There was a loud crashing sound.
And then—unexpectedly—a faint hum—a sudden blurry curtain before my eyes—a rolling, seething, billowing mist of white—and a moment of exquisite pain....
And Angus Haney's voice from a million miles away: "You're destroying it...."
Then blackness like the gulf between the stars.
Or between the centuries.
Well that's the story. I'm telling you everything so you'll understand. I am not—repeat, not—crazy. I'm as sane as you are. Of course my emotional responses to your mental tests are different: I'm from the twentieth century.
I know I can't get back. I know a little more ought to be said about my story. Angus failed to stop Great-great, who completely demolished his machine.
How do I know?
Because you never even heard of a successful experiment in time travel here in the twenty-first century. Simple, isn't it.