Hands up if you’ve ever thought of this plot for a science fiction story:
You discover an ancient device, frozen in a glacier, or embedded in fossils, or whatever. You’re amazed to find that despite its age it seems to be mostly in working order, and shows evidence of having present-day components. It must be a time machine of some kind. You repair it. Eventually you inadvertently activate it, and find yourself, with the device, back in the Pleistocene. You realize that the bones found with the device were yours….
I’m sure that I’m not the only person who read H. G. Wells, extrapolated along the lines that I just indicated, and had a chuckle about the paradoxical implications. Where did the machine come from? Could the contemporary scientist choose not to take the action that causes the machine to operate? What are the precise scientific objections to the sequence (loop?) of events? And maybe there’s a short story to be written about it.
This little speculation is the starting point for John Varley’s new book Mammoth. He adds several twists, which I’ll leave you to discover, but the basic plot is as I’ve described it. To flesh out the short story into a full length novel, Varley has used this tale as a vehicle for satire: satire of corporate capitalism, of entertainment-driven culture, of people’s willingness to be manipulated. Along the way he makes a stab at the scientific and philosophical issues of time travel and causality, but – like the culture that he is satirizing – such reflective moments are swept away by the impulse to action, preferably accompanied by special effects.
The self-causing time machine is still a good idea for a short story, preferably without the Hollywood treatment. Varley has shown us that he is one of the best writers of short science fiction working today. Unfortunately this one got away from him, like a runaway mammoth.