The Time Machine
An inventor travels to the year 802,701 and discovers humanity's distant future.
Page 1
The Time Traveller sat with his friends after dinner, a fire glowing in the hearth. Most of his guests were important people—doctors and writers—and they loved to hear his strange ideas. "You think of Time as a line," he told them, leaning forward eagerly. "But what if it's a dimension, like length or width? A person could move through it, forward or back." His friends laughed. "But that's impossible!" said one. "How could anyone leave the present moment?" The Time Traveller smiled. "It is not impossible. In fact," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I have already built a machine to do it." He stood up and beckoned them to follow him. "Come into my laboratory. I will show you."
Page 2
In his laboratory, among glass tubes and strange diagrams, the Time Traveller showed his friends a small, glittering model. It was made of ivory and crystal, a perfect miniature of a larger machine half-finished in the corner. "This is my Time Machine," he announced. "Watch closely." He invited one of his guests to inspect the levers. "Press this one to go into the future," he instructed. A log on the fire settled in the other room, and a little breeze blew out the lamp. In the dim light, the guest pushed the tiny lever. There was a soft whoosh, a flicker of light, and the model was gone. It had vanished completely. "Do you see?" the Time Traveller asked the stunned group. "It is now in the future. And tonight, I mean to follow it."
Page 3
The journey through time was a dizzying rush of light and shadow. When the machine finally stopped, the Time Traveller found himself on a soft lawn in the blinding sunshine of a distant age. It was the year 802,701. Before him stood a colossal, weather-beaten statue of a White Sphinx, its stone eyes staring blankly over a beautiful, garden-like world. Soon, small, graceful people emerged from a grand building nearby. They were no taller than children, with gentle faces and large, soft eyes. They laughed and chattered like birds, showing no fear. "They call themselves the Eloi," the Traveller thought, as they came forward to greet him. One of them placed a chain of strange, beautiful flowers around his neck. "Are these the people of the future?" he wondered. "Where has all the strength and cleverness of humanity gone?"
Page 4
One morning, his machine was gone. The tracks led to the Sphinx, whose bronze doors were shut. He soon found that the Eloi were not alone. Dark wells dotted the landscape, with a constant thumping from below. Taking a box of matches, he bravely climbed down. He found a world of tunnels and vast caverns, filled with the roar of giant machines. And in the gloom, he met the Morlocks: pale, ape-like creatures with large, reddish eyes. "Who are you?" he shouted. A cold touch on his shoulder was his only answer. When he lit a match, they shrieked and scrambled away. "What do you want from me?" he demanded. "They are the workers," he realized with a shudder. "They live down here, running the world, while the Eloi play above."
Page 5
Despite the danger, the Time Traveller found a friend. He saw a young Eloi named Weena fall into a river, and when her friends only laughed, he jumped in. "Hold on!" he cried, pulling her from the current. "I have you." He carried her to the bank. From that moment on, she was his constant companion, filling his pockets with flowers. She could not tell him how to get his machine back, but her friendship was a great comfort. "You are safe now," he told her gently. Her trust gave him the courage he needed to face the Morlocks. For the first time, he felt he was not entirely alone in this strange, and sometimes frightening, future world.
Page 6
The Time Traveller knew he couldn't face the Morlocks with his bare hands. He needed a weapon, and fire. Remembering the old museums of his own time, he led Weena on a long journey to a huge, crumbling building he called the Palace of Green Porcelain. Inside, under a dusty, broken roof, were the treasures of the ancient world. They walked through halls of rusting machines and crumbling skeletons of giant animals. "This was a museum!" he exclaimed to Weena. "A place of learning!" In a gallery of chemistry, he found what he was looking for: a sealed box of matches and a bottle of flammable camphor. He also broke off a heavy metal lever from one of the machines. "Now I can fight back," he said, holding the lever. "And now I can make a fire to keep us safe."
Page 7
Returning from the palace, night fell as they crossed a great forest. The clicking sounds of the Morlocks and their red eyes were everywhere. "Stay close to me, Weena!" he shouted, building a fire. "The light will keep them back!" But he was exhausted, and fell asleep. He awoke to a nightmare. The fire had spread to the trees, and the forest was ablaze. In the smoke and confusion, Morlocks were scattering, and Weena was gone. "Weena!" he cried, searching frantically through the burning woods. But there was no answer. He was alone again, his heart heavy with loss.
Page 8
Heartbroken, the Traveller returned to the Sphinx. The bronze doors were open. Inside was his Time Machine. It was a trap. As he ran to it, the doors slid shut. The sound of the Morlocks was all around. He scrambled into the saddle. "Get back!" he yelled, fumbling for the levers. Their cold hands grabbed at him. "Let go of me!" He struck a match. The sudden flare sent the Morlocks reeling back. In that brief moment, he found the main lever. "At last!" he cried, pushing it forward with all his strength. The dark chamber, the pale faces of the Morlocks, all vanished in a swirl of color. He was traveling in time once more.
Page 9
Fleeing the Morlocks, the Traveller pushed his machine far, far into the future. Thirty million years. He stopped on a lonely beach under a huge, dying red sun that never moved in the sky. The air was thin and bitterly cold. The sea did not move with tides, but lay still and oily. The world was almost silent. He saw one last living thing: a large, black creature with long tentacles, flopping slowly at the edge of the water. It was the end of the world. "I have seen enough," he thought, his heart cold with terror. "I must go back. I must go back to my own time."
Page 10
The Time Traveller returned to his own home, to the very night he had left. He staggered back into his dining room, where his friends were still talking. He was exhausted, dirty, and limped on one foot, but he told them his entire, unbelievable story. Most did not believe him. But as proof, he reached into his pocket and pulled out two strange, wilted white flowers. "Weena put them there," he said softly. The next day, his friend the narrator went to visit him. The Time Traveller was in his laboratory, preparing for another journey. "I need to know for sure," he said. "And I want to bring back more proof." He smiled, climbed into his machine, and pulled the lever. He vanished. That was three years ago. He has never returned.
About this story
- Audience: kids (ages 6–12)
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