Time Waits for Winthrop Read Online Free PDF Page A

the two eras, his government standing convicted of a breach of faith—that sort of thing. It’s just a matter of finding the right words and making them good and strong.”
    Mrs. Brucks nodded agreement “Absolutely. You can do it, Mr. Mead.”
    The stout man seemed jolted “
I?
”
    “Of course!” Mary Ann Carthington said enthusiastically. “Just like you said, Mr. Mead, it has to be said good and strong. That’s the way
you
can say it.”
    “I’d—well, I’d rather not. I don’t think I’m the best one for the job. Storku and I don’t get along too well. Somebody else, I think, would be—”
    D ave Pollock laughed. “Now don’t be modest, Ollie. You get along with Storku as well as any of us. You’re elected. Besides, isn’t this public relations work? You’re a big man in public relations.”
    Mr. Mead tried to pour all the hatred in the Universe at him in one long look. Then he shot out his cuffs and straightened his shoulders. “Very well. If none of you feel up to the job, I’ll take it on myself. Be back soon.”
    “Jumper, Ollie?” Pollock asked. “It’s faster.”
    “No, thank you,” Mr. Mead said curtly. “I’ll walk. I need the exercise.”
    He hurried through the corridor and toward the staircase. Though he went down them at a springy executive trot, the stairs seemed to feel he wasn’t going fast enough. An escalator motion began, growing more and more rapid, until he stumbled and almost fell.
    “Stop, dammit!” he yelled. “I can do this myself!”
    The stairs immediately stopped flowing downward. He wiped his face with a large white handkerchief and started down again. After a few moments, the stairs turned into an escalator once more.
    Again and again, he had to order them to stop; again and again, they obeyed him, and then sneakily tried to help him along. He seethingly gave up forbidding the stairs to assist him, and when he reached ground level, he was moving so fast that he rocketed out of the empty lobby of the building and onto the sidewalk. He might have broken a leg or dislocated his back.
    Fortunately, the sidewalk began moving under him. As he tottered from right to left, the sidewalk did so, too, gently but expertly keeping him balanced. He finally got his footing and took a couple of deep breaths.
    Under him, the sidewalk trembled slightly, waiting for him to choose a direction so that it could help.
    Mr. Mead looked around desperately. There was no one in sight along the broad avenue in either direction.
    “What a world!” he moaned. “What a loony-bin of a world! You’d think there’d be a cop—somebody!”
    Suddenly there was somebody. There was the
pop-pop
of a jumper mechanism in operation slightly overhead and a man appeared some twelve feet in the air. Behind him, there was an orange hedgelike affair, covered with eyes.
    A portion of the sidewalk formed a mound under the two creatures and lowered them gently to surface level.
    “Listen!” Mr. Mead yelled. “Am I glad I ran into you! I’m trying to get to the State Department and I’m having trouble. I’d appreciate a little assistance—”
    “Sorry,” the other man said. “Klap-Lillth and I will have to be back on Ganymede in a half-hour. We’re late for an appointment as is. Why don’t you call a government machine?”
    “Who is he?” the orange hedge inquired as they began to move swiftly to the entrance of a building, the sidewalk under them flowing like a happy river. “He doesn’t narga to me like one of you.”
    “Time traveler,” his companion explained. “From the past. One of the exchange tourists who came in two weeks ago.”
    “Aha!” said the hedge. “From the
past.
No wonder I couldn’t narga him. It’s just as well. You know, on Ganymede we don’t believe in time travel. It’s against our religion.”
    The Earthman chuckled and dug the hedge in the twigs with his elbow. “You and your religion! When was the last time you attended