Bradbury, Ray - The Sound of Thunder

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file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Ray%20Bradbury%20-%20The%20Sound%20of%20Thunder.txt

The sign on the wall seemed to quaver under a film of sliding

warm water, Eckels felt his eyelids blink over his stare,

and the sign burned in this momentary darkness:

TIME SAFARI, INC.

SAFARIS TO ANY YEAR IN THE PAST.

YOU NAME THE ANIMAL.

WE TAKE YOU THERE.

YOU SHOOT IT.

A warm phlegm gathered in Eckels' throat; he swallowed

and pushed it down. The muscles around his mouth formed

a smile as he put his hand slowly out upon the air, and in

that hand waved a check for ten thousand dollars to the

man behind the desk.

"Does this safari guarantee I come back alive?"

"We guarantee nothing," said the official, "except the

dinosaurs." He turned. "This is Mr. Travis, your Safari

Guide in the Past. He'll tell you what and where to shoot.

If he says no shooting, no shooting. If you disobey instructions,

there's a stiff penalty of another ten thousand dollars,

plus possible government action, on your return."

Eckels glanced across the vast office at a mass and tangle,

a snaking and humming of wires and steel boxes, at an

aurora that flickered now orange, now silver, now blue.

There was a sound like a gigantic bonfire burning all of

Time, all the years and all the parchment calendars, all the

hours piled high and set aflame.

A touch of the hand and this burning would, on the instant,

beautifully reverse itself. Eckels remembered the

wording in the advertisements to the letter. Out of chars

and ashes, out of dust and coals, like golden salamanders,

the old years, the green years, might leap; roses sweeten

the air, white hair turn Irish-black, wrinkles vanish; all,

everything fly back to seed, flee death, rush down to their

beginnings, suns rise in western skies and set in glorious

easts, moons eat themselves opposite to the custom, all and

everything cupping one in another like Chinese boxes, rabbits

in hats, all and everything returning to the fresh death,

the seed death, the green death, to the time before the

beginning. A touch of a hand might do it, the merest touch

of a hand.

"Hell and damn," Eckels breathed, the light of the

Machine on his thin face. "A real Time Machine." He shook his

head. "Makes you think. If the election had gone badly

yesterday, I might be here now running away from the results.

Thank God Keith won. He'll make a fine President of the

United States."

"Yes," said the man behind the desk. "Were lucky. If

Deutscher had gotten in, we'd have the worst kind of

dictatorship. There's an anti-everything man for you, a

militarist, anti-Christ, anti-human, anti-intellectual.

People called us up, you know, joking but not joking. Said if

Deutscher became President they wanted to go live in 1492.

Of course it's not our business to conduct Escapes, but to

form Safaris. Anyway, Keith's President now. All you got to

worry about is"

"Shooting my dinosaur," Eckels finished it for him.

"A Tyrannosaurus Rex. The Thunder Lizard, the damnedest

monster in history. Sign this release. Anything happens

to you, we're not responsible. Those dinosaurs are hungry."

Eckels flushed angrily. "Trying to scare me!"

"Frankly, yes. We don't want anyone going who'll panic

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Bradbury, Ray - The Sound of Thunder

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