Steel by Richard Matheson

Author:Richard Matheson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

THE TRAVELLER

Silent snows descended like a white curtain as Professor Paul Jairus hurried under the dim archway and onto the bare campus of Fort College.

His rubber-protected shoes squished aside the thin slush as he walked. He raised the collar of his heavy overcoat almost to the brim of his pulled down fedora. Then he drove his hands back into his coat pockets and clenched them into fists of chilled flesh.

He strode as rapidly as he could without getting the icy slush on his trousers and ankles. Clouds of steam puffed from his lips as he pressed on. He looked up a moment at the high granite face of the Physical Sciences Center far across the wide campus. Then he lowered his almost colorless face to avoid the cutting wind and hurried on around the curving path, his feet carrying him past the line of skeletal trees whose branches stood brittle and black in the freezing air.

The wind seemed to push him back from his destination. It almost seemed to Jairus as if it were battling him. But that was pure imagination, of course. Keen desire to be over the preliminary steps only made them seem harder. He was anxious. In spite of endless self-examination and preparation, the thought of what he was soon to witness excited him. Far beyond the power of wind to chill or snow to whiten.

Or mind to caution.

Now he was past the edge of the huge building. It shielded Jairus from the wind and he raised his dark eyes. In his pockets, his hands flexed impatiently and he felt a strong inclination to break into a run. He must watch himself. If he appeared too excitable they might change their minds about letting him go. They had responsibilities, after all. He took a deep breath and let the cold air into his lungs. Once the initial fascination had gone he’d be his old rational self. It was the uniqueness of the situation that was upsetting his usual balance. But it was ridiculous to be this anxious.

He pushed through the revolving door into the building and almost sighed with pleasure as the warm air rushed over him. He took off his hat and shook the drops onto the marble floor. Then he unbuttoned his coat as he turned right and started down the long hallway. His rubbers squeaked as he walked.

To think, the idea probed at his brain, in less than a half hour it will happen. He shook his head at the inexplicable import of it … Never mind, he told himself, control yourself, that’s all. You’ll need self control to resist the pummeling of false sentiment.

Near the end of the hall he stopped in front of a door, half blond wood, half frosted glass. His eyes moved briefly over the printed words before he pushed in.

DR. PHILLIPS. DR. RANDALL. A blank space, recently scratched out. And, underneath, in neat red letters, the word:

CHRONO-TRANSPOSITION.

* * *

“You understand clearly then,” said Dr. Phillips in an urgent voice, “you are to make no attempt to affect your surroundings in any way.

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