The Long Remembered Thunder — Story, Setting & Ideas

From Spycraft to Strange Science

The early excerpts establish a world of government secrecy and technical jargon. Tremaine's modification of the telephone, his use of a scrambler, and references to 'hyperwave' and 'Project Officer Margrave' suggest a familiar science-fiction premise: a rogue signal disrupting a classified experiment. However, Laumer undercuts this straightforward setup with small, unsettling details. When Tremaine meets Jess, the policeman's soft voice carries 'a note of authority,' and their conversation hints at a shared past. The dialogue is terse, with characters speaking in short, functional sentences—'I want to see results,' 'You don't have to justify yourself'—that convey pressure and impatience. This efficiency in dialogue mirrors the story's pacing, where information is doled out sparingly, and the reader must piece together the nature of the threat alongside Tremaine.

The Cave and the Wounded Man

As Tremaine descends into a hidden chamber, the story shifts from bureaucratic intrigue to something more visceral. The description of the space is concrete and eerie: 'curved walls of black glass,' 'a floor of rough boards,' and a room 'shaped from a natural cave, with waterworn walls of yellow stone.' The centerpiece is a 'squat tripod' holding an apparatus of 'black metal and glass, vaguely gunlike,' aimed at a blank wall. Beside it lies Bram, an old man with a shotgun wound. The physical details—the blood-caked shirt, the black puddle, the lacerated area 'as big as Tremaine's hand'—ground the scene in bodily reality. Bram's age is noted as 'near a century,' a detail that hints at a longer timeline than the immediate plot suggests. The apparatus, called the 'Repellor,' and the 'circlet' of flat metal that Tremaine places around Bram's neck introduce a technological element that feels archaic and alien.

Shadows and Sounds

In the cave, the story's speculative core emerges through sensory phenomena. A 'thin cry' cuts the air, followed by a 'low rumble' that swells into a 'screech.' Miss Carroll recognizes these sounds from a previous night, and Tremaine suggests they might prove Bram 'wasn't as crazy as you thought.' Then, shadows move across the stone wall—'flickering, wavering'—without any visible source. Bram, injured and weak, operates the Repellor, asking Tremaine to describe what he sees. Tremaine's report is clinical: 'It looks like shadows: but what's casting them?' and later, 'The outlines are sharper. There seem to be other shapes behind the moving ones.' The language remains restrained, avoiding explanation. Bram mutters about 'radiation from the star' and a 'node' drawing close, invoking 'High Gods' in a plea. This juxtaposition of technical observation and quasi-mythic invocation creates a tension between rational investigation and something inexplicable.

Voice and Structure in the Excerpts

Laumer's prose is lean and functional, favoring action and dialogue over description. The narrative moves through short paragraphs and quick scene changes, from the hotel to the police station to the cave. This efficiency keeps the reader focused on the immediate mystery. The excerpts reveal a story that alternates between two registers: the clipped, jargon-filled exchanges of the espionage plot and the more atmospheric, almost gothic descriptions of the cave and its apparatus. The dialogue often carries subtext—Fred's threats, Tremaine's evasions, Bram's cryptic commands. Notably, the excerpts do not resolve the central question of what the transmitter or the Repellor actually do. The story's title, The Long Remembered Thunder, suggests a resonant, perhaps catastrophic event, but the text so far withholds that payoff, leaving the reader with a sense of impending revelation.

Readers approaching The Long Remembered Thunder should pay close attention to the interplay between the mundane and the strange. Laumer grounds his speculative elements in concrete, physical details—a modified telephone, a wound, a kerosene lantern—before introducing the inexplicable. The story's brevity (around 15,600 words) means that every scene and line of dialogue likely carries weight. The excerpts suggest a narrative that rewards careful reading of technical descriptions and offhand remarks, as the mystery unfolds through what characters do and say rather than through exposition.

There’s something about Tremaine in that cave with Bram and the shadow-projector—waiting, unsure if the past is speaking or the future—that reminded me of the quieter patience in The Chouans — Reading Notes. Both feel like rooms where time holds its breath. I keep returning to that feeling long after closing the book.