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What can be said (at this point in time) about R. A. Lafferty? When I first read the following story (for
the title, see Macbeth, Scene VII) and came to the first reference to a time satellite and a time shuttle, I
felt my heart sink just a bit-the premise of the anthology, after all, was to get at the past without any
recourse to such well-used devices.
I need not have worried. Lafferty's stories, like those of Phillip K. Dick, are not susceptible of being
confused with the work of any other writer. And Lafferty's time machine is not in the least bit like that of
H. G. Wells.
At Moonwick, time is a mulch many meters deep.
These are the centuries and the thousands that we want to explore, and I never saw them piled up so
beautifully&
BANK AND SHOAL OF TIME
R. A. Lafferty
THE PEOPLE. All are thirty years old except Peter Luna who is somewhat older than that, whatever
year it is.
PETER LUNA. The genial and dying proprietor of a time post-house or relay-house. He is a
door-keeper of time. "I need a matched set of at least five," he said.
HENRY KEMP, the "Time-Reconstruction Man ". "You can build time like anything else.'' Henry is
blue-eyed and shocky-haired and pleasant.
ANNABELLA MacBEAN, the "Clotted Dream Woman". She is a large young woman, ruddy of
complexion and wit.
ETHAN FARQUHARSON, the "Intuition-is-the-Key-to-Time Man." "We have all walked through time
in our powerful moments." Ethan is Scotch, and eagle-eyed and eagle-beaked.
ROWENA CHARTERIS, the "Did-You-Ever-See-a-Naked-Ghost? Lady". She is too serious, she is
shortsighted, but she is of limitless faith. She is under special auspices.
ABEL ROARING, the "Time-is-a-Pile-of-Transparen-cies Man ". "There is no clear line where
archaeology leaves off and time travel begins." He is a rocky and clattering man.
You'd like Abel. You'd like them all.
THE PLACE
Moonwick Estate near Lunel in the Herault Department of the Peoples Republic of France. At
Moonwick, Time is a mulch many meters deep.
THE SEASON.
Summertime, summertime, summertime. There's nothing like it for time-travel.
THE PROPS.
Lark song, the noises of contented cattle and sheep, sound of grapes growing, low fidelity radio playing
(with all his money, why doesn't Peter Luna get a good radio?), the colors green, blue, gold, yellow,
russet, brown, cloud-white, wheat-yellow, water-gray. Sunshine, sunshine.
THE TIME.
A couple of minutes after noon on "Midsummer's Day" of an ambiguous year.
THE MOTTO.
"That Most Intricate of Pleasures, Time."
1
This was the message received by a dozen or so experts in the "time attempters" field:
"I have succeeded in establishing a creeping time-satellite or time-shuttle at my estate of Moonwick near
Lunel in the Herault Department of the Peoples Republic of France. If you are really experts in your field,
you will appreciate the importance of this. From this time-shuttle, which is just beyond the 'shoal' of all of
you to whom I am sending this message, it will be possible for you to launch genuine time probes. I am
sending this to a dozen or so and I hope for acceptance from at least five. I must have a matched set of at
least five. Some soon. A very little bit after 'soon' will be too late for me to transmit the shuttle to you.
Bring ideas only. Everything else for frugal and break-through living is provided. You will receive various
transportation chits and enabling papers. Peter Luna."
The World Courier Service ("No questions asked, Messages carried anywhere or anywhen in the
world") delivered these messages to the dozen or so persons who were experts in the time field. And
some of the people gave assent and some didn't. So, the next day, the Courier Service delivered airline
tickets, train tickets, and International Taxi Coupons to five of the experts who had agreed to go to
Moonwick.
So it happened that, on a sunny day in summer, five cabs drove up to the crumbling stone and rusting iron
gateway of the estate Moonwick in the Herault Department of the Peoples Republic of France, not far
from the town of Lunel. The taxi cabs arrived from five different directions by five different roads, (that's
right, there were three main roads and two little dog-leg roads that came together there), and they all
arrived about the same time.
"Why, this is a marvel," one of the taxi drivers said. "There is a big house back from the gate! Why have I
never seen anything except a pile of rubbish there before?"
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