The Disappearance of David Lang
by
Gary Westlake
“David
Lang had not taken more than half a dozen steps when he disappeared in
full view of all those present. Mrs. Lang screamed. The children, too
startled to realize what had happened, stood mutely. Instinctively,
they all ran toward the spot where Lang had last been seen a few
seconds before. Judge Peck and his companion, the Judge's
brother-in-law, scrambled out of their buggy and raced across the
field. The five of them arrived on the spot of Lang's disappearance
almost simultaneously. There was not a tree, not a bush, not a hole to
mar the surface. And not a single clue to indicate what had happened to
David Lang.”
Frank Edwards, Stranger Than Science (1959)
David Lang watches the fields and house vanish, replaced by a dark metal room with harsh bright lighting.
"What - ?" he starts to ask, but is cut off by a boomingly loud voice.
"Langley Davidson, you are hereby arrested on multiple charges of crimes against humanity. Please remain as you are."
"Where am I? What is this all about?"
Two
black-uniformed men step forward. One takes his arm and twists it
behind his back, then takes the other arm and restrains the wrists with
what Lang assumes are handcuffs. The two men then roughly pull him out
of the room into a large hall with many doors. People dressed in
strange clothes walk around this hall. They stop to look at him as he
passes. Lang hears someone whisper, "At last they got him."
"Where are you taking me?" he asks the two men, but they stay silent.
They
turn toward one of the doors. Through it is what looks like a
courtroom, though the walls are the same black metal as the first room
he was in. People sitting on rows of seats turn to look, some gasping,
some crying out. A man leaps to his feet and rushes toward them, but is
restrained by the others in his row. "You bastard!" he yells. "You
murdering bastard!"
The judge, seated up high on her bench, pounds her gavel and shouts, "Bailiff! Remove that man from this courtroom!"
The
air flickers ahead with electricity. Lang and his captors walk through
to one of the tables set on either side of the room. He looks back to
see the air flicker again, just before the angry man, having broken
away from the bailiff, reaches him. The air flickers again as the man
hits an invisible wall and is flung back.
"Mr. Davidson," says a
woman at the table he's taken to, "I'm Jane Marks, your court-appointed
attorney. I have been defending you in this case."
"What case? What do you mean 'have been'?"
"Come on, Mr. Davidson. This will go along easier if you drop the act. We all know who you really are."
"I'm David Lang. I'm a farmer from Tennessee. Where is this place?"
"OK, Mr. Davidson. You want to play it this way, fine, but I should tell you. You've already been tried and convicted in absentia.
This is your sentencing hearing. I've presented your life since
escaping temporally as evidence for leniency. But the human rights
violations and the resulting war, the environmental damage done....
Many people died, sir, from many countries. I don't know that it'll
make a difference. I'm sorry, sir. I did my best."
The gavel pounds. Lang looks up at the judge. "Will the defendant remain standing," she says, demanding, not asking.
"You
have been found guilty on all counts. Because of the nature of these
crimes and the fact of your illegal temporal flight, you are sentenced
to be taken from this place to a place of execution to be carried out
immediately."
"What about my appeals?" Lang cried out.
"They
have been already denied. It's been further ordered that your life in
the past be erased from public record, including the existence of all
family and properties, by temporal adjusters. This court is adjourned."
Lang
is hustled out a side door and down an empty black corridor. He is
shoved into a chamber, black metal walls as with every other room and
hallway. Another booming amplified voice says, "Stand still on the mark
on the floor if you wish this to be painless."
He sees the 'x' on the ground, stands on it.
"Do you have any last words?" the amplified voice asks.
"Yeah,"
he answers. "It's funny. I chose the name 'David Lang' because I'd
heard of the urban legend. I guess it wasn't after all."
"It will be," he hears, before he is disintegrated.
THE END
Gary Westlake is a
two-dimensional being living in a three-dimensional world.
E-mail:
Gary
Westlake
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