The Time Ships by Stephen Baxter

experimental verification. But there are – were – others thinking along the same lines – I know of Fitzgerald in Dublin, Lorentz in Leiden, and Henri Poincaré in France – and it cannot be long before some more complete theory is expounded, dealing with this relativeness of frames of reference …
    ‘Well, then, this is the essence of my Time Machine,’ I concluded. ‘The machine twists Space and Time around itself, thus mutating Time into a Spatial Dimension – and then one may proceed, into past or future, as easy as riding a bicycle!’
    I sat back in my chair; given the uncomfortable circumstances of this lecture, I told myself, I had acquitted myself remarkably well.
    But my Morlock was not an appreciative audience. He stood there, regarding me through his blue goggles. Then, at length, he said: ‘Yes. But how , exactly?’

11

OUT OF THE CAGE
    T his response irritated me intensely! I got out of my chair and began to pace about my Cage. I came near to Nebogipfel, but I managed to resist the impulse to lapse into threatening simian gestures. I flatly refused to answer any more questions until he showed me something of his Sphere-world.
    ‘Look here,’ I said, ‘don’t you think you’re being a little unfair? After all, I’ve travelled across six hundred thousand years to see something of your world. And all I’ve had so far is a darkened hill-side in Richmond, and –’ I waved a hand at the encircling darkness ‘– this, and your endless questions!
    ‘Look at it this way, Nebogipfel. I know you will want me to give you a full account of my journey through time, and what I saw of History as it unfolded to your present. How can I tell such a tale if I have no understanding of its conclusion? – let alone of that other History which I witnessed.’
    I left my speech there, hoping I had done enough to convince him.
    He lifted his hand to his face; his thin, pallid fingers adjusted the goggles resting there, like any gentleman adjusting a pince-nez. ‘I will consult about this,’ he said at last. ‘We will speak again.’
    And he departed. I watched him walk away, his bare soles pad-padding across the soft, starry Floor.
    After I had slept once more, Nebogipfel returned.He raised his hand and beckoned; it was a stiff, unnatural gesture, as if he had learned it only recently.
    ‘Come with me,’ he said.
    With a surge of exhilaration – tinged with not a little fear – I snatched my jacket up from the Floor.
    I walked beside Nebogipfel, into the darkness which had encircled me for so many days. My shaft of sunlight receded behind me. I glanced back at the little spot which had been my inhospitable home, with its disordered trays, its heap of blankets, and my chair – perhaps the only chair in the world! I will not say I watched it go with any nostalgia, for I had been miserable and fearful during the whole of my stay in that Cage of Light, but I did wonder whether I would ever see it again.
    Beneath our feet, the eternal stars hung like a million Chinese lanterns, borne on the breast of an invisible river.
    As we walked, Nebogipfel held out blue goggles, very like the set he wore himself. I took these, but I protested: ‘What do I need of these? I am not dazzled, as you are –’
    ‘They are not for light. They are for darkness. Put them on.’
    I lifted the goggles to my face. The set was built on two hoops of some pliable substance, which sandwiched the blue glass of the goggles itself; when I lifted the goggles to my face, the hoops slipped easily around my head and gripped there lightly.
    I turned my head. I had no impression of blueness , despite the tint of my goggles. That shaft of sunlight seemed as bright as ever, and the image of Nebogipfel was as clear as it had been before. ‘They don’t seem to work,’ I said.
    For answer, Nebogipfel tipped his head downwards.
    I followed his gaze – and my step faltered. For, beneath my feet and through the soft Floor, the stars blazed.