures be taken in advance to avert it? And if, as a result, a particular occur- rence didn’t materialise after being foretold, how could the spheres claim that the future was predicted accurately? “It reminds you of the old joke,” said Hartnell. “The man who said if he knew where he was going to die he’d take good care never to go there—” cComicbooks.co