TIMES ARROWA Story by alanwgraham An unusual look at history! <<<<
Over the great cities of the earth, over the harbours, highways, railroads, bridges and airfields, over the places of learning and of worship, over schools and hospitals, over towns and villages, over fields and forests and over factories and mines, great mushroom clouds of destruction writhe their dance of death. v The sun has come to the earth and found that it burns. It lasts but a moment, that chain reaction, that dervish dance of neutrons wreaking mayhem, the pure energy of a billion atoms shedding mass. Then it is over. For a moment, time itself quivers on the cusp of inevitability and then shudders into reverse. v
Atoms split just an instant before, now rejoin their critical mass in the warheads within their casings. The bombs fall back up into the missiles and bomb bays of the B52’s and the TU95’s which then return to their airfields. The missiles retrace their trajectories through the fringes of space to re-enter smoothly into their silos where the warheads are reinterred into their lead sarcophagi. The presidents cancel the launch orders. The alerts and alarms are silenced and war has become peace. v In each corner of the earth the great unravelling goes on apace. Workers swarm to dismantle the great edifices of civilization. Skyscrapers are dismantled, level by level, girder by girder, concrete sections slab by slab until they are laid flat. Highways, bridges and tunnels are torn up, pulverized into dust and returned to the earth. Aircraft, boats and automobiles are returned to their places of manufacture where they enter the disassembly lines to be unbolted and unwelded, one by one, back to the first Model T. Then the assembly plants themselves are disassembled.
Each last drop of oil, coal and gas is returned to its rightful place in the dark bowels of the earth. The tunnels are backfilled, the oil wells and drilling rigs are removed and dismantled. v In obscure camps in central Europe a new race is born from the sickly choking smell of Zyclon B. Each day for year upon year thousands more emerge from the doors of their gaschambers to become professors, doctors and world famous artists, scientists and musicians, mothers and fathers, grandparents and children. v Along the blood soaked trenches of battlefields the dead spring up from where they lay, the bullets emerge from their wounds to fly back and be caught by their enemies rifles. The undead march back to their barracks, become untrained in the ways of war, cast off their uniforms and arms and return to their wives and children. The naked and torn earth returns to pastures and fields and the shattered towns and villages are reborn. The rifles, machine guns, tanks and artillery pieces return to their factories, are disassembled and melted back to base metal. v A physicist called Albert Einstein now working in the USA sits at his desk and pauses, pen in hand, pondering before putting pen to paper. A very curious little fellow that Albert has had dealings with before appears and sits on the easy chair in the corner.
‘Ah, my old friend Mr ‘Genie.’ I thought you might make an entrance!’ 'No pun intended Albert but you are a ‘genius'. Well - are you going to let me out of the bottle? Once I’m out, there’s no going back!’ Of course Albert had been agonising over this for decades and with great misgivings put pen to paper. v
Albert Einstein F.D. Roosevelt Some recent work by E. Fermi and L. Szilard, leads me to expect that the element uranium may be turned into a new and important source of energy in the immediate future. Certain aspects of the situation which has arisen seem to call for watchfulness and if necessary, quick action on the part of the Administration. I believe therefore that it is my duty to bring to your attention the following facts and recommendations. In the course of the last four months it has been made probable through the work of Joliot in France as well as Fermi and Szilard in America--that it may be possible to set up a nuclear chain reaction in a large mass of uranium, by which vast amounts of power and large quantities of new radium-like elements would be generated ….. v In burial places across the
earth the dead are dug from their graves and emerge from their coffins to
return to life. The undeceased pass some time in retirement, enter work, care
for a family, return to school, unlearn that which has been learned, take their
first steps, first words, toddle, crawl, suckle, and finally, laboriously re-enter the
womb. That umbilical link that once joined mother to child into the future now unwinds into the past. v The age of steam which powers factories and mills and drives the great locomotives and steamships of the age rolls back to the last feeble puffs of steam from the first tiny funnels. The iron rails that had spread like tentacles to every settlement are pulled up and returned to the steel works to be returned to iron ore. v Now the progress of times arrow slows as work depends on the strength of a man and the power of a horse or oxen. The great castles and cathedrals of the land are taken down stone by stone. The great monuments of the future, Machu Picchu, the Great Wall of China, the Pyramids and Stonehenges are dismantled and the stones dragged back to their quarries. The fields and clearings used for cultivation return to the forest. v Mankind now lives in small clans in the forests and plains. They use simple language to communicate and plan their hunts. They use expertly fashioned tools which exhibit their mastery of their surroundings. They worship their, still to be ancestors, and record their hunts and themselves, as masterworks of art on cave walls. v Still unwinding in time, we return to a small clearing where a group of proto humans are gathered. Language has shrivelled back to the last word. The creatures might be mistaken for modern man, albeit it shorter and hairier but they lack the vital attribute of speech which would uncork the genie. v One of the creatures, known to the others by a grunt that we might translate as ‘scarface’ lifts his wooden club. He looks at it long and its name forms on his tongue. The words could be used to communicate with the others, as for example, ‘give me club’ or ‘hit him with club’ His words confer the possibility of choice on his actions - the name lodged in his head could be used for abstract thinking and planning.
For some unfathomable reason, the name tantalisingly teasing his tongue as in a game of hide and seek, departs, and then remains unsaid for ever. Man had spoken his last word. Without speech, his power to plan ahead and to recall the past except as ill defined feelings has disappeared. v
In any meaningful sense for these proto humans time had ceased to exist. Life in the forest passes unchanged from one generation to the next. Proto-Man lives in harmony with his surrounding, taking only what he needs. The past and the future have become as one. v
Until one morning Einstein’s ‘Genie’ appears to the small clan. At first suspicious of the bizarre looking stranger they became bewitched when he projects a glittering dazzle of ideas into their heads. He makes them an offer - ‘I will give you the gift of words, a sound for every thing. With these you will get the power to imagine and plan, but you will also get the power to choose between right and wrong.’
‘Your future, your choice!’
© 2017 alanwgrahamFeatured Review
Reviews
|
Stats
588 Views
8 Reviews  Last Updated on October 11, 2017 Author
alanwgrahamScotland, United KingdomAboutMarried with three kids, I retired early from teaching physics but have always enjoyed mountains. In my forties I experienced a manic episode which kick-started a creative urge. I've written a novel .. more..Writing
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|
![[send message]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Flag Writing
