THE CLOCKWORK MAN EXPLAINS HIMSELF
I
Late that the Doctor returned from a case, which had taken him to one of the villages near Great Wymering. The engine was and as the car slowly a that into the town; and the Doctor in the seat, hands the wheel, and his through the wind-screen at the of well-lit road ahead of him.
He had almost the top of the hill, and was about to his gear, when a up out of the and for the car. The Doctor his down, but too late to a collision. There was a bump; and the next moment the car the hill, by the figure, who had no from the contact.
Aware that his were not to another disaster, the Doctor the car and ran back132]wards into the hedge. He out into the road and approached the still moving figure.
"What the devil!"
The stopped with suddenness, but offered no explanation.
"What are you playing at?" the Doctor demanded, at the of his car. "It's a wonder I didn't kill you."
And then, as he approached nearer to that form, at him with that in the darkness, he something familiar about his appearance. At the same moment he that this had actually into the car without the least harm. The the Doctor for a seconds; he only at the Clockwork man. The static, as though, in his turn, trying to the of what had happened.
It to the Doctor that here was an opportunity to matters.
"Look here," he out, after a pause, "once and for all, who are you?"
A question, put, produced some of upon the Clockwork man. It to the in his brain that speech possible. But his reply was disconcerting.
"Who are you?" he demanded, after a or two.
"I am a doctor," said Allingham, taken back, "a medical man. If you are at all—"
An of light in the other's eye, and he to over this statement.
"Does that that you can people?" he enquired, at last.
"Why yes, I it does," Allingham admitted, not what else to say.
The Clockwork man sighed, a long, sigh. "I wish you would me. I'm all you know. Something has got out of place, I think. My clock won't work properly."
"Your clock," the doctor.
"It's difficult to explain," the Clockwork man continued, "but so as I remember, doctors were people who used to beings the days of the clock. Now they are called mechanics. But it to the same thing."
"If you will come with me to my surgery," the Doctor suggested, with as much as he assume, "I'll do my best for you."
The Clockwork man stiffly. "Thank you. Of course, I'm a little than I was, but my ears still occasionally."
The Doctor this. He had134] and in order to the engine of his car. When he looked up again he an sight.
The Clockwork man was by his side, a of and his features. With one hand he was the of the car.
"Poor thing," he was saying, "It must be dreadfully. I am so sorry."
Allingham paused in the of the and stared, aghast, at his companion. There was no the of the remark, and it had been spoken in of tenderness. Rapidly there across the Doctor's mind a of complete conviction. If there was any proof of the truth of Gregg's conjecture, surely it was in this and yet on the part of the Clockwork man for an machine? He in the him a of his own species!
The thing was at once and rational, and the Doctor almost to a to laugh hysterically. Then, with a final of the handle, he started the engine and opened the door of the car for the Clockwork man to enter. The latter, after making to the step in the135] ordinary manner, and into the interior. The Doctor followed, and up the figure, him in a upon the seat. He was light, and there was something about the of his that sent a of the Doctor's spine. He was by now, and the manner in which his took for only his alarm.
"I know one thing," the Clockwork man remarked, as the car to move, "I'm hungry."
II
That the Clockwork man was likely to prove a of to him in more than one was to the Doctor almost as soon as they entered the house. Mrs. Masters, who was the supper, the visitor with a huffiness. He upon her as an for which she was not prepared. And the Doctor's manner was not reassuring. He seemed, for the time being, to that which him to over the in life. It was unfortunate, perhaps, that he should have allowed Mrs. Masters to an of distrust, but he was136] nervous, and that was to put the good lady on her guard.
"Lay an place, will you, Mrs. Masters," the Doctor had as they entered the room.
"I'm you'll 'ave to make do," was the rejoinder, for there was not much on the table, and the Doctor a light supper. "There's watercress," she added, defensively.
"Care for watercress?" the Doctor, trying hard to at his guest.
The Clockwork man at his interrogator. "Watercress," he remarked, "is not much in my line. Something solid, if you have it, and as much as possible. I a faint."
He sat hurriedly, on the couch, and the Doctor him for symptoms. But there were none of an character. He had not his and wig.
"Bring up anything you can find," the Doctor in Mrs. Masters' ear, "my friend has had a long journey. Anything you can find. Surely we have in tins."
His were by an hyæna-like from the direction of the couch. It was by another, more prodigious. The room137] with the Clockwork man's of appetite.
"Bless us!" Mrs. Masters not help saying. "Manners!"
"Is there anything you particularly fancy?" the Doctor.
"Eggs," the on the couch. "Large of eggs—infinite eggs."
"See what you can do in the of eggs,'' the Doctor, and Mrs. Masters departed, with the light of in her eye, for to a man, one she with suspicion, was part of her religion.
"I'm I put you to great inconvenience," the visitor, still and about on the couch. "The is, I ought to be able to produce things—but that part of me to have gone again. I did make a start—but it was only a in the pan. So sorry if I'm a nuisance."
"Not at all," said the Doctor, without much success to his guest as an ordinary being, "I am to blame. I ought to have that you would nourishment. But, of course, I am still in the dark—"
He paused abruptly, aware that were taking place in the of the Clockwork man. His to be a series of and complicated138] physical and chemical processes. His colour rapidly, from its to a hue, and then to a flush. Concurrent with this, there was a movement of the and just the skin.
The Doctor was as yet in the mind to study these accurately. At the of his mind there was the of Mrs. Masters returning with the supper. He to ordinary speech, but the Clockwork man abstracted, and the of his every second. It to the Doctor that he had a little on the middle of the Clockwork man's chin, but now he couldn't see the dimple. It was with something and delicate, something that was until it almost obvious.
"You see," the Doctor, making a to his own perceptions, "it's all so unexpected. I'm I shan't be able to you much until I know the facts, and then—"
He the of a chair. It was no longer possible for him to himself about the on the Clockwork man's chin. He was a beard—swiftly and visibly. Already some of the had to his collar.
"I your pardon," said the Clockwork man, of the development. "Irregular growth—most inconvenient—it's to my condition—I'm all to pieces, you know—things spontaneously." He appeared to be hard to some himself, but the to grow.
The Doctor his voice again. "Great heavens," he out, in a shout. "Stop it. You must stop it—I can't it."
He had of a room full of beard. It was the most thing he had witnessed, and there was no about it. The had actually his eyes, and it had now to the second of the Clockwork man's waistcoat. And, at any moment, Mrs. Masters might return!
Suddenly, with a two of his ears, the Clockwork man his difficulty. He appeared to set in action some process. The as if by magic. The doctor into a chair.
"You mustn't do anything like that again," he hoarsely. "You—must—let—me—know—when—you—feel it—coming on."
In of his agitation, it to him140] that he must be prepared for than this. It was no use way to panic. Incredible as had been the performance, the flight, and now this of beard, there were about the Clockwork man that pointed to still abnormalities. The Doctor himself up to the worst; he had no at all with which to these manifestations, and it more than likely that the serio-comic seated on the would presently offer some of his own.
A moments later Mrs. Masters entered the room a with the promised meal. True to her instinct, the good must have the of her in order to provide what she as but an of a repast. Little did she know for what Brobdingnagian she was catering! At the of the six white eggs in their cups, the guest a movement of the direction of his desire, if not of very of their fulfilment. Besides eggs, there were of sandwiches, and butter, and cakes.
Mrs. Masters had her for the best she do at such notice, and retired, than the Clockwork141] man set to with an that and the Doctor. The six eggs were and in as many seconds. The of the food in a series of jerks, by of the jaws; the whole of the pulsations of the of a petrol engine. So were the vibrations, that the whole of the part of the Clockwork man's was only visible as a of outlines.
The as as it had begun, and the Doctor enquired, with as much as his would allow, he offer him any more.
"I have still," said the Clockwork man, his by a hand against his stomach, "an here."
"Dear me," the Doctor, "you us at present. I must think of something." He on talking, as though to time. "It's obvious, of course, that you need more than an person. I ought to have realised. There would be metabolism—naturally, to function. But, of course, the—er—motive this of yours is still a to me. Am I right in that there is a of mechanism?"
"It makes go faster," the Clockwork man, "and more accurately."
"Quite," the Doctor. He was now, with his on the table and his on one side. "I can see that. There are about you that one as being obvious. But what me at present is how—and where—" he looked, speaking, at the of the Clockwork man, "I mean, in what part of your the—er—motive is situated."
"The principle," said the Clockwork man, "is throughout, but the clock—" His ran on for a moments and ended in an that nearly him out of his seat. "Beg pardon—what I to say is that the clock—wallabaloo—wum—wum—"
"I am prepared to take that for granted," put in the Doctor, slightly.
"You must understand," the Clockwork man, making a painful to his arms and look natural, "you must understand—click—click—that it is difficult for me to on in this manner. Not only are my speech disordered—G-r-r-r-r-r-r—but I am not to my thoughts143] in this way (here there was a loud noise, like a machine, and to a crescendo). My brain is—so—constituted that action—except in a world—is to be spasmodic—Pfft—Pfft—Pfft. In fact—Pfft—it is only—Pfft—because I am in such a hope—hope—hopeless condition that I am able to with you at all."
"I see," said Allingham, slowly, "it is you are, so to speak, incapacitated, that you are able to come to the level of our world."
"It's an extra—ordinary world," the other, with a that to about a of coherency. "I can't used to it. Everything is so and restricted. I wouldn't have it possible that in the century would have been so backward. I always that this age was to be the beginning. History says the nineteenth and centuries were full of and enquiry. The mind of man was awakening. But it is how little has been done. I see no of the great movement. Why, you have not yet the of the machines."
"We have and machines," Allingham, weakly.
"And you them like slaves," the Clockwork man. "That was to me by your your car. It was not until man to respect the that his history begun. What ideas have you about the relation of man to the cosmos?"
"We have a of relativity," Allingham ventured.
"Einstein!" The Clockwork man's just to an of surprise. "Is he already born?"
"He is to be understood. And some attempt is being to popularise his theory. But I don't know that I agree."
The Doctor hesitated, aware of the of upon such a where his was concerned. Another idea came into his head. "What of a world is yours? To look at, I mean. How it appear to the and touch?"
"It is a world," the Clockwork man (he had managed to his arms now, and from a his was normal). "Now, your world has a shape. That is what puzzles me so. There is one of everything. One sky, and one floor. Everything is and stable. At least, so it to145] me. And then you have objects about in positions, trees, houses, lamp-posts—and they their positions. It me of the they used in the old theatres. Now, in my world is moving, and there is not one of everything, but always there are a great many of each thing. The has no shape at all. The sky not look, like yours does, a of bowl. It is a void. But what me so about your world is that to be leading somewhere, and you always to come to the end of things. But in my world goes on for ever."
"But the and houses?" Allingham, "aren't they like ours?"
The Clockwork man his head. "We have houses, but they are not full of like yours are, and we don't live in them. They are places where we go when we take ourselves to pieces or ourselves. They are—" his mouth opened very wide, "the nearest approach to objects that we have, and we them as jumping-off places for into dimensions. Streets are of unnecessary, since the only object of a is to lead from one place to another, and we do that of thing in other ways. Again, our houses are146] not together in the fashion of yours. They are and everywhere, and and nowhen. For instance, I live in the day yesterday and my friend in the day after to-morrow."
"I to what you mean," said Allingham, his into his hands, "as an idea, that is. It to me that, to borrow the of Shakespeare, I have long of such a of man as you. But now that you are me, in the—er—flesh, I myself unable to accept you."
The Doctor was trying hard to a in the Clockwork man for a of panic, but he was not very successful. "You to me," he added, lamely, "so very theoretical."
And then he the of beard, and that it was to that last thin of in his mind. For he said nothing at all, and the Clockwork man to take of the pause in order to wind himself up to a new of coherency.
"It would be ridiculous," he began, after bifurcations, "for me to myself more to you. Unless you had a clock you couldn't possibly understand. But I I have it clear that my world is a world. It has a thousand147] as to one of yours. It is a world of many dimensions, and every is with people and things. Only they don't in each other's way, like you do, there are always other at hand."
"That I can follow," said the Doctor, his brows, "that to me clear. I can just that, as the of another of world. But what I don't understand, what I can't to understand, is how you work, how this which you talk about functions."
He delivered this last in the manner of an ultimatum, and the Clockwork man to over it for a seconds. He was puzzled by the question, and hard lines appeared upon his and slowly one another out of existence. It the Doctor of Venetian being up and very rapidly.
"Well," the reply was out at last, "how do you work?" The of the Clockwork man was none the less for being suspended, as it were, for a second or two delivery.
The doctor and his upon a pot. He came up to the with a new suggestion.
"Now, that's a good idea. We might arrive at something by comparison. I of that." He the pot again and to in his mind. "It's a little difficult to know where to begin," he temporised.
"Begin at the end, if you like," the Clockwork man, affably. "It's all the same to me. First and last, or inside, or back—it all the same idea to me."
"We are of action," the Doctor, with the air of a man upon a long voyage, "we act from motives. There is a as Cause and Effect. Everything is related. Every action has its equal and opposite re-action. Nobody can do anything, or think anything, without producing some change, slight, in the of things. Every movement that we make, almost every that through our minds, another upon the surface of time, upon this of and effect."
"Ah," the Clockwork man, a to the of his nose, "I to understand. You work upon a different principle, or an principle. You see, all that has been solved149] now. The clock all that out in advance. It ahead of our selves. No we still go through the same processes, sub-consciously, all such that relate to Cause and Effect. But we, that is, ourselves, are the of such calculations, and the only we are of are those which are as consequents."
Allingham passed a hand across his forehead. "It all so feasible," he remarked, "once you the mechanism. But what I don't understand—"
Here, however, the came to an conclusion, for something was to the Clockwork man.
