In the Year 2889
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Pages: 1 2 3 "Leave your plans with me, and come back in a week. I will have them examined in the meantime." Finally, the fourth announces the imminent solution of a weighty scientific problem. Everyone remembers the bold experiment made 100 years ago by Dr. Nathaniel Faithburn. The doctor, being a firm believer in human hibernation--in other words, the possibility of our suspending our vital functions and of calling them into action again after a time--resolved to subject the theory to a practical test. To this end, having first made his last will and pointed out the proper method of awakening him; having also directed that his sleep was to continue a hundred years to a day from the date of his apparent death, he unhesitatingly put the theory to the proof in his own person. Reduced to the condition of a mummy, Dr. Faithburn was coffined and laid in a tomb. Time went on. September 25th, 2889 being the day set for his resurrection, it is proposed that Mr. Smith permit the second part of the experiment to be performed at his residence this evening. "Agreed. Be here at 10 o'clock," answers Mr. Smith; and with that the day's audience is closed. Left to himself, feeling tired, he lies down on an extension chair. Then, touching a knob, he establishes communication with the Central Concert Hall, whence our greatest maestros send out to subscribers their delightful successions of accords determined by recondite algebraic formulas. Night approaches. Entranced by the harmony, forgetful of the hour, Smith does not notice that it is growing dark. Indeed, it is quite dark when the sound of a door opening arouses him. "Who is there?" he asks, touching a commutator. Suddenly, in consequence of the vibrations produced, the air becomes luminous. The room fills with light, and Smith recognizes his visitor. "Ah! You, Doctor?" "Yes," is the reply. "How are you?" "I am feeling well." "Good! Let me see your tongue. All right! Your pulse. Regular! And your appetite?" "Only passably good." "Yes, the stomach. There's the rub. You are overworked. If your stomach is out of repair, it must be mended. That requires study. We must think about it." "In the meantime," says Mr. Smith, "you will dine with me." As in the morning, the table rises out of the floor. Again, as in the morning, the food-pipes supply soup, roast, ragouts, and legumes. Toward the close of the meal, phonotelephotic communication is made with Paris. Smith sees his wife, seated alone at the dinner table, looking anything but pleased at her loneliness. "Pardon me, my dear, for having left you alone," he says through the telephone. "Dr. Wilkins is here." "Ah, the good doctor!" remarks Mrs. Smith, her countenance lighting up. "Yes. But, pray, when are you coming home?" "This evening." "Very well. Do you come by tube or by air-train?" "Oh, by tube." "Yes; and at what hour will you arrive?" "About eleven, I suppose." "Eleven by Centropolis time, you mean?" "Yes." "Goodbye, then, for a little while," says Mr. Smith as he severs communication with Paris. Dinner over, Dr. Wilkins wishes to depart. "I shall expect you at ten," says Mr. Smith. "Today, it seems, is the day for the return to life of the famous Dr. Faithburn. You did not think of it, I suppose. The awakening is to take place here in my house. You must come and see. I shall depend on your being here." "I will return," answers Dr. Wilkins. Left alone, Mr. Smith busies himself with examining his accounts--a task of vast magnitude, the transactions involving a daily expenditure of over $800,000. Fortunately, indeed, the stupendous progress of mechanic art in modern times makes it comparatively easy. Thanks to the Piano Electro-Reckoner, the most complex calculations can be made in a few seconds. In two hours Mr. Smith completes his task--and just in time. Scarcely has he turned the last page when Dr. Wilkins arrives. After him comes Dr. Faithburn's body, escorted by a numerous company of men of science. They commence work at once. The casket is laid in the middle of the room, the telephote readied. The outer world, already notified, is anxiously expectant, for the whole world will witness the performance. A reporter meanwhile, like the chorus in an ancient drama, explains it all viva voce through the telephone. "They are opening the casket," he explains. "Now they are taking Faithburn out--a veritable mummy, yellow, hard and dry. Strike the body and it resounds like a block of wood. They are now applying heat; now electricity. No result. These experiments are suspended for a moment while Dr. Wilkins makes an examination of the body. Dr. Wilkins, rising, declares the man to be dead. 'Dead!' exclaims everyone present. 'Yes,' answers Dr. Wilkins, 'dead!' 'And how long has he been dead?' Dr. Wilkins makes another examination. 'A hundred years,' he replies." So it is. Faithburn is dead, quite certainly dead! "Here is a method that needs improvement," remarks Mr. Smith to Dr. Wilkins, as the scientific committee on hibernation carries the casket out. "So much for that experiment. But if poor Faithburn is dead, at least he is sleeping," he continued. "I wish I could get some sleep. I am tired out, Doctor, quite tired out! Don't you think a bath would refresh me?" "Certainly. But you must wrap yourself up well before you go out into the hallway. You must not expose yourself to cold." "Hallway? Why, Doctor, as you well know, everything is done by machinery here. It is not for me to go to the bath; the bath will come to me. Just look!" He presses a button. After a few seconds a faint rumbling is heard, growing louder and louder. Suddenly the door opens, and the tub appears. Such, in the year 2889, is the history of one day in the life of the editor of the Earth Chronicle. And the history of that one day is the history of 365 days every year, except leap years, and then of 366 days--for as yet no means has been found of increasing the length of the terrestrial year. Return to the Free Sci-Fi Classics table of contents Return to The World of The Wondersmith Free Sci-Fi Classics Copyright © 1998-2000 Blake Wilfong All rights reserved. |
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