Typeractive Tales: A Collection of Clean Short Fiction Page 14

  * Chrono-Ether is the term I have come up with to describe the raw substance of the fourth-dimension. Time traveling can be thought of as swimming through the seas of time and Chrono-Ether is the water which fills that sea.

 

  7:57 – Thursday

  Fortune favors the bold. George is still alive. I can’t wait any longer; I must experience the miracle of time travel for myself.

  My mind reels with the possibilities.

  8:15 – Thursday

  Passing through the Chrono-Ether is beyond my ability to describe. Yet, for the sake of science I will try my best.

  How appropriate were my earlier comments about swimming in an ocean, because that is the closest mundane experience to which I can relate it. Amid bright flashes of color came images of the real world; whether reflections of our dimension or another I cannot be sure. They flashed by like so many bits of flotsam caught in the currents of time. So too were sounds, mostly segments of dialogue, that passed in a similar manner. All of it transpired too quickly for me to tell for sure, but it seemed that the images and sounds had no connection to one another.

  More remarkable than the parade of future events that I witnessed was a sensation that I will never forget. It felt as if all knowledge waited at my fingertips. That all points, past and future, were within my grasp and I merely needed to reach out and take them. Indeed, while in the fourth-dimension no secrets existed for me.

  Unfortunately, that knowledge remained in the waters of time. I can recall only a few of the scenes that I witnessed, but the secrets are gone.

  On my return, I made a startling discovery. I am younger than when I left. Or perhaps it would be better to state that my body no longer exhibits any signs of aging. The few gray hairs and wrinkles that I had are now gone. My muscles feel youthful and my knee no longer creaks every time I stand up.

  Considerable research will be required before I know for certain the cause of this renewed youth, but I can guess that immersion in the Chrono-Ether may have stripped away the effects of time, leaving me in prime physical condition.

  Ponce de Leon searched in vain for the Fountain of Youth and here I have discovered it quite by accident.

  Even though I feel renewed, the ordeal has taken a toll on me. A small nap should help and then I can continue with my experiments.

  21:47 - Thursday

  My nap lasted longer than I had anticipated. When I returned to the lab I discovered two disturbing facts. The first was that my father’s pocket watch has tarnished. It has been a little over a day since I polished it and yet it looks as if it has sat in drawer for many long years, forgotten and neglected.

  The second development is that George has gained a limp. I have seen this sort of affliction in rats of an advanced age.

  What has caused this accelerated temporal decay? And how long before it affects me?

  9:47 – Friday

  George is dead. An autopsy indicated death by natural causes—old age. Except that there’s nothing natural about the rate at which he aged.

  My initial instincts are to associate this pheno -

  9:54 – Friday

  Whatever happened to George and the pocket watch has just happened to me. Minutes ago, while typing my morning report, I felt an intense burning sensation on the back of my hand, like I had been lashed with a flaming cord. When I looked, I noticed a strip of flesh wrinkled and spotted with age; quite a contrast to the youthful skin around it.

  10:47 - Friday

  Once again, a portion of my body has aged; a large section of my forehead. I nearly fainted from the pain. When the attack subsided, I checked the clothing I wore during the trip in time and found that patches of it have faded.

  The localized nature of the time reversal would seem to rule this out as a natural reaction to contact with the Chrono-Ether. Such a side effect would be uniform over all areas. This is definitely a previously unknown force.

  With a few adjustments, I suspect that my current instrument array will be able to detect what is at work here.

  23:11 – Friday

  The attacks occur on a steady schedule. Whether this is due to the linear nature of time itself, or some other factor, I am not certain. What I do know is that the changes have been made to my equipment which will allow me to peer into fourth-dimensional space while I am still here.

  Completion of the task has come none too soon; as I can barely move my right hand to work any more. Other parts of my body have aged as well, but my eyes retain the clarity of youth. I wonder if my hand will crumble to dust while the rest of me yet lives?

  There is no more time to waste, I am throwing the switch.

  23:59 - Friday

  I find it difficult to believe what I’ve seen – a monster.

  Perhaps that is an unfair conclusion. Many creatures exist in the bottoms of the oceans or dark recesses of uncivilized lands that are called monsters. In reality, they are a normal part of nature. It is only their hideous appearance that lends fancy to the claims of monstrous origins.

  And by that definition I have stood face-to-face with a monster that could only have been spawned in the twisted imagination of an insane mind. My machines revealed a creature about six inches in diameter. A nebulous cloud formed its body, which was no more than a pretext for the connecting of three fang-filled maws. Each of the three faced a different direction, the joints of each mouth nearly touching the two others. And from the body wispy tendrils of mist formed and dispersed at seemingly random intervals.

  As I watched, one of the tendrils lashed out and connected with my wrist, causing another bout of pain like those that had been plaguing me since yesterday. The aura of energy that surrounded my body lost chunks of light with every touch of a tendril; which was then fed into one of the three mouths. With my normal vision I watched the skin on my hand shrivel with every attack.

  When I whipped my hand away, the life-stealing tendrils elongated until they were as thin as spaghetti strands and then it changed targets and went after my face.

  I fled the room and the attacks stopped. Briefly.

  No doubt, this is some sort of parasite that feeds off the Chrono-Ether. I hope that another trip through time will not only restore the temporal essence that I have lost, but will also rid me of the creature. As it is now, I can barely operate the time module. If I wait any longer I will surely die.

  02:01 - Saturday

  Success! At least, partially. My body is once again youthful. However, the creature remains. It waited at the spot my body would reappear in the room and began its attacks as soon as I popped back into my original point in time.

  The pain is a distraction, but at least I know that I can continue this process of rejuvenation while I search for a solution.

  How do you kill a Time Leech?

  20:15 – Sunday

  A second leech appeared shortly after midnight. As should be expected, I am losing my temporal essence at twice the rate. I tried to escape them in my car, driving at reckless speeds to the neighboring city of Glendale. Neither distance nor physical barriers are effective in stopping them from sucking me dry. I am safe only when I am moving.

  My mind is sluggish from lack of sleep and yet I dare not rest. I estimate that my loss of temporal essence is roughly equal to when I made the second trip. With two of the monsters eating away at me I will be dead by this time tomorrow.

  Another trip through time will give me a brief respite, but then what? I suspect that I will have another of the creatures attached to me; one of them for each of the trips I have made. However, they could just as easily be doubling their number. Three. Four. Does it matter?

  13:01 – Monday

  It is done.

  I set a trap for the creatures. Enticing them with a fresher source of Chrono-Ether, I activated the module with them inside. A programming change allowed me to use the redundancy systems in the module to make a second jump before the primary power source failed. In theory, t
hey would return to the point of the second activation, thereby leaving the creatures stranded somewhere else in time.

  All I know for sure is that my time machine did not return. The leeches are gone, but at what cost? Whenever it exists, the module waits to be taken by any idiot who stumbles across it. My notes remain and with enough time I could build another machine.

  Therein lies the problem. I have no time. The leeches have nearly drained me. I consider myself lucky to have finished this last journal entry. With my frail, trembling body, I will attempt to reach my bed and then hope there will be a tomorrow.

  RANDY LINDSAY

  Randy’s wife calls him “The StoryMan.” He is so named because everything he encounters is rife with story possibilities. Starting in 2013, Randy had short stories published in the science-fiction, fantasy, and horror genres. His writing ranges from funny to downright spooky. His first two published novels, The Gathering: End’s Beginning and Call to Arms: Nations Fall, provide a realistic view of the events preceding the Second Coming of Christ.

  On the following pages, you will find three of Randy’s short stories. In the first, Perchance to Slumber, Randy invites you to play a little game he calls, “Name that monster.” Then rocket towards the center of the galaxy in Randy’s second tale, Judgment. Find out which species has grown up enough in galactic terms to sit at the grownup table. Randy wraps up his science-fiction trilogy with Time Enough to Die, written in homage to the early masters of speculative fiction.

  Randy can be contacted at www.RandyLindsay.net

  Crush

  by Janette Rallison