Time and Time Again | Page 8

are rushing past us. Really, they're standing still, and our
consciousness is whizzing past them."
His father thought that over for some time. Then he sat up. "Hey!" he cried, suddenly. "If
some part of our ego is time-free and passes from moment to moment, it must be
extraphysical, because the physical body exists at every moment through which the
consciousness passes. And if it's extraphysical, there's no reason whatever for assuming
that it passes out of existence when it reaches the moment of the death of the body. Why,
there's logical evidence for survival, independent of any alleged spirit communication!
You can toss out Patience Worth, and Mrs. Osborne Leonard's Feda, and Sir Oliver
Lodge's son, and Wilfred Brandon, and all the other spirit-communicators, and you still
have evidence."
"I hadn't thought of that," Allan confessed. "I think you're right. Well, let's put that at the
bottom of the agenda and get on with this time business. You 'lose consciousness' as in
sleep; where does your consciousness go? I think it simply detaches from the moment at
which you go to sleep, and moves backward or forward along the line of
moment-sequence, to some prior or subsequent moment, attaching there."
"Well, why don't we know anything about that?" Blake Hartley asked. "It never seems to
happen. We go to sleep tonight, and it's always tomorrow morning when we wake; never
day-before-yesterday, or last month, or next year."
"It never ... or almost never ... seems to happen; you're right there. Know why? Because if
the consciousness goes forward, it attaches at a moment when the physical brain contains
memories of the previous, consciously unexperienced, moment. You wake, remembering
the evening before, because that's the memory contained in your mind at that moment,
and back of it are memories of all the events in the interim. See?"
"Yes. But how about backward movement, like this experience of yours?"
"This experience of mine may not be unique, but I never heard of another case like it.
What usually happens is that the memories carried back by the consciousness are buried
in the subconscious mind. You know how thick the wall between the subconscious and
the conscious mind is. These dreams of Dunne's, and the cases in Tyrrell's book, are

leakage. That's why precognitions are usually incomplete and distorted, and generally
trivial. The wonder isn't that good cases are so few; it's surprising that there are any at
all." Allan looked at the papers in front of him. "I haven't begun to theorize about how I
managed to remember everything. It may have been the radiations from the bomb, or the
effect of the narcotic, or both together, or something at this end, or a combination of all
three. But the fact remains that my subconscious barrier didn't function, and everything
got through. So, you see, I am obsessed--by my own future identity."
"And I'd been afraid that you'd been, well, taken-over by some ... some outsider." Blake
Hartley grinned weakly. "I don't mind admitting, Allan, that what's happened has been a
shock. But that other ... I just couldn't have taken that."
* * * * *
"No. Not and stayed sane. But really, I am your son; the same entity I was yesterday. I've
just had what you might call an educational short cut."
"I'll say you have!" His father laughed in real amusement. He discovered that his cigar
had gone out, and re-lit it. "Here; if you can remember the next thirty years, suppose you
tell me when the War's going to end. This one, I mean."
"The Japanese surrender will be announced at exactly 1901--7:01 P. M. present style--on
August 14. A week from Tuesday. Better make sure we have plenty of grub in the house
by then. Everything will be closed up tight till Thursday morning; even the restaurants. I
remember, we had nothing to eat in the house but some scraps."
"Well! It is handy, having a prophet in the family! I'll see to it Mrs. Stauber gets plenty of
groceries in.... Tuesday a week? That's pretty sudden, isn't it?"
"The Japs are going to think so," Allan replied. He went on to describe what was going to
happen.
His father swore softly. "You know, I've heard talk about atomic energy, but I thought it
was just Buck Rogers stuff. Was that the sort of bomb that got you?"
"That was a firecracker to the bomb that got me. That thing exploded a good ten miles
away."
Blake Hartley whistled softly. "And that's going to happen in thirty years! You know, son,
if I were you, I wouldn't like to have to know about a thing like that." He looked at Allan
for a moment. "Please, if you know, don't ever tell me when I'm going to