The MOBIUS TRAIL
a novelet
by GEORGE O. SMITH
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Thrilling Wonder Stories December 1948.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
CHAPTER I
Fantastic Fact
The first model of any invention is never the refined version. Morethan likely it is a rather sorry mess, containing converted partsand hand-whittled members; strewn profusely with regard only to theirfunction, and without a single thought for the esthetic quality ofplacement or shining panel and meter.
Grown from a single idea, passed through the adolescent growing painsof many failures and few true advances, the finished product is aninefficient, ill-appearing semi-mediocre forerunner of the final thing.The first working model may also make its first success at some oddhour in the morning after a job of work that culminates forty or fiftysolid hours—after a few years of preliminary planning and building.
And so Joseph Kingsley yawned as he stepped back. He was waiting forthe tubes to come up to working temperature. For the past twelve hoursit had been just another half-hour, perhaps, and then a final bit offrustration before the trial. Kingsley refused to give up and go tobed, because success was so close.
His reward was near, now. He watched the meters indolently, smoked acigarette until everything came to stable operating condition, thensnapped the final switch with his left hand as he stared intently at apolished plate of mirror-perfect silver about three inches in diameter.
The plate was ringed by equipment of one sort or another, but Kingsleywas interested only in the plate. Not the mirror image of his own facebehind the plate, but in the surface of the plate itself.
In the dimness, Blair could see Sally framed by a circle of light
Subtly it changed from a solid shining surface to a translucent film,and then it faded into a partially transparent darkness. Kingsley tooka deep breath and realized that he had been holding his breath for afull minute. He shook his head quizzically and poked a pencil forward.
The culmination of months of work depended upon this moment. Accordingto all of the laws of modern physics, the pencil should have comeagainst the silver plate regardless of its change in color. It was notsupposed to stop, yet Kingsley really did not believe that the pencilwould do anything else even though he had designed the gear aftermaking the preliminary discoveries. It was so utterly fantastic that hehimself did not really believe it.
Gingerly he pushed the pencil forward and then he knew that the pointof the pencil was beyond the surface of the silver plate. The plate wasinvisible, now, but in the three-inch expanse, Kingsley could estimatethe virtual surface reasonably close. He shoved the pencil in deep;stopping only when his fingers were close to the invisible surface.
He looked at the pencil. It seemed normal enough. It was illuminatedby the light in his room passing through the three-inch circle made bythe silver plate. On the—other side—there was no light. Or not much,anyway, compared to the high le