The burial was passed. We had not spoken of our enterprise, but
it had never left my thoughts. This boy and girl so newly come
to maturity--but I was twenty-nine. Upon me would fall the main
responsibility.
We sat at last in Dr. Gryce's study--the three of us alone--to discuss
our task. With the first poignancy of their shock and sorrow already
dulled by time, upon the faces of Martt and Frannie was stamped grimly
their simple purpose.
"But, Martt," I said, "Brett's vehicle was very intricate. It
traveled in Space--but in Time as well. And grew gigantic in size.
Your father's genius built it. But we have no such genius to build
another----"
"You forget," he interrupted. "Think back, Frank. That day you came
here. And we showed you the models of the vehicle. There were four of
them----"
Then I remembered. Dr. Gryce had shown me four small models. One he had
sent back into Time. A flash, like a dissipating puff of vapor it was
gone into the Past; still here in Space above the taboret on which it
was standing, but vanished with centuries of Time to hide it from my
sight.
Another of the models, with Time unchanged, Dr. Gryce had sent into
Infinite Smallness. I remembered watching it dwindling; a speck, a
pinhead, then invisible even to the microscope.
Two of the models were left. Martt and Frannie, but seventeen years old
then, had taken one into the garden. Had started it growing in size. I
recalled our frantic efforts to check its growth, lest it demolish the
house. This was the one in which Martt and Brett had gone to the giant
world and in which Brett had returned alone to that distant part of our
universe.
One model had remained. I had never thought of it since. Martt was
saying, ". . . and we still have that last model. Father kept it
very carefully." Martt's smile was wistful with the memory. "I think
he--Father--had a premonition that he would not live to carry out his
purpose. . . . The model is here."
He opened a locked steel box. Again I gazed silently at that small cube
of milk-white metal--a cube the length of my forearm, with its tiny
tower on top, its glasslike balcony, its windows and its doors.
"It's all complete," said Martt. "And I know how to operate it."
Frannie said with a touch of breathlessness, "For a month past, Father
has been gathering the necessary instruments. And the supplies--you see
he--he really thought he was going to live----"
"We're all ready," Martt added. "We will increase this model to normal
size. Load it with our supplies. We can start tomorrow, Frank."