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The Tunnel Under The World
The Tunnel Under The World
The Tunnel Under The World
Ebook57 pages44 minutes

The Tunnel Under The World

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Guy Burckhardt wakes up screaming, but can't remember the nightmare that caused his fright. Slowly over the next couple of days he comes to realize he's been reliving the same day over and over. And things only get stranger and more frightening from there. One of the true classics of science fiction.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 10, 2016
ISBN9781682999615
Author

Frederik Pohl

Frederik Pohl (1919-2013) was one of science fiction's most important authors. Among his many novels are Gateway, which won the John W. Campbell Memorial Award, the Hugo Award, the Locus SF Award, and the Nebula Award, Beyond the Blue Event Horizon, which was a finalist for the Hugo and Nebula Awards, and Jem, which won the 1980 National Book Award in Science Fiction. He also collaborated on classic science fiction novels including The Space Merchants with Cyril M. Kornbluth. Pohl was an award-winning editor of Galaxy and If, a book editor at Bantam, and served as president of the Science Fiction Writers of America. He was named a Grand Master of Science Fiction by SFWA in 1993, and was inducted into the Science Fiction and Fantasy Hall of Fame.

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  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Thanks to subsequent works such as the movie "Dark City", Charles Beaumont's "In His Image", Philip K. Dick's "Ubik", and Harlan Ellison's "I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream", this 1954 story is not totally unpredictable, but still has a timely punch and its own personality. Could also be seen as "Groundhog Day" gone very bad.I enjoyed reading the still-sharp nonagenarian author's blog until his death in 2013.

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The Tunnel Under The World - Frederik Pohl

The Tunnel Under The World

by Frederik Pohl

Start Publishing LLC

Copyright © 2015 by Start Publishing LLC

Cover image © .Martin.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

First Start Publishing eBook edition July 2015

Start Publishing is a registered trademark of Start Publishing LLC

Manufactured in the United States of America

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

ISBN 13: 978-1-68299-961-5

Table of Contents

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

I

On the morning of June 15th, Guy Burckhardt woke up screaming out of a dream.

It was more real than any dream he had ever had in his life. He could still hear and feel the sharp, ripping-metal explosion, the violent heave that had tossed him furiously out of bed, the searing wave of heat.

He sat up convulsively and stared, not believing what he saw, at the quiet room and the bright sunlight coming in the window.

He croaked, Mary?

His wife was not in the bed next to him. The covers were tumbled and awry, as though she had just left it, and the memory of the dream was so strong that instinctively he found himself searching the floor to see if the dream explosion had thrown her down.

But she wasn’t there. Of course she wasn’t, he told himself, looking at the familiar vanity and slipper chair, the uncracked window, the unbuckled wall. It had only been a dream.

Guy? His wife was calling him querulously from the foot of the stairs. Guy, dear, are you all right?

He called weakly, Sure.

There was a pause. Then Mary said doubtfully, Breakfast is ready. Are you sure you’re all right? I thought I heard you yelling—

Burckhardt said more confidently, I had a bad dream, honey. Be right down.

*

In the shower, punching the lukewarm-and-cologne he favored, he told himself that it had been a beaut of a dream. Still, bad dreams weren’t unusual, especially bad dreams about explosions. In the past thirty years of H-bomb jitters, who had not dreamed of explosions?

Even Mary had dreamed of them, it turned out, for he started to tell her about the dream, but she cut him off. "You did? Her voice was astonished. Why, dear, I dreamed the same thing! Well, almost the same thing. I didn’t actuallyhear anything. I dreamed that something woke me up, and then there was a sort of quick bang, and then something hit me on the head. And that was all. Was yours like that?"

Burckhardt coughed. Well, no, he said. Mary was not one of these strong-as-a-man, brave-as-a-tiger women. It was not necessary, he thought, to tell her all the little details of the dream that made it seem so real. No need to mention the splintered ribs, and the salt bubble in his throat, and the agonized knowledge that this was death. He said, Maybe there really was some kind of explosion downtown. Maybe we heard it and it started us dreaming.

Mary reached over and patted his hand absently. Maybe, she agreed. It’s almost half-past eight, dear. Shouldn’t you hurry? You don’t want to be late to the office.

He gulped his food, kissed her and rushed out—not so much to be

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