The Year is Almost Over

The Time Traveller

"People need something to hope for, Albert, they want to see that mankind can do great things."

October 3rd, 1933. As my train trundled its way toward the Bulgarian border, I took out a letter from an old school friend, Trevor Pinsky, and read it again, with growing skepticism;

Dear Albert,

Of course it would be my pleasure to have you stay with me. But I should let you know that you would have to spend your time far from Sofia and other interesting places, as my work is done at the research centre, and at the moment I must be available there around the clock.

I have no doubt you have read 'The Time Machine' by H. G. Wells. I'm sure you'll agree that its literary value lies more in the story than any scientific explanation of how time travel is actually achieved. But a time machine is precisely what we are developing here at the research centre, and if you are interested, it would be my pleasure to show you exactly what we have created and how it works.

I have enclosed my card so you know where to go, please cable me when you are about to arrive. I look forward to seeing you again!

Regards,

Trevor

When I had asked Trevor if he could put me up for a few nights, I hadn't anticipated a science excursion. Trevor wasn't one of my close friends, but he was a nice enough sort of chap, a rather typical boffin, self-absorbed and bookish. He spoke with a ridiculous, low drawl which often came across as an affectation - this frequently made him jeered at by some of the bigger students, although this never seemed to mar his cheerful outlook. He won every science prize on offer at school, and continued his study at Cambridge University, then moved to Bulgaria in 1926. Although he didn't possess the flair and brilliance of my friend Professor Woff, he was always a hard worker, and there was no doubt that he was highly regarded in academic circles, as his research was frequently published and cited.

Yet the claim of a time machine seemed rather improbable even for him. None of the works of literature regarding time travel gave any idea of how a time machine might work. There were vague references to clockwork boxes or bumps on the head, then the time travel was completed and the adventure began. We would meet strange monsters or historic figures, and sooner or later we would return to our own time. As for the papers and books of scientific discourse, they seemed to show no interest in the matter whatsoever.

On the card he had enclosed, the title of my destination was;

International Centre for DX Interplanetary Ionosphere Reflection Radio Telescopic Research

This only served to further confuse me. I had a vague memory that Trevor's area of expertise was electrical engineering and wireless radio transmission, although I couldn't see how this related to time travel. But I presumed it would all be explained sooner or later, and hopefully in such terms as a retired librarian could understand.

The research centre was situated in a province that seemed to be the most isolated part of the country, and I took two separate trains and an old bus to get there. As I travelled, not only the signs of mankind, but all features of landscape withered away, until the bus was crawling across a grey, barren plain.

Eventually we approached a group of modern buildings clustered tightly together. As my bus neared the research centre, I saw on the roof of the largest building a huge, bowl-shaped construction, which I estimated to be about three hundred yards across.

I met Trevor at the reception area for the centre. Everything about the place reminded me of a university, as if Trevor had managed to drag a part of Cambridge to Bulgaria. Trevor himself had lost weight from when I saw him last, and his ginger curls had surrendered to grey. But his face was beaming with enthusiasm and energy, and I wondered if he had already begun his travels through time. He shook my hand vigorously.