* * * * *
Down in the basement, the machinery looked complex, with all sorts of
thermostats and speedometers.
"Automatic stoker?" I asked.
"Time machine," she said.
"You don't mean a time machine like H. G. Wells's," I said, to show her
I wasn't ignorant.
"Not exactly like that, but close," she answered sadly. "This has been
the cause of all your trouble, William."
"It has?"
"Yes. This house and the ground around it are the Primary Focus area
for the Hexers. The Hexers have tormented and persecuted you all your
life. They got you into trouble. They made you think you were going
crazy--"
"I never thought I was going crazy!" I yelled at her.
"That must have made it worse," she said miserably.
I thought about it. "I suppose it did. What are the Hexers? What--for
the sake of argument--have they got against me?"
"The Hexers aren't human. I suppose they are extraterrestrials. No
one ever told me. Maybe they are a kind of human strain that went
different. I don't really know. They want different things than we do,
but they can buy some of them with money, so they can be hired. People
in the future hire them to hex people in the past."
"Why would anybody up ahead there with Buck Rogers want to cause me
trouble? I'm dead then, aren't I?"
"Yes, you must be. It's a long time into the future. But, you see, some
of my relatives there want to punish you for--it must be for killing
Father. They lost out on a chain of inheritance because he died when
he did. They have money now, but they are bitter because they had to
make it themselves. They can afford every luxury--even the luxury of
revenge."
I suppose when you keep seeing monsters and hearing yourself say
things you didn't say, you can believe unusual things easier. I
believed Miss Tompkins.
"It was not murder," I said. "I killed him by accident."
"No matter. They would hex you if you had hit him with a car in a fog
or given him the flu by sneezing in his face. I understand people are
hexed all the time for things they never even knew they did. People
up there have a lot of leisure, a lot of time to indulge their every
irritation or hate. I think it must be decadent, the way Rome was."
"What do you--and the machine--have to do with my hex?" I asked.
"This is the Primary Focus area, I told you. It's how the Hexers get
into this time hypothesis. They can't get back into this Primary
itself, but they can come and go through the outer boundary. It's hard
to set up a Primary Focus--takes a tremendous drain of power. They
broke through into the basement of the old house before I was born and
Daddy was the first custodian of the machine. He never knew that he
was helping avenge his own death. They let that slip later, after--it
happened."
"Why did they come to you? Why did you help them?"
She turned half away. "The custodian is well paid. My relatives
preferred the salary to go to someone in the family, instead of an
outsider. Daddy accepted the offer and I've carried on the job."
"Paid? You were paid?"
She brushed at her eyes. "Oh, not in United States currency. But--Daddy
got to be president of the store. It was set up so he could make a
fortune that they could inherit. All he left was his insurance, and
that went to mother. She died a few months later and some of it went to
me and the rest to her relatives."
"You mean my life has been like it has because some descendants of
yours in the future hate me for an accident that deprived them of some
money?"
* * * * *
She nodded enthusiastically. "You understand! And because I helped the
Hexers they hired get to you. I was afraid you wouldn't believe me.
Now"--she stopped to exhale--"do you want to kill me?"
"No, I don't want to kill you." I walked over and squinted at the
machine. "Could _I_ get into the future with this thing?"
"I don't know how you work the outer boundary. I think you need
something else. There's an internal energy contact--you can talk to
Communications." She raced through that. "You want to kill _them_,
don't you? The Hexers and my relatives?"
"I don't want to kill anybody," I told her patiently. "I feel dirty
just hearing how far some people can go for revenge. I just want them
to let me alone. Why don't they kill me and get it over with?"
"They haven't a license to kill. Not yet. There's legislation going on."
"Listen," I said, listening to the idea coming into my head, "_listen_.
These descendants of your mother's relatives--they _did_ inherit money
because your father died. Maybe they feel grateful to me. Maybe they
would help me. Would you help me try to talk to them?"
"Yes," Miss Tompkins said, and she used a dial on the machine.
It was as simple as putting through a phone call.
"We really understand your situation," Mr. Grimes-Tompkins said. "But
it would take quite a bit to buy off the Hexers. However, we certainly
appreciate the killing you made for us."
"Couldn't you buy off the Hexers, then, with some of the money I
brought to your side of the family?" I asked.
"We don't appreciate it _that_ much."
"What? You aren't going to pay him back for killing my father?" Miss
Tompkins cried, outraged.
"Look," I said, "if you had some money of mine, would you pay off the
Hexers for me? You do still use money up there, don't you?"
"We certainly do, young man. Just what did you have in mind?"
"If I gave you authorization now to use any assets I have in your time,
would it be legal?"
"Declarations by temporal transmission? Yes, of course. Routine
transaction."
"Take any money I have and use it to pay off the Hexers. Will you do
it?"
"I don't see why not, since our ancestor seems to approve."
Miss Tompkins regarded me solemnly. "What do you intend to do,
William?"
"Banks are out," I said, thinking hard. "They don't let inactive
accounts go on drawing interest more than twenty years, or something
like that. But government bonds don't have to be converted when they
mature. One bond can pile up a fantastic amount of interest for them to
collect."
"You have government bonds, William?"
"Not yet."
Miss Tompkins stood close to me. "I have plenty of money, William. I'll
give it to you. You can buy bonds in my name."
"No. I'll get my own money."
"Shall I destroy the machine, William? Of course they'll only open
another Focus--"
"No, you would just get yourself hexed too."
"What can I do, William?" she asked. "All along, ever since I was a
little girl, I've known I've been helping to torture somebody. I didn't
even know your name, William, but I helped torture you--"
"Because I killed your father."
"--and I've got to make it up to you. I'll give you everything,
William, everything."
"Sure," I said, "to take me off your conscience. And if I take your
offer and you get hexed, what happens to my conscience? Do we go around
again--me working my tail off to raise the dough to get you unhexed,
and you buying the Hexers off me? Where would it stop? We're even
right now. Let's let it go at that."
"But, William, if we've taken, now we can give to each other."
She looked almost pretty then, and I wanted her the way I'd always
wanted women. But I knew better. She wasn't going to get me into any
trouble.
"No, thanks. Good-by."