The Ancient Pit

*By John R. Mabry | 1977 | Age 15*

I am not mad--yet some others may say so. Even as I write this, I have no doubts. Why do people say this at all? It started with strange disappearances I happened to witness. It happened in a graveyaerd in Wahsington, DC, three hundred years ago! Even the mass imaginations of the Writing Machings (in this time people do not write books) cannot match this defying story that has baffled lawmen for a century and a half. In the year 3000, we gave up. It is now sitting in the unsolved files all over the nation.

The year is 2075 AD, the date is Dec. 14.

I was in my lab, working on the time-space theory. The lab was small with no windows, the flag of the fifty-two United States was in a corner, a tri-centennial flag stood on the opposite side of the room. The Union Jack was on my desk. I was working on the main power unit for the time travel machine. Thsi was delicate work; if I had touched the wrongg wires--oh, I'd better not say. I worked all night and into a better part of the day.

At 4pm my assistant walked in. the distraction caused me to connect the wrong wires!

The next thing I knew I was lying in a field of flowers. I had read about flowers, but all living trace had long since been destroyed since the Atomic War.

I must have dozed off because when I awoke the sun was rising over the horizon. I stood up and noticed that a gravestone was at my feet. I also noticed that a pit at the end of the graveyard was slowly fading.

A man seemed to be mourning over the gravestone next to mine.

"Pardon me," said I, "What year is this?"

Why I inquired this is not to be known. However, his answer was more than the mind may conceive: "Why, " said he, "It is 1875. Is thee a fool? What dost ye think?"

I nearly fell over backwards--but that incident was nothing compared to what was to come, or, what has happened.

That evening I had no place to go but to the graveyard to which I came.

At dusk, I saw the pit slowly fade into view. On my left there was a couple walking hand in hand through the "unpopulated" area of the graveyard. then suddenly it struck me, I recognized them from my family album, they seemed to be my granparents from eight generations back!

My attention was then drawn to the pit, it seemed to be moving toward my ancestors! It moved faster and faster! When it got in front of them, it stoppe. Their next step was a doozy.

I raced toward them as I suddenly realized: if they die I don't exist! On the way I tripped on a stone and fell into the pit!

I didn't have the sensation of falling, yet II knew I was going down. Floating was more what it felt like, even going at such a great speed: the sides of the walls of the pit seemd to be going up. They (the pit walls) were glowing with a purplish kind of light, they were smooth and looked man-made. I then felt the ground beneath my feet. My eyes were, by then, adjusted to the dim light. It appeared to be a dome in which I was standing. At a glance I found my grandparents from eight generations back, they were frightened when they looked at me. I mean, I don't blame them: someone in a silver-based suit of clothes are enough to frighten anyone in a basic black-fashioned time.

I started the conversation dully; "Nice weather, isn't it?"

They looked at me like I was out of my mind. My next attempt was a little more successful. "My name is Christopher Stevens."

"S-s-small world, isn't it, mate? I's of the callin'--Christopher Stevens, and this 'ers m'lady Jackie Stevens. We were web 'bout two weeks ago," said he.

In about an hour he was talking freely and she made vain attempts to get inot the conversation. I explained that I was actually their great, great, great (etc.) grandson from the future, it took them a while to catch on but the did eventually.

Grandmother admitted that she was starving. As if someone heard, a panel in the dome slid open and a, a man (?) walked in with what looked and tasted like pork chops, my ancestors said (in my time, all foods are synthetic).

He was to be our guide. He looked humanoid, but the only difference was that he had no nose, but instead, gills on the neck.

He appeared to be friendly but I wanted to be sure. I explained to him all that I have told you so far. then he told me his amazing story: when rome was at its highlight, the city of Atlantis and its inhabitants were preparing to submerge themselves. They were fed up with the rest of the world for poking fun at their inventions. Why, they had television by the second century!

Telepathy was a strong ability with them, teleporting was a favorite study, in fact, that's how the pit got there--they (Atlanteans) teleported entire cities to terrestrial areas when they got tired of the sea. They were, in fact, hundreds of centuries ahead of my time!

He said he's start our tour with the main generators.

In my mind's eye I saw a huge room filled with gigantic machines, man was I wrong! On a table no bigger than thimbles sat six generators, whirring and spinning, what a blow! My ancestors stood speechless.

I reminded the Atlantinite (called Bikk) of our problem. Amost as instantaneously as I said this, he mumbled, "Come." He took us to a room lighted with a phosphorecent pickish light coming from the floor. He moved his hand across a panel and it slid open. What stood behind the panel is not what one would think to be important. However, he (Bikk) explained that they are memory tablets. He woudl send us back up the pit, and when we were outside we would eat the tablets and remember nothing of our journey. Although unhappy that we would not stay, he told us the way: we had but to think, "rise...rise" and we would. We made our goodbyes and made our way back to the pit, and thought "rise"--we did, too! About half way up I started thinking about what lay beneath me and then started to fall!

In my fright I dropped my memory tablet! I was doomed to the memory of the horror I had known! Again I thought "rise," and again, I did. I met my ancestors on the grass beneath a gigantic stone cross. "you shall come to live with us," said my distant Grandmother.

I said that it was not possible, I was sorry. Goodbyes and apologies made, we parted. The last thing I knew of them they were eating their tablets. I hadn't slept in days, so I stretched out in front of the gravestone. I then noticed the inscription--"Christopher Stevens-Jacqueline Stevens--both 1813-1875."

When I awok I was lying on something soft--when my eyes adjusted to the dim light from a high window I notices that I was in a padded cell.