Aliens

He looked at the fantastic, beauteous sleeper, and his haggard face was terrible again with longing and despair and dread.

Why should father want tounlock the doors of the unknown—probe backward through time? Beyond the beyond!

For a space of roughly ten ages we have been asleep, in a state of suspended animation, in that mighty mausoleum known as your Moon.

“They are not dead,” he averred; “within half an hour of your time they will be returned, unaware of what has taken place. They must wait for Time to catch up with them!”

The past—could there be such a thing as a time-shift? The whole idea was a paradox, wasn’t it? Like that yarn about the chap who went back in time and murdered his own grandfather.

Larado: Your orders, sir? [pause] Sir, your orders?
Commander Taggart: Activate the Omega 13. [To be continued . . .]

This is now my new favorite moment in human history.

I am slightly lost in space and time right now and need to get home in order to make sure my children get milk for their breakfast.

For progeny and ancestors of the Retromens had communicated with their caretaker, studying him as he studied them, generation for generation.