Out of nowhere

(Author of "The Radiant Avenger", "The Psychomorph", etc.)

Valnar, time traveler from nowhere in particular, had raised havoc in plenty the last time he stopped in this continuum; he'd been responsible for the rise of Dodson, the mental dictator who was now menacing the entire planet. So Barlow and Laurine decided that the tourist had better undo it this trip!

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Future combined with Science Fiction October 1941. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

Dictators are the most naive persons. About all they know are the facts of life. Therefore Great America's Dodson thoroughly approved of a man such as Joel Barlow and a girl such as Laurine Coret walking in the park at twilight. Quite evidently Director Dodson reasoned: Dusk is mysterious.... Man is curious.... Q. E. D.--usually.

A civic guard saw them and saluted with a good-natured grin. Wisely, they returned the salute. Then Laurine passed her arm under Barlow's and sort of cuddled up to him. He straightened and looked at her with surprise.

"Smile, darn you," she grated. "Make it look real--as though you enjoyed it, even if you don't."

His lips stretched into a grimace that in the dusk, passed muster for a smile. And the civic guard smiled fondly after them as they walked along the park path.

"What does Central want me for?" Barlow asked when the guard was beyond earshot.

"The organization is going to hibernate. You're to pass the word along. 'Stay away from headquarters.'"

"Why?"

"Dodson must have managed to get agents into our organization. The New Orleans headquarters was raided during a meeting."

"Did they get them all?" he asked quickly.

She nodded. He said nothing, but his hands closed slowly. They both knew the seriousness of the loss, but still her eyes clung to his face. Director Dodson knew the facts of life.

Suddenly her gaze went over his shoulder and her eyes widened with fright. She turned with a stifled scream and fled. Barlow stared after her with puzzled eyes.

"--me she didn't like," said a rueful voice behind him. "I beg your pardon. I guess it's--"

Barlow turned quickly, but saw nothing. Then, as though someone had switched on a light, there was a violet haze in front of him. And in the middle of the haze was the figure of a man. Then the man and the queer haze disappeared as though the light had been turned off.

A moment later it had returned. "--leave you so abruptly," the figure said, and vanished. A second later it reappeared and said, "I'm sorry I had to--"

Barlow moved away, intending to follow Laurine.

"Don't go," said the queer newcomer. "I think I've settled down, and I want to talk to you."

The haze flickered uncertainly. Barlow's last doubt was removed. He must know how Laurine was faring. But before he could get started, the violet haze and the talking image had returned.

"Hello," it greeted cheerfully. "I'm glad you waited. I've made it at last. Inconvenient--that time-lash."

"Yes," Barlow agreed uncertainly. He stared at the newcomer. The fellow appeared to be an ordinary human being. The violet haze had vanished and in the poor light Barlow couldn't see him very clearly, but it seemed that he was rather tall, strongly built, not too good-looking, and dressed in loose, comfortably fitting clothes. At the moment the newcomer was staring in the direction Laurine had fled.

"Too bad I frightened her," he said with a shake of his head. "She's a cute little trick."

Barlow frowned at the familiarity. "Who are you?"

"Valnar one-oh-oh-three-oh-seven-one-oh-oh--"

"I didn't ask for your telephone number," snapped Barlow. "What's your name?"

"That's it," said the newcomer. "You see, I'm from--well, from the future. I was experimenting with time, and discovered a few of the natural laws that I could control. I constructed this traveler"--He tapped a plaque strapped to his chest. "--and since then I've just been wandering around ... trying to get back home."

"Lost?" asked Barlow more friendly.

Valnar hesitated. "Well, not exactly. I'm always able to find out where I am, but I can't find my own time. Right now, for instance, figuring from the Birth of Christ as many of the people I've met do, I should be in the year 1974. Is that right?"

"Nineteen seventy-three," Barlow corrected.

The man named Valnar seemed shocked. "Another error," he murmured. "If I don't do better than that, I'm going to find myself out in space, freezing to death."

"I thought you said you were time-traveling," Barlow questioned.

"Certainly," said Valnar. "But traveling in time requires considerable knowledge of astronomy. Both the Earth and the Sun move in space. If I were to travel twenty-four hours into the future, without moving in space, I'd find myself out in the void. But luckily the earth seems to exert an attraction which compensates for numerous errors, though it upsets my calculations concerning the time."

"What time are you from?"

"1974."

"That's next year! That means there are two of you in the world now--that is impossible!"

"No," Valnar disagreed impatiently. "I told you this wasn't my time--maybe I should say, space-time continuum. Time is like a tree with a lot of branches--too damn many of them. In my own time, we calculate that dimension from the Year of the Subsidence. I slid down my branch of that space-time continuum, and now I can't find it again. My people are the descendants of an Atlantean colony established in what you call Florida, but evidently that colony had few chances for survival--perhaps only one. That would make it a single small branch and difficult to find--which it is," he concluded feelingly.

"Then how do you explain your being able to speak English?" Barlow asked, grinning. He was thinking that the stranger was an unconvincing liar.

"This stop is merely incidental. I miscalculated time before last and landed in 1941--met a nice fellow who didn't ask too many questions." He looked severely at Barlow. "_He_ believed me right away, taught me English, and told me I was just like someone out of a science-fiction story. Poor fellow was quite worried about some sort of a European menace, though. So I gave him the Mental Ray to protect his--"

"Why, you dirty--" Barlow started forward with swinging fists. He landed one fairly solid blow, then his hands were held powerless in the other's.