Shadows by John D. MacDonald

Book Details

Shadows explores themes of world destruction and the enduring quest for life. Through four poignant narratives, the author delves into the fragility of existence and the human spirit’s resilience in the face of overwhelming challenges.

Immortality (1949)
There are more universes in the cosmos than Man has dreamt of in his philosophy

Common Denominator (1951)
Advanced races generally are eager to share their knowledge with primitive ones. In this case … with Earthmen!

Like a Keepsake (1949)
“All I can say is, if this should be the world’s end, it’s a real black color…”

Shadow on the Sand (1950)
Its a case of the humanities versus alien efficiency when the emissaries of Strada get through to Earth via a trans-galactic back door!
An Isolated Vacation Spot Becomes the Focal Point in a Struggle that Spans Two Universes!
Chapter I – Mission
Chapter II – Doorway
Chapter III – Scream
Chapter IV – Truce
Chapter V – Song
Chapter VI – Jest
Chapter VII – Bluff
Chapter VIII – Explosion

John D. MacDonald (1916-1986) was one of the best crime and mystery writers of the era. His most famous creation was his series of Travis McGee books.

MacDonald was a Harvard Business School grad who joined the Army in 1940 where he was commissioned as a first lieutenant of the Army Ordnance Corps. From 1943 to 1945, he was stationed in the China-Burma-India theatre of war, first in India and later in Ceylon, now called Sri-Lanka.

After his discharge in September 1945 as a lieutenant colonel, MacDonald wrote fourteen hours a day, seven days a week, receiving rejection after rejection until he finally sold a story to the pulp magazine Dime Detective for $40. He ended up selling nearly 500 short stories to the pulp magazines in all genres: mystery, adventure, sports, Western, and science fiction.

Shadows has 9 illustrations.

Files:

1. JDMacDonald-Shadows.epub

Excerpt: Immortality

STEPHEN BRALE glanced nervously at his watch, and made one last, quick tour of inspection. He decided that the deep, native stone fireplace was the best feature of the huge stately room. It was an incredible break to get a chance to sublet the house.

He knew how pleased Jane Torin would be. Maybe her stipulation about not marrying until he had found a place for them to spend their first months was wise. Surely this beautiful home would be more than even Jane had anticipated.

“The bell rang and he hurried down the front hall to the door, swung it wide.

“Steve! It’s beautiful!” Jane Torin said, and flushed with excitement.

“Shut your eyes, honey. No cheating.”

He took her wrist and guided her in. Her long, lovely eyes were shut, her face pale and sensitive in contrast to the mass of red-gold hair.

He shut the door behind her, kissed her lightly.

“No fair!” she said.

Taking her arm he led her into the big living room, turned her about so that she would be able to see the fireplace and the huge window-seat when she opened her eyes.

“Okay, darling,” said Steve. “Take a look.”

She opened her eyes and gasped. He was looking at her face with pleased anticipation. To his surprise she turned very pale, her eyes wide. He frowned. “What on earth is the matter ?”

“Oh, Steve! It’s beautiful! But just for a moment, when I first looked at it I had the oddest feeling. It was as though you had brought me in here before and I had opened my eyes and seen this same room.”

“Did we live happily ever after?”

She put her arms around his neck and breathed, “Of course we did, darling!”

He kissed her and said, “You know, maybe that’s a good idea. Maybe we ought to go through this routine again and again. Every lifetime we have.”

She laughed. “Now you’re making fun of me!”

“Of you? Never. And the day after tomorrow I carry you over the threshold.”

…..

THEY were the Seven.

Incredibly aged, they reclined in a circle on soft couches in a subterranean room far under the tough vitrified skin of the Planet Earth Eighty.

Far above them the tough crust of the planet neared absolute zero. For five thousand years there had been no atmosphere and hence no winds. The dimming sun shone with constantly decreasing warmth.”

“Beyond the small room where the Seven reclined there was the hum and pulse of power. The soft light that bathed the room gave them their nourishment. Enfeebled by the silent years, they brooded.

The oldest among them was the Leader— forbidden by Law to do other than summarize the arguments of the others. Their huge, naked, hairless skulls gleamed in the soft light. There was no sound in the room. And yet there were words among them. Words expressed in shafts of pure thought— clearer and more shining than words had ever been. For so many hundreds of thousands of years had speech been outmoded that the organs of speech had atrophied.

The soundless discussion had been going on for five years. It was a discussion that deserved proper analysis. It was a discussion that would determine the future of mankind. Though they were old and feeble of body, their minds were the greatest instruments in the millions of years of recorded history.

“We are Man. We have fought through countless millions of years, migrating to green worlds when old ones perished. There are no more green worlds. Our universe fades and dies. Let this then, be the end. Let us, the last Seven of mankind, perish here, considering the deeds of our race, the worlds made and destroyed, the universe plumbed to the outermost edges of eternal darkness. Let this be the end.”

Thus was the philosophy of three of the Seven expressed. A philosophy of resignation, of weariness beyond measure.

“Man does not have to perish. Near the fingers of the Leader is the switch that, once thrown, will make worlds green again, make mankind young again. We have looked into the future, my brothers. We know that there is nothing there but death. We have looked into the past and we know that it cannot be changed or altered in the slightest degree. We have the power. We are prepared. Why should we perish?”

Once the peril was known, all the genius of the race for the past ten thousand years had been concentrated on finding a mode of escape from the eventual extinction. As the universe had faded, so had faded the pro-creative and regenerative powers of the race. Only the Seven were left. But before the others had died, there had been constructed, on the surface of Earth Eighty, the greatest power source in recorded history. Drawing as it did on the orbital fury of the dead planets, the surviving thunder of the suns, it would concentrate, at the flick of the switch at the Leader’s side, all of the remaining kinetic energy of the dying universe.

IT  WAS whether or not this energy was to be used, that was the source of the argument.

“It is known that we cannot step backward in time as independent entities. To do so would be to disturb the probability stream, leading to the mistaken concept of tangential worlds. On this same basis, an entire planet, or even an entire section of the universe cannot step backward in time. The universe must be returned as a unit, because the whole is the smallest fraction that can be shifted in the time stream without altering in any way the probabilities involved. I say that it must be done.”

The room was silent, each of the Seven concerned with his own thoughts.

“But it is the ultimate horror. It means that all of life and all of existence will be caught up in an enclosed circle with no exit. Should we decide that the switch is to he pressed by the Leader, the universe we know will be returned through time to the earliest days of unrecorded history, the tropic days of eons ago when man was a hairy creature who fought mammoths with stone axes. Through the millions of years the probabilities will remain unaltered.

Excerpt From: John D. MacDonald. “Shadows.”