The View Further Ahead

“I have already told you of the sickness and confusion that comes with time travelling. And this time I was not seated properly in the saddle, but sideways and in an unstable fashion. For an indefinite time I clung to the machine as it swayed and vibrated, quite unheeding how I went, and when I brought myself to look at the dials again I was amazed to find where I had arrived. One dial records days, and another thousands of days, another millions of days, and another thousands of millions. Now, instead of reversing the levers, I had pulled them over so as to go forward with them, and when I came to look at these indicators I found that the thousands hand was sweeping round as fast as the seconds hand of a watch—into futurity.

“I have already told you about the sickness and confusion that come with time travel. And this time I was not sitting properly in the saddle. Instead, I sat sideways and unsteadily. For an unknown length of time, I clung to the machine as it swayed and vibrated. I paid no attention to how I was travelling. When I finally made myself look at the dials again, I was amazed to see where I had arrived. One dial records days, another thousands of days, another millions of days, and another billions. Now, instead of reversing the levers, I had pulled them to move forward in time. When I looked at the dials, I saw the thousands hand sweeping around as fast as a watch’s second hand. I was travelling into the future.”

“As I drove on, a peculiar change crept over the appearance of things. The palpitating greyness grew darker; then—though I was still travelling with prodigious velocity—the blinking succession of day and night, which was usually indicative of a slower pace, returned, and grew more and more marked. This puzzled me very much at first. The alternations of night and day grew slower and slower, and so did the passage of the sun across the sky, until they seemed to stretch through centuries. At last a steady twilight brooded over the earth, a twilight only broken now and then when a comet glared across the darkling sky. The band of light that had indicated the sun had long since disappeared; for the sun had ceased to set—it simply rose and fell in the west, and grew ever broader and more red. All trace of the moon had vanished. The circling of the stars, growing slower and slower, had given place to creeping points of light. At last, some time before I stopped, the sun, red and very large, halted motionless upon the horizon, a vast dome glowing with a dull heat, and now and then suffering a momentary extinction. At one time it had for a little while glowed more brilliantly again, but it speedily reverted to its sullen red heat. I perceived by this slowing down of its rising and setting that the work of the tidal drag was done. The earth had come to rest with one face to the sun, even as in our own time the moon faces the earth. Very cautiously, for I remembered my former headlong fall, I began to reverse my motion. Slower and slower went the circling hands until the thousands one seemed motionless and the daily one was no longer a mere mist upon its scale. Still slower, until the dim outlines of a desolate beach grew visible.

“As I drove on, a strange change crept over the appearance of everything around me. The pulsing grayness grew darker. Then, although I was still traveling at tremendous speed, the flickering sequence of day and night returned. That usually meant I was moving more slowly, and the flickering grew more and more distinct. At first, I found this very puzzling. The alternation of night and day grew slower and slower, as did the sun’s passage across the sky. Eventually, both seemed to stretch over centuries. At last, a steady twilight hung over the earth. Only now and then did a comet break the twilight, blazing across the darkening sky. The band of light that had marked the sun had long since disappeared, because the sun had stopped setting. It simply rose and fell in the west, growing ever wider and redder. All trace of the moon had vanished. The stars circled more and more slowly, until they became points of light that barely crept along. At last, some time before I stopped, the huge red sun stood motionless on the horizon. It was a vast dome glowing with dull heat, and now and then its light briefly went out. At one point, the sun had shone more brightly again for a short while. But it quickly returned to its gloomy red glow. From the slowing of its rising and setting, I understood that tidal drag had finished its work. The earth had stopped turning, with one side facing the sun, just as the moon faces the earth today. Very cautiously, I began to reverse my motion, remembering my earlier headlong fall. The hands on the dials circled more and more slowly, until the thousands hand seemed motionless. The daily hand was no longer just a blur on its scale. The hands slowed still further, until the faint outlines of a desolate beach came into view.”

“I stopped very gently and sat upon the Time Machine, looking round. The sky was no longer blue. North-eastward it was inky black, and out of the blackness shone brightly and steadily the pale white stars. Overhead it was a deep Indian red and starless, and south-eastward it grew brighter to a glowing scarlet where, cut by the horizon, lay the huge hull of the sun, red and motionless. The rocks about me were of a harsh reddish colour, and all the trace of life that I could see at first was the intensely green vegetation that covered every projecting point on their south-eastern face. It was the same rich green that one sees on forest moss or on the lichen in caves: plants which like these grow in a perpetual twilight.

“I stopped very gently and sat on the Time Machine, looking around. The sky was no longer blue. To the northeast, the sky was inky black. Pale white stars shone brightly and steadily out of the darkness. Overhead, the sky was a deep brick red, without stars. To the southeast, the sky brightened to a glowing scarlet. There, the huge body of the sun lay partly below the horizon, red and motionless. The rocks around me were a harsh reddish color. At first, the only sign of life I could see was the intensely green vegetation on the rocks. It covered every jutting point on their southeastern sides. The vegetation had the same rich green as forest moss or lichen in caves. Like the vegetation around me, those plants grow in constant twilight.

“The machine was standing on a sloping beach. The sea stretched away to the south-west, to rise into a sharp bright horizon against the wan sky. There were no breakers and no waves, for not a breath of wind was stirring. Only a slight oily swell rose and fell like a gentle breathing, and showed that the eternal sea was still moving and living. And along the margin where the water sometimes broke was a thick incrustation of salt—pink under the lurid sky. There was a sense of oppression in my head, and I noticed that I was breathing very fast. The sensation reminded me of my only experience of mountaineering, and from that I judged the air to be more rarefied than it is now.

“The machine stood on a sloping beach. The sea stretched away to the southwest, rising to a sharp, bright horizon against the pale sky. There were no breaking waves or other waves, because not a breath of wind stirred. Only a slight, oily swell rose and fell like gentle breathing. The swell showed that the eternal sea was still moving and alive. And along the edge where the water sometimes broke lay a thick crust of salt, pink under the harsh sky. I felt pressure in my head and noticed I was breathing very fast. The feeling reminded me of my only experience of mountain climbing. From that similarity, I judged that the air was thinner than it is now.”

“Far away up the desolate slope I heard a harsh scream, and saw a thing like a huge white butterfly go slanting and fluttering up into the sky and, circling, disappear over some low hillocks beyond. The sound of its voice was so dismal that I shivered and seated myself more firmly upon the machine. Looking round me again, I saw that, quite near, what I had taken to be a reddish mass of rock was moving slowly towards me. Then I saw the thing was really a monstrous crab-like creature. Can you imagine a crab as large as yonder table, with its many legs moving slowly and uncertainly, its big claws swaying, its long antennæ, like carters’ whips, waving and feeling, and its stalked eyes gleaming at you on either side of its metallic front? Its back was corrugated and ornamented with ungainly bosses, and a greenish incrustation blotched it here and there. I could see the many palps of its complicated mouth flickering and feeling as it moved.

“Far away up the barren slope, I heard a harsh scream. I saw something like a huge white butterfly fluttering diagonally up into the sky. It circled, then disappeared over some low hills beyond. Its cry was so mournful that I shivered and settled myself more firmly on the machine. Looking around again, I saw something quite close moving slowly toward me. I had mistaken it for a reddish mass of rock. Then I realized it was actually a monstrous crab-like creature. Can you imagine a crab as large as that table over there? Can you picture its many legs moving slowly and uncertainly, its big claws swaying? Its long antennae waved and felt around like wagon drivers’ whips. Its eyes gleamed at you from stalks on either side of its metallic-looking front. Its back was ridged and covered with awkward-looking knobs, with patches of greenish crust here and there. As the creature moved, I could see the many feelers around its complex mouth flickering and feeling their way.”

“As I stared at this sinister apparition crawling towards me, I felt a tickling on my cheek as though a fly had lighted there. I tried to brush it away with my hand, but in a moment it returned, and almost immediately came another by my ear. I struck at this, and caught something threadlike. It was drawn swiftly out of my hand. With a frightful qualm, I turned, and I saw that I had grasped the antenna of another monster crab that stood just behind me. Its evil eyes were wriggling on their stalks, its mouth was all alive with appetite, and its vast ungainly claws, smeared with an algal slime, were descending upon me. In a moment my hand was on the lever, and I had placed a month between myself and these monsters. But I was still on the same beach, and I saw them distinctly now as soon as I stopped. Dozens of them seemed to be crawling here and there, in the sombre light, among the foliated sheets of intense green.

“As I stared at the sinister creature crawling towards me, I felt a tickle on my cheek. It felt as though a fly had landed there. I tried to brush it away, but a moment later the tickling returned. Almost immediately, I felt another tickle by my ear. I swatted at it and caught something like a thread. It was pulled swiftly out of my hand. With a sickening rush of fear, I turned. I saw that I had grabbed the antenna of another giant crab standing just behind me. Its evil eyes wriggled on their stalks, and its mouth moved hungrily. Its huge, clumsy claws, smeared with slimy algae, were reaching down towards me. In a moment, my hand was on the lever, and I had put a month between myself and these monsters. But I was still on the same beach. As soon as I stopped, I could see the crabs clearly now. Dozens of them seemed to be crawling here and there in the dim light, among the leaflike sheets of vivid green.

“I cannot convey the sense of abominable desolation that hung over the world. The red eastern sky, the northward blackness, the salt Dead Sea, the stony beach crawling with these foul, slow-stirring monsters, the uniform poisonous-looking green of the lichenous plants, the thin air that hurts one’s lungs: all contributed to an appalling effect. I moved on a hundred years, and there was the same red sun—a little larger, a little duller—the same dying sea, the same chill air, and the same crowd of earthy crustacea creeping in and out among the green weed and the red rocks. And in the westward sky, I saw a curved pale line like a vast new moon.

“I cannot describe the terrible sense of emptiness and abandonment that hung over the world. The eastern sky was red, and darkness lay to the north. There was the salty Dead Sea, and the stony beach crawled with these foul, slow-moving monsters. The lichen-like plants were all the same poisonous-looking green. The thin air hurt my lungs. All of it created a horrifying scene. I traveled forward a hundred years, and the same red sun was there, a little larger and a little dimmer. There was the same dying sea, the same cold air, and the same mass of earth-colored crustaceans. They crawled in and out among the green seaweed and the red rocks. And in the western sky, I saw a pale curved line like an enormous new moon.”

“So I travelled, stopping ever and again, in great strides of a thousand years or more, drawn on by the mystery of the earth’s fate, watching with a strange fascination the sun grow larger and duller in the westward sky, and the life of the old earth ebb away. At last, more than thirty million years hence, the huge red-hot dome of the sun had come to obscure nearly a tenth part of the darkling heavens. Then I stopped once more, for the crawling multitude of crabs had disappeared, and the red beach, save for its livid green liverworts and lichens, seemed lifeless. And now it was flecked with white. A bitter cold assailed me. Rare white flakes ever and again came eddying down. To the north-eastward, the glare of snow lay under the starlight of the sable sky, and I could see an undulating crest of hillocks pinkish white. There were fringes of ice along the sea margin, with drifting masses farther out; but the main expanse of that salt ocean, all bloody under the eternal sunset, was still unfrozen.

“So I travelled in great leaps of a thousand years or more, stopping now and then. The mystery of the earth’s fate drew me on. With a strange fascination, I watched the sun grow larger and dimmer in the western sky. I watched the life of the old earth fade away. At last, more than thirty million years into the future, the sun’s huge, red-hot dome covered nearly a tenth of the darkening sky. Then I stopped once more, for the swarms of crawling crabs had disappeared. The red beach seemed lifeless except for its sickly green liverworts and lichens. And now the beach was speckled with white. Bitter cold struck me. Now and then, a few white flakes swirled down. To the northeast, snow gleamed beneath the starlight in the black sky. I could see a rolling ridge of small hills, pinkish white. Ice fringed the edge of the sea, with masses of ice drifting farther out. But the main stretch of that salt ocean, blood-red all over beneath the endless sunset, was still unfrozen.

“I looked about me to see if any traces of animal life remained. A certain indefinable apprehension still kept me in the saddle of the machine. But I saw nothing moving, in earth or sky or sea. The green slime on the rocks alone testified that life was not extinct. A shallow sandbank had appeared in the sea and the water had receded from the beach. I fancied I saw some black object flopping about upon this bank, but it became motionless as I looked at it, and I judged that my eye had been deceived, and that the black object was merely a rock. The stars in the sky were intensely bright and seemed to me to twinkle very little.

“I looked around to see if any signs of animal life remained. A vague fear I could not explain still kept me in the machine’s saddle. But I saw nothing moving on land, in the sky, or in the sea. Only the green slime on the rocks showed that life was not extinct. A shallow sandbank had appeared in the sea, and the water had drawn back from the beach. I thought I saw some black object flopping about on the sandbank. But the object became motionless as I watched. I decided my eyes had fooled me and the black object was only a rock. The stars in the sky were intensely bright and seemed to twinkle very little.”

“Suddenly I noticed that the circular westward outline of the sun had changed; that a concavity, a bay, had appeared in the curve. I saw this grow larger. For a minute perhaps I stared aghast at this blackness that was creeping over the day, and then I realised that an eclipse was beginning. Either the moon or the planet Mercury was passing across the sun’s disk. Naturally, at first I took it to be the moon, but there is much to incline me to believe that what I really saw was the transit of an inner planet passing very near to the earth.

“Suddenly I noticed that the sun’s curved western edge had changed. An inward curve, like a bay, had appeared along the edge. I watched the bay grow larger. For perhaps a minute, I stared in horror at the darkness creeping over the day. Then I realized that an eclipse was beginning. Either the moon or the planet Mercury was passing across the sun’s disk. Naturally, at first I thought it was the moon. But much leads me to believe I actually saw an inner planet passing across the sun, very near the earth.

“The darkness grew apace; a cold wind began to blow in freshening gusts from the east, and the showering white flakes in the air increased in number. From the edge of the sea came a ripple and whisper. Beyond these lifeless sounds the world was silent. Silent? It would be hard to convey the stillness of it. All the sounds of man, the bleating of sheep, the cries of birds, the hum of insects, the stir that makes the background of our lives—all that was over. As the darkness thickened, the eddying flakes grew more abundant, dancing before my eyes; and the cold of the air more intense. At last, one by one, swiftly, one after the other, the white peaks of the distant hills vanished into blackness. The breeze rose to a moaning wind. I saw the black central shadow of the eclipse sweeping towards me. In another moment the pale stars alone were visible. All else was rayless obscurity. The sky was absolutely black.

“The darkness grew quickly. A cold wind began to blow from the east in stronger gusts. More and more white flakes fell through the air. From the edge of the sea came a ripple and a whisper. Apart from these lifeless sounds, the world was silent. Silent? It would be hard to describe the stillness. All human sounds, the bleating of sheep, the cries of birds, the hum of insects had ended. All the activity that forms the background of our lives was over. As the darkness deepened, more flakes swirled and danced before my eyes, and the air grew colder. At last, the white peaks of the distant hills vanished into blackness, one by one, quickly following each other. The breeze grew into a moaning wind. I saw the black central shadow of the eclipse sweeping toward me. A moment later, only the pale stars were visible. Everything else was lost in darkness, without a ray of light. The sky was completely black.”

“A horror of this great darkness came on me. The cold, that smote to my marrow, and the pain I felt in breathing, overcame me. I shivered, and a deadly nausea seized me. Then like a red-hot bow in the sky appeared the edge of the sun. I got off the machine to recover myself. I felt giddy and incapable of facing the return journey. As I stood sick and confused I saw again the moving thing upon the shoal—there was no mistake now that it was a moving thing—against the red water of the sea. It was a round thing, the size of a football perhaps, or, it may be, bigger, and tentacles trailed down from it; it seemed black against the weltering blood-red water, and it was hopping fitfully about. Then I felt I was fainting. But a terrible dread of lying helpless in that remote and awful twilight sustained me while I clambered upon the saddle.

“The deep darkness filled me with horror. The cold pierced me to the bone, and the pain of breathing overwhelmed me. I shivered, and a terrible nausea seized me. Then the edge of the sun appeared like a red-hot bow in the sky. I got off the machine to recover. I felt dizzy and unable to face the return journey. As I stood there, sick and confused, I again saw the moving thing on the shoal against the red sea. There was no doubt now that the thing was moving. The thing was round, perhaps the size of a football, or possibly bigger, with tentacles trailing down from it. It looked black against the churning, blood-red water and hopped about in uneven bursts. Then I felt I was about to faint. But a terrible fear of lying helpless in that distant, dreadful twilight kept me going as I climbed onto the saddle.”