Her fingers found the ignition switch again. The odd
contraption coughed and died, but Elena was determined.
"You're going to work, you ugly mess of bolts," she said.
With shaking fingers, she tried the ignition once more.
Her hands were shaking, not from fear, but because she
wanted her time machine to work. Outside a flash of
lightning sliced through the black night, followed by the
booming of thunder. She grinned. The setting was perfect. As
if in agreement, the time machine didn't spurt or cough or
croak. It purred. Her heart raced, skipping a few beats.
Then suddenly the lights inside the time machine went
out and she was in total blackness. Her head began to throb
as though her blood pressure was rising. Elena's stomach
reeled and she felt faint. Beneath her feet a motor hummed
then the motion stopped and she lost consciousness.
A fraction of a moment later, when she again opened her
eyes, they were met with a thick black void. Little by
little light broke through and she could see again. She was
still in the time machine, but instead of Princeton
University's Bowen hall where it sat for almost a year, it
rested in a giant field of clover and it was daylight. Gone
was the night and the storm. She was utterly alone.
Had she traveled through time?
She squinted against the sunlight then looked at the
clock on the time machine's panel board. Eleven a.m. Only
moments ago, it had been midnight. Or at least it seemed
like moments ago. She looked around. In the distance were
tall trees and the bright blue sky was filled with cumulus
clouds. Otherwise, there was nothing. No animals, no
chirping of birds, humming of bees, or the chatter of
humans. It was surreal. She looked at the time machine's
gauges. One gauge was made to disclose what time period she
was in. It hadn't moved. Suddenly she wanted out of there,
and fast. She had to get back to the University to document
this. It was obvious some additional calculations had to be
made before her flight could be accomplished again. The
gauges and compasses should've read where she was and what
period it was. The time machine was designed to remain
stationary, yet it had moved. Something was amiss.
Elena started the ignition again, saying a little prayer
the machine would in fact take her back to the University.
What if it didn't work? Would she be stuck in this soundless
dimension forever?
She felt the now familiar droning of the machine beneath
her feet. Again, she lost consciousness. Expecting to awaken
in Bowen hall, she was startled when she awoke to complete
darkness again, and the same unnerving silence. She reached
out with both arms to feel around her, but her hands touched
the nothingness of space. Panic surged through her along
with cold fear. If she were inside the time machine, she
should feel the coolness of the metal walls. The controls
should be at arm's length.
Yet her hands touched nothing. Suddenly the disturbing
silence was shattered and she heard sounds, loud sounds,
unintelligible at first then gradually becoming clear.
Through the fuzziness of her brain, she deduced it was men's
voices, thick guttural sounds and they were shouting.
She stifled a cry as blinding light filled her senses.
Her pupils narrowed, trying to adjust to the brilliant
light. Then, like gazing through a kaleidoscope, it all came
into focus, the voices and the bodies. All around were
soldiers in uniform, barmaids serving beer and whiskey and
she sat on a wooden bench minus the time machine against the
planked walls of a tavern. Her heart was pounding. Where was
she?
From the looks of the men's attire and the blue and
khaki color of their uniforms, she deduced she was hundreds
of years in the past, perhaps sometime during the eighteenth
century. "Oh my God," she whispered. "My time machine does
work." Einstein's theory of relativity left open the
possibility of time travel. He saw incongruities with the
way scientists saw space–time. His theory was that
moving through time was possible, and she, doctoral student
Elena Martin, had proved it.