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"I don't think so. I felt the same way, when I thought about it at all. Like what Rod Taylor used in that movie, with a big spi
"Or a DeLorean with a Mister Fusion on the trunk."
"Sure. And it would have some sort of odometer on it... call it a temporometer, maybe, like 'It is now December 4, 54,034 A.D.,' and it's spi
"I thought you just told me—"
"I said I was going to show you what Howard thought was a time machine. And I thought he might be right, at first."
"What else could it be?"
Matt threw up his hands, and paced in a small circle.
"We may never know. Look, it seems certain that the man traveled in time. That is, unless Howard is playing a very expensive joke on poor old Warburton and me, because no one else knows about it... or Warburton is playing a suicidally stupid joke on Howard. I've considered those possibilities long and hard, believe me I have, and concluded I don't have the resources or the will to find out one way or the other. If that's what's happening, I'll end up wasting six months, a year, something like that, and go home with a lot of money. Most of which is already in the bank. I insisted on getting it up front when I realized what he wanted me to do."
"Me, too," Susan said.
"So, why would he want to make us rich? I can't find a reason. And beyond that... I see it in his eyes. He believes in this thing.
"So. The mammoth man is a time traveler. Furthermore, he probably started off from right around here... that is, right around now. The aluminum case is made in Belgium; you can order as many identical ones as you want. I've got three dozen of them. But maybe he got there... I don't know, through a 'time gate' of some sort. You've seen those in the movies, too. You step into a big bright noisy thing, and next thing you know you're in the old Roman Empire. Or aliens abducted him and took him through time and dropped him off in the last Ice Age, and left this thing behind, and it's really an alien child's toy, like building blocks. Or it was some sort of natural or occult phenomenon. A rift opens in space-time, and he falls through it. Or a witch puts a curse on him. Take your pick. Rip van Winkle. A Co
He realized he had almost been shouting. He stopped himself, deliberately calmed down. Susan didn't seem disturbed by it, but she did glance at her watch.
"It's feeding time. I'll have to go now."
"Sorry about that." "No, it's not a problem. But really, Queenie'll get cranky if she doesn't get her feed on time. One thing you don't want to deal with is a cranky elephant."
"Thanks for showing me this." She seemed about to say something else, maybe about the chance she knew he was taking by bringing her here, but she thought better of it. She waved, and started for the door.
When she was almost there, she turned.
"I wouldn't mind sharing a sub sandwich with you again one of these days, though. Maybe you can tell me more."
"Sub sandwich," he snorted. "Listen, I'd like to take you out for a real meal. Kentucky fried
chicken."
"I don't know if I could deal with luxury like that. But I'll try."
"Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow."
He waited until he was sure the door was closed behind her, and then did something he seldom
did. He danced.
FROM "LITTLE FUZZY, A CHILD OF THE ICE AGE"
Life was not all fun and games for the mammoth herd. There were dangerous things, and not just saber-toothed cats.
One day when Temba was browsing in a big tree, pulling down branches with sweet tender leaves on them and thrusting them into her mouth, Fuzzy wandered off a little ways to another tree.
Baby mammoths, like baby elephants, were born knowing how to stand up, how to walk, how to nurse, and they probably know how to swim, too. But they had to learn to use their trunks, just like baby humans have to learn to use their hands. A mammoth's trunk contained many thousands of muscles and a grown-up mammoth could use it to pick up a single leaf or twig!
The way they learned to use their trunks was the same way people or animals learn to use anything: practice!
Fuzzy picked up a branch with his trunk, like he had seen his mother do. He swung it around, hitting things with it.
He hit the trunk of the tree. He hit a big stone.
And the big pile of straw reared up and screamed at him!
It was big! Bigger than Temba, taller than Big Mama! From the tips of its three curved claws to the top of its little, angry head, it was fifteen feet tall.
It was a giant ground sloth.
There is nothing alive today that is anything like a giant ground sloth. Its only living cousin is small and lives in the trees where it hangs upside down and sleeps almost all day. But the giant ground sloth was huge, and there were many of them in California at the time little Fuzzy was born.
Giant ground sloths were plant eaters, like mammoths, and usually they gave the herd no trouble. But they could be cranky, and they didn't like being rudely awakened any more than most animals do. This one took a swing at Fuzzy with his mighty arms, and sent the poor little mammoth tumbling over the dusty ground.
Fuzzy was very frightened, and he cried out for his mother.
Well! In no time at all not only Temba but all the sisters and cousins and aunts and nieces and the young bulls who had not yet left the herd were thundering toward the ground sloth, trumpeting their rage!
They came between Fuzzy and the giant sloth and stomped and flapped their ears and lifted their trunks. The sloth stood his ground, roaring back, and it could have gotten bloody, but finally the sloth turned around and lumbered away.
The mammoths did not chase him.
Fuzzy cowered in Temba's shadow for a while until everybody was calmed down. He would remember the smell of the giant ground sloth, and he would run away if he ever saw one again!
13
THERE was still much work to do. From the start Matt had decided there were basically two ways to go about this. One: Repair this machine. Two: Build another just like it. On his third day of work he had put the question to Howard Christian. Which approach do you
favor, Howard? "Do 'em both," Howard had replied.
Easier said than done.
NO two of the marbles were alike.
Some of them appeared to be pretty much exactly that: marbles. They were glass, always of a uniform color. Basically silicon, with various impurities. Over a thousand were minerals, almost anything that could be shaped into a sphere and polished to close tolerances. Any geology student in the world would have loved to have these; many were quite beautiful. Among them were precious and semiprecious stones, including a diamond sphere and others of emerald and sapphire. The remainder were metals, sometimes pure and sometimes alloys.
Full analysis of all 2,401 balls took almost a month after the day Matt first invited Susan into his lab. It was quite a job, and nobody could say it was dull.