Sunday 20 November 2016

Chapter 01 - Out of Time

Anyone who's missed the intro so far, can check it out here;

Observations - Part 1
Observations - Part 2
Observations - Part 3

This puts us at the start of the story proper, where the synopsis pretty much takes over.

Stranded in Earth's far future by the time machine known as the Kairosille Observatory, a collection of civilians and soldiers pursue a group led by the Fraser Bennett (the original designer of that machine), through the time they call Dawn Four, whilst greedy nations set their eyes upon both.

Also, I should just point out that the word Minevra is not a mis-spelling of Minerva. The pronunciation is min-A-vra. A sound as in Hay.

The pronunciation of Okikate is Ock-e-car-tay.

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01 – Out of Time



‘Remind me, please, of my tolerance for wake-up calls at this hour?’

‘Apologies, Deputy Chief Enforcer, but I have something you’re going to want to see.’

‘This had better be good. Well, what is it?’

‘It’s all in this data pad, ma’am.’

‘You’re sure of this? There’s no response at all?’

‘Quite sure, ma’am. The calculations are fine. I’ve checked everything at this end. I’ve even got a team at Oceanade out to inspect the landlines, but they’re fine. We are getting no readings at all.’

‘So, we’re blind?

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Now, I’m sure you also know never to bring problems to me unless you have the solution?’

‘Well, on that front ma’am, I have good news.’


Alexander Harvey didn’t know what it was that woke him, but the pitter-patter of rain and the ache in his chest probably had something to do with it. He blinked hard, but the world was all outlines of black on shadowed sky. Memories came back to him – the Temporal Chamber, the stun beam – and he tried to sit, but the world swayed like a boat on the storm swell. Flailing in the semi-darkness, his hands happened upon a rock, and he gripped this one stable point in the world for all his worth. He took deep, calming breaths, trying to settle his stomach.

Minutes ticked by, he guessed; little fingers of red and gold streaked through the sky, breaking from behind a mountain far to the east, and he watched the sunrise sweep over green dales and silvery rivers. The light caught in his eyelashes like diamonds.

His squad and the others – that brother and sister, and the operatives, Amy and Stephanie – lay in the dust like boughs struck down in a storm. None were stirring, and he knew he couldn’t risk standing yet. He stared around again. The sunrise peaks steered north-westwards towards the mountains in whose shadow their clearing lay. A bank of cloud rolled up towards a cleft in the range, their peaks lost in the mist. Faint shadows stained the grey.

He wondered where he was. He wondered where Fraser was. He wondered if he felt up to standing yet, but his legs told him he did not. Footprints ringed the bodies, trodden over each other in haste, disappearing down the track towards the north. Their bags and weapons were gone.

Someone else began to move.

‘Don’t sit up too quickly, Mr Goddard,’ Alex advised. ‘Take my word for it.’

Flat on his back, Goddard stared at the sky and nodded. As he slowly propped himself up, Alex saw him count the fallen bodies in the clearing.

‘Fraser Bennett?’

‘Has already departed,’ Alex replied. ‘North. All of them, including that girl. With all of our kit as well.’

‘I wonder who she was,’ Goddard said after a moment.



Others woke; Jon stood, holding his hip. He lifted Rachel to her feet and she swayed as he released her.

‘Where are we?’ she asked, then changed her mind. ‘When are we?’

But Stephanie was already dashing across the clearing at the sound of commotion. Jon and Rachel turned quickly to see Amy writhing on the bare earth. Stephanie and the Squad Leader rolled Amy onto her side.

‘TDN,’ Stephanie muttered angrily. ‘Amy, focus on me.’

Rachel dropped down to help. ‘What’s wrong with her?’ but Stephanie did not reply. Amy did, though, vomiting all over the ground.

‘Temporal Displacement Nausea,’ the Squad Deputy said, joining the huddle. ‘You don’t often see it.’

‘What’s that?’ Jon asked.

‘It means we’ve moved our location as well as moving through time. A big distance, judging by the state she’s in.’ Amy propped herself up, and Stephanie glanced at Rachel. ‘And you’re first question is as relevant as the second,’ she said, letting Amy go. The remaining squad members were on their feet now, joining the gathering.

‘I don’t understand,’ Rachel replied. Amy spat the taste of sick away.

‘You moved time, but stayed at the Kairosille Observatory – same latitude and longitude,’ Stephanie explained, and she stared around at the mountains and dales. ‘We must have moved hundreds of miles…’

They helped Amy stand, Stephanie on one side and the Deputy on the other. She was breathing more easily now. The blonde squad member stepped forward. ‘How long, Aims?’

She fiddled with her chrome watch, the display burned brightly, then faded away. Seconds ticked by in silence and the longer it went on, the more concerned Stephanie’s expression became.

‘Okay,’ Amy said eventually, ‘I’ve got a pos. It’s working on the displacement calculation now. Latitude forty-nine point two degrees north by longitude one hundred and twenty-three point one degrees west.’

Stephanie scratched her head but the youngest squad member, the dark haired, shy man, answered, speaking his words to the dales beyond. ‘Over a thousand miles due west-south-west of Terdanis.’

They waited minutes for the next part. Jon and Rachel started getting restless, staring around and exhaling nosily through their noses. The Squad Leader appraised them, the Deputy narrowed his eyes, and Rachel squared her shoulders. Jon whispered something to her, and she looked away.

The watch beeped, Amy stared at the answer, closed her eyes, and pressed a button on the display. A synthesised voice read the answer she could not bring herself to.

‘Variance between current temporal co-ordinates and Temporal Beacon as follows; two hundred and nineteen thousand, eight hundred and thirty three standard solar intervals. Exact date by local calendar, twenty sixth day of October, Saturday, year; twenty-one fifty-one. Time; oh six fifty-six hours.’

‘How long?’ someone asked in a hush.

‘Two hundred thousand years?’

Stephanie sat on the nearest rock, resting her head in her hands. ‘Dawn Four…’ she muttered. ‘Why did he bring us here?’

‘No idea,’ Amy added. She was still shivering from the nausea. ‘And where is here?’

Jon stepped forward. ‘But who is he? Who is this Fraser?’ His voice was strained. ‘And all those others? And how did he just appear like that? And Dawn Four? There’s more after… after us? Why didn’t you say that before?’

‘One question at a time,’ Amy pleaded. ‘Fraser is… was one of the Observatory’s founders.’

‘He was the first Director of Observations,’ Stephanie added.

‘But not now?’

‘No, he’s spent the last six years in a Calming House.’ Jon and Rachel both looked confused, so Amy clarified. ‘It’s a place where the mentally ill go.’

‘Oh,’ they both replied.

‘Who was he with?’ the Squad Leader asked. ‘From the House as well? And we would’ve heard if he was out. He must have escaped.’

‘Where are they now?’ the tallest squad member asked.

‘North,’ the Squad Leader said, and they turned to look where he pointed, gasping at the sight before them.

The cloud bank was rolling back, slipping away through the cleft, revealing a mighty city. Elegant buildings filled the slopes, sparkling as the sun caught their wet walls. Skyscrapers jostled for position on the central plateau and some of them were very tall. One in particular was reason enough for their astonishment. Rising on and on, taller even than the mountains, this one spire soared upwards, cylindrical, yet woven all about the exterior with tier upon tier of arcades. Many windows glittered in the spaces beneath each arch. Thousands of them. Thousands upon thousands.

Large steel arms stuck out from the core, supporting a series of platforms more than a mile above the ground, and each was a city in their own right, packed full of towers. Some towers even sprouted from the lower surfaces, so that one hundred storey buildings hung in mid-air.

Above, the vast tower vanished into the clouds once more.

‘Well, that helps,’ Stephanie sighed. ‘I know exactly where we are now.’

‘Where?’ the blonde Squad man asked.

‘You don’t sound very happy about it,’ Rachel observed, folding her arms.

‘Yutengard,’ she said, articulating the consonants clearly. ‘Capital city of the Continuity Republic of Minevra-Okikate,’ she shrugged. ‘Stupid name, I know. And I’m not very happy about it. Minevra have a… reputation.’

Amy’s watch beeped again, which tore their collective gaze from the tower at last. She scanned quickly over what the display told her, then looked up.

‘I can’t connect to the Observatory.’

‘What?’ Stephanie strode forward, pulling her own sleeve back. ‘You’re right…’ The squad checked their own as well. ‘Not even a local connection.’

Jon narrowed his eyes. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ No longer distracted by the city, his head was starting to swirl with questions. And he needed straight answers.

‘It means we can’t go anywhere until we get that Remote Terminal back and deactivate whatever block Fraser has put in place,’ Amy replied, gloomily. ‘We can’t signal for rescue. We can’t even send a message back to Dawn Two, and they can’t come to us.’

‘You got a signal a minute ago,’ Rachel objected.

‘Temporal Beacon,’ Amy answered. ‘Not the same thing.’ Rachel huffed.

‘He’s trapped us here, hasn’t he?’ the tall man said.

‘He has,’ Stephanie sighed.

‘Trapped?’ Rachel demanded hotly.

‘The Remote Terminal,’ Stephanie explained. ‘That device Fraser had with him. He’s locked our way out of here.’

‘Well, that’s that,’ the Squad Leader said.

‘Well, we can’t stay here,’ Rachel said tartly.

The Squad Deputy fixed her with a raised eyebrow. ‘Did you not understand? Unless we catch up with that bloody man, we are stuck here.’

‘Forever,’ the tall one added.

What?!’ she bellowed. Startled birds scattered from their roosts.

‘Rache, please,’ Jon tried, but her fury, stoked hot by the incredibility of the last few hours, exploded.

At first, they stared at her in bemusement, and Jon just looked embarrassed, but then she started the fight. She lunged for the smirking Deputy, but his reflexes were too sharp, parrying her away and she staggered. Jon raised his fist, but the tall squad member intercepted his swing.

Picking herself up, Rachel spat and charged the Deputy.

‘Stop! Stop!’ Stephanie pleaded, raising her arms, but the impact of Rachel and the Deputy toppled them both, and Stephanie fell backwards out of the way, crashing into thick undergrowth.

But instead of emerging at once, she vanished completely, leaving a break in the foliage. The fight ended abruptly and they dashed over to peer down the previously hidden slope.

About ten feet below them, dusty and angry, lay Stephanie. Beside her, and Stephanie only saw him as she picked herself up, promptly backing away, was a man, his face pale and fearful. A hole was oozing just below his heart. Close-cropped hair, a high collar, the black boots; Jon wondered if he was a soldier, though he had no weapon.

‘Who are you?’ he managed to ask. His voice was hoarse.

Amy immediately slid down into the hollow, dropping to her knees beside the man. ‘You’re wounded. You need help.’

The rest followed one by one. The Deputy offered help to Rachel without thinking, and she slapped his hand away. ‘Get off me!’ she snapped.

‘Where’s my bag?’ Amy asked, looking up at the top where the Squad Leader still stood.

‘Gone,’ he replied and Amy looked stricken. Stephanie crouched down beside the man.

‘Who did this to you?’ she asked softly, clasping his hand.

The soldier struggled to explain; his breath was ragged and his voice weak. He was on patrol, and this clearing was on his route. There were voices ahead. Five, maybe more. He skirted around for a better look. A tall, thickset man carried a red-headed girl in one arm.

‘Did any of them speak to you?’ Stephanie asked. ‘Did you overhear anything?’

‘Only things he did not understand. ‘Dawn Four… I heard that a lot. What is it?’ His breathing grew laboured.

‘Haven’t we got any water?’ Amy asked imploringly, but the Squad Leader shook his head.

The man spoke only once more to say that, after overpowering him, the strange group set off for the north.

The rise and fall of his chest slowed, then ceased altogether. His blue eyes stared straight up, fixed on the sky he had probably seen almost every day of his life. Stephanie brushed them shut, then stood and Amy did too. The whole gully was silent.



It was an odd feeling, giving a funeral to a complete stranger. Jon and Rachel felt shell shocked. The dead were only seen on the news, and then never up close. Two of the squad turned to leave.

‘A-Are we just going to leave him?’ Jon asked nervously. The Squad Leader looked from Jon to the body, then he and the tallest man set about gathering rocks from above, passing them down in a chain until he was covered. The Deputy riffled through the man’s pockets.

‘What?’ he asked, meeting Amy’s disapproving gaze levelly. ‘It’s only Dawn One that never bothered with money, right?’ and he removed the notes from the wallet. Amy shrugged reluctantly as the group left, then placed the soldier’s insignia on the finished cairn. She jogged to catch up with Rachel, who was lagging at the back with a face like thunder.

Jon spoke to the Deputy in a low voice. ‘Look, I’m sorry about all that, uh,’ he began, then confessed, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.’

‘It’s Russell,’ he replied, holding out his hand to Jon and they shook. ‘Russell Goddard. Remind me to keep a safe distance from your sister.’

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Thursday 10 November 2016

Observations - Part 3



Final part of the intro. I know...who takes nearly 7,500 words on just the intro?

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Stephanie leapt to her feet. ‘Oh, Professor, I’m sorry.’ Jon and Rachel looked around to see a tall man emerging from a small cluster of offices that stood across the north side of the wide deck. He wore a grey tweed suit, unbuttoned to reveal a lime green waistcoat. Though the clothes were clearly ancient, the man himself looked very well cared of, with smooth cheeks, bright eyes, and dark, neat hair.

‘No matter, not at all,’ he said, striding quickly over, arms outstretched in welcome. Looming over Jon and Rachel, he shook their hands genially. ‘Nicholas Farnisay. Charmed. Call me Nick,’ and he winked at Rachel.

‘Uh, nice to meet you,’ Jon murmured, taken off guard by this arrival. The Professor settled himself in the recliner between siblings and Stephanie and Amy.

‘Now, I expect Miss Bisham and Miss Rayford have brought you two young people nicely up to speed?’

‘Well, we’d just –’ Amy began, but Rachel overrode her.

‘You expect? This is all bullshit! What the hell are we doing here? We just want to go home!’

‘You are Rachel Louisa Sinclair, yes?’ Nick asked, leaning forward, hands raised out in front, finger tips pressed together. ‘Daughter of Iain and Rosalind Sinclair? Sixteen years of age, born on the 15th of July, one thousand nine-hundred and eighty-eight? Born in and resident of –’

‘Alright, we get the idea,’ Jon snapped, voice rising at last.

‘I mean no disrespect, Jonathan,’ the Professor countered gently, and he grimaced at the sound of his full name. ‘I do not recite these facts to intimidate, but we do know rather a lot about you both. We knew exactly where you would be on the 4th August, 2004. In the right place to give you aid and ask for your help.’

‘Ask?!’ Rachel exploded. ‘You’ve fucking well kidnapped us!’

‘Would you consider these to be the sort of surroundings we would hold someone we wished to abduct?’ Nicholas asked serenely, but he soon went on at the sight of her fury. ‘No, of course, I take your point. This must be disorientating.’

‘And you will be going home,’ Amy put in. All faces turned to her. ‘I meant it when I said we need your help.’

‘Help?’ Rachel exclaimed derisively. ‘Help with what? With that?!’ and she pointed to the inactive tablet. The faces that stared back at her were nodding earnestly. She turned to her brother, but his face was difficult to read.

‘Did you make sure we got lost on the island?’ Jon demanded suddenly. Amy and Stephanie both went to answer at the same time, but Nicholas beat them to it.

‘No, we did not. It just happened and we saw you would both be there on the date we needed. And we do need your help. Just as you need our help. We need each other. Preventing that war… that end. That is what we need your help for.’

Jon would have interrupted again, but the lift door chimed and five men stepped out onto the deck.

‘We’re taking you home tonight,’ Stephanie assure them, and there was such an intensity to her face that they found it difficult to look away. ‘All we ask is a few weeks of your time when we get there. And when its done…’ and she glanced back at the city to the south, ‘we will have no more to ask of you.’

Nicholas Farnisay got to his feet and strode over to greet the newcomers. ‘Square Leader Harvey,’ and he shook the first man’s hand. ‘Your team is prepared?’

‘As ever, Professor,’ Squad Leader Harvey replied, his voice as colourless as his clothes, and his face remained expressionless as he noted Jon and Rachel’s presence.

‘Excellent. Shall I make the introductions?’ and he indicated each of the men to the siblings in turn; in addition to the Squad Leader, there was his deputy, a man called Goddard, whom Rachel thought looked much more friendly than his boss. His hair was short, black, and wiry, and he seemed at ease, whereas the Squad Leader looked rigid. Beside him, and towering over the Deputy, was Squad Front Line Marlett, taller even than Jon and built like a lock, though without the cauliflower ear. Muscles bulged beneath his black skin and his hair was very closely cropped. Next was a twitchy, blonde haired man with a barrel chest and sparkling blue eyes, introduced as Squad Specialist Kelly. The last seemed barely out of his teens, all dark hair and eyes – and short with it – and he radiated a palpable sense of uncertainty and shyness. He hardly made eye contact with anyone, and tugged at the zips of his fleece pockets. It was too hot for a fleece. He was announced as Squad Ranger Brooks.


Nicholas made his farewells; other engagements demanded his time, and the nine of them were left together on the Observation Deck.

‘Right, Alex,’ Amy said brightly, though Jon thought there was something forced in her voice. ‘You and your team get the pleasure of my company for the briefing.’ They departed with Jon and Rachel looking on. The twitchy man with the thatched head gave Amy a glowing smile and the Deputy, whose name they had already forgotten, gazed back at the siblings. The door to the small office closed and silence fell.

‘What are those guys here for?’ Jon asked eventually. Rachel’s brows contracted as she looked back. She had been craning her neck to peer through the windows.

‘They’re a bit of everything, really,’ Stephanie explained breezily. ‘Security, investigation, heavy lifting. But there’s something the two of you can help me with, if you don’t mind?’

‘Uh, I guess…’ Rachel agreed. The assurance that they would be going home soon had calmed her, for now. ‘What with?’

‘Need to get you both equipped down at the Inventory.’ They followed Stephanie back down the lift, descending three floors, emerging into a corridor busy with the bustle of work. People dashed by, occasionally sparing Stephanie a ‘Hello, Steph,’ or else looking with interest at Jon and Rachel, making the pair feel like they were under a very bright spotlight.

After swiping her pass card in a lock, Stephanie led them into a long room lined with shelves and racks, hung thing with rucksacks, cases, clothes of all kinds, boots, shoes, climbing equipment, packs of tents and every variety of camping paraphernalia and, behind a locked gate at the far end, a section devoted to portable weaponry of every conceivable kind.

‘Bloody hell,’ Jon gasped.

‘It took some putting together!’ Stephanie agreed. ‘Will you help me look for some bits and pieces?’ Jon and Rachel walked the aisles, whilst Stephanie directed them shelf references, instructing them to insert the authorisation tags that released the locking mechanisms. They stared with fascination at strange objects stored next to the items they were retrieving, but everything on their lists bore brand names they recognised.

‘How did you get all of this?’ Jon asked. Stephanie smiled, holding up a wad of coloured notes, some of which they recognised as British. ‘Hey, now we’re talking.’

‘Strictly for operational purposes,’ Stephanie laughed. ‘Don’t worry. Everything here is paid for in some time or another. We, almost all of it,’ and she nodded at the locked cage. Rachel gazed wide eyed at the myriad guns, the belts of jacketed ammunition, and wire baskets filled with grenades.

An hour and a half later, they were surrounded by piles of assorted equipment and several empty rucksacks. As she packed, Stephanie told them all about the time machine called the Kairosille Observatory; about Nicholas, about the various squads, about field missions and, as the siblings listened, they felt more at ease. Stephanie took one last sweep, selecting a few items of clothing, which she folded into her own pack, then glanced up at the clock.

‘It’s about time we got up to the Temporal Chamber,’ she said, hoisting the bag. ‘They’ll be finished with the initialisation soon.’

‘Is that the place with the blue light?’ Rachel asked tentatively.

‘It is. The rest will meet us there.’

‘Are we going to go back to exactly the same point?’ Jon wondered.

‘About a month earlier, actually,’ Stephanie said matter-of-factly, leading the way out. From the glass elevator they could see the sunset throwing fingers of orange across the pastures.

‘Why a month?’ he asked.

‘Well, 5th August is when it happens,’ Stephanie said, leaning against the polished wooden hand rail. ‘We need to leave enough time for the mission. Couldn’t prevent something like that in just a few hours.’

Rachel wanted to know more. ‘And why do you need us?’

‘Well, we’re pretty good at blending in, but it’s so much easier when there are what we call complicit natives around.’ Jon raised an eyebrow. ‘I mean we’ve all done our research – and Amy’s an expert on Dawn Three – but we might say things in passing that mark us as outsiders. The wrong people can take interest in things like that.’

The lift came to a halt and the glass doors parted. The room had barely changed, except that a number of the chairs were occupied.

‘Have a seat,’ Stephanie offered, and they did – the very pair they had sat in previously. Stephanie left to talk to one of the technicians, leaving the siblings with their thoughts. He was normally slow to trust, but Jon was at a loss to explain why he felt this must all be true. And they were going back a month early? Surely that would prove it to Rachel. But the task – stopping a war he had not yet lived through – seemed insurmountable.

Stephanie returned with a small box. ‘I believe these are yours,’ and she held out the box to them. It contained their wallets, phones, and a few other bits of detritus; hotel room key, boat ticket stub, coffee shop receipt. Flipping open his phone, he saw there was no signal. Rachel raised her wallet to her nose before pocketing it, and Jon smiled to himself.

‘Is it going to be as bad as last time?’ Jon asked, and Stephanie shook her head.

‘Oh, no,’ she assured them. ‘Sequence sixteen includes a tranquilising agent to make it easier on first timers.’

‘Didn’t seem very easy,’ Rachel muttered.

The doors slid open again and the five men entered, along with Amy.

The head tech walked over. ‘It’s all keyed in, Steph.’ His colleagues made for the lift. ‘Give us five minutes to get the Observatory locked down, and then she’s all yours.’

‘Thanks, Steve. See you in a few weeks.’

‘No, it’ll be sooner than that,’ Steve grinned, and she shared the joke with a warm laugh.

‘Ready to fire her up, Aims?’ Stephanie offered, and Amy nodded, taking a seat next to Jon. He noted she had exchanged the jumper with the band logo for something more circumspect, but if blending in was their objective, Amy did a spectacular job of standing out.

She pressed a finger to the logo; Kairosille Observatory, Touch to Begin.

‘Initiate sequence zero-one. Authorisation Rayford two-two-alpha-echo-romeo.’

‘Processing,’ her own voice replied from the hidden speakers.

‘It’s always so weird,’ she muttered. The blonde squad member grinned broadly.

‘Why is your voice?’ Rachel asked.

‘Joke of Nicks',’ Stephanie laughed. ‘Plays it on all the junior ops agents. I hated what he did with mine.’

‘Made her sound like a tart,’ Amy confided in an undertone and she winked at her stony-faced colleague. Amy gave the computer more instructions when prompted, inputting something called the time index.

‘Where is your Professor?’ Jon asked.

‘The procedure creates a high radiation field,’ the Squad Leader said. ‘All non-essential staff evacuate prior to transmission.’

‘There’s no-one in the building except us?’ Jon checked, and the man nodded. ‘Wait, radiation?’

‘Okay,’ Amy said. ‘We’re all set.’

‘Ready,’ the Squad Leader agreed, and Jon’s last question went unanswered.

‘Enable,’ Amy commanded. Jon and Rachel tensed.

Several things happened in the split second that followed; the cone shaped frames in the middle of the room began to work again; screens erupted in a barrage of calculations and diagrams; and the chamber throbbed with noise.

But in an instant, there was a loud crack, the deep hum in the floor stuttered, and all the lights went out.

Stephanie swore. A short, uncomfortable silence followed.

‘Power failure?’ one of the Squad asked.

‘If it is,’ remarked another, ‘it’s a lousy time.’ By the twilight coming through the glass doors, Rachel saw the one with wiry black hair trying to pry them apart.

‘The doors are out, too,’ he added, then grunted. ‘Can’t even force them.’

Then, the power returned, and all the monitors blinked on.

Stephanie sighed with relief. ‘Oh, good. Just a glitch. Computer: resume.’

‘The instruction was not recognised.’

‘Bloody thing,’ Amy cursed. ‘Computer, resume sequence zero-one, authorisation Rayford two-two-alpha-echo-romeo.’

‘The instruction was not recognised.’

‘What’s up with it?’ Stephanie exclaimed exasperatedly.

The man by the lift moved over to them. ‘Do we need to reset? Shall I get down to the reactor?’

Amy objected, shaking her head. ‘It’ll take four hours to rebuild the calculations, at least. I don’t want to resort to that just yet. Computer! Resume sequence zero-one!’

‘The instruction was not recognised.’

Jon and Rachel exchanged a worried glance.

‘Computer, what is the current operational status of the Observatory?’ Stephanie asked impatiently.

‘The instruction was not recognised.’

But before anyone could do anything else, the blue light Jon and Rachel recognised from their first visit to the Temporal Chamber, filled the room completely. The pressure peaked and they staggered, rocking back on their heels.

When they unshielded their eyes, they found a number of armed, dishevelled strangers standing between the group and the door. The weaponry looked like it came from the locked cage downstairs.

‘Who are you?’ the Squad Leader demanded, starting forward, but one of the newcomers fired; a thin orange beam thumped into his chest, and the Squad Leader fell sprawled on the floor.

‘Don’t bother getting up?’ said the man who had fired. His voice was hungry and ragged. ‘There’s higher settings if you want it. I don’t mind showing you.’ A leer twisted what might have once been a handsome face.

Suddenly, a voice burst out from the middle of the strangers. A female voice. A young voice.

‘Lemme go! Lemme go!’

The group of men and women parted and a heavy set man with lank black hair came through, carrying a girl in her early teens. One thick arm around her waist, she was dangling clear off the floor, kicking furiously. At the sight of the room around her, face full of fear, she sank her teeth into her captor’s arm. He gave no sign of pain, nor did he release her, but their eyes met and the teenager’s bottom lip began to tremble.

‘Sedate her,’ said a voice from the back. Jon saw both Amy and Stephanie look up sharply at the sound, but then he was distracted by the sight of the captor jabbing a small cylinder into the girl’s neck, and she fell limp in his arm. Now Jon looked properly, the blue light had not faded completely. Pieces of the air seemed to be tainted, turned visible, drifting lazily in the still air of the chamber.

The voice from the back spoke again, and a tall man stepped forward. ‘Well, now. Nice to be back here again.’ Amy gasped as stepped into the light. ‘Kind of you to keep my life’s work in such good order,’ he continued. His hair was tugged back in a loose pony tail. His old great coat nearly reached the floor, its hem ragged and caked with mud. The old stubble on his chin and cheeks gave his skin a dead pallor, and his grey eyes shone out from his sunken face.

‘What are you doing here, Fraser?’ Amy demanded, pushing her way forward. The blonde man and Stephanie both laid restraining hands on her as she reached the front.

The man called Fraser spread his arms wide, taking in the chamber with a wistful expression. ‘I’m here to travel,’ he declared. ‘Why else? And you being here is such a stroke of luck, Miss Rayford.’ He was stood right in front of her. She recoiled from his breath,

‘Computer, resume sequence zero-one, authorisation Rayford two-two-alpha-echo-romeo.’

But Fraser was laughing. ‘Voice commands disabled. Remote scan and retrieval disabled. All Observatory functions at my command.’ He held a small pad device aloft and Amy’s face fell. Fraser turned on his heel. ‘Time to go, comrades. Time to make a stand,’ and the dishevelled imposters opened fire.


As Jon collapsed, he felt a curious sensation in his chest, spreading through him and paralysing his muscles. There was the sound of orders, but he couldn’t make sense of them. People walked back and forth. Then he fell into a light sleep, only vaguely aware of the activity around him.


Amy Rayford felt the familiar tug at the top of her spine and knew what was coming. Her head was turned to one side, her eyes locked open. The clumps of blue-white air were trembling, alive to the energy. She watched the bright pulse shoot down Rachel’s back, saw the incandescent glow of the nerves beneath her skin; then, the rapid compression to particles and the chaotic motion as they disassociated from each other, flying their own paths into the glowing trunk of blue neon.

As the last vestiges of Rachel’s outline faded away, the network fell in upon itself, then burst upwards in a shower of short lived fireflies.

Amy braced herself for it. She was no stranger to the transmission, but it wasn’t comfortable; totally aware and totally disorientated.

Her body came apart. It was enough to make anyone sick, except she had no idea where her stomach atoms were. Her senses ceased and her pieces took flight.

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Thursday 3 November 2016

Observations - Part 2

Here's the next chunk.

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‘Can you hear me? Are you with us?’

He wasn’t sure. The voice mumbled something – he couldn’t make it out.

‘You’re safe with us here in Dawn Two.’

He had no idea what that meant. He wasn’t sure he felt safe, either. There were more voices now, but the sounds overlapped in a haze of vowels.


A face swayed over her blurred vision, rolling in and out of focus. White light washed out the details. She saw the lips move but couldn’t read them. Or perhaps she could, but her brain was working so slowly the meaning was lost before she recognised the shapes. The air vibrated with soundless words. Before she could take in much more than straw coloured hair, green eyes, and a white collar beneath the purple pullover, the face blurred, the light dimmed, and she was alone again.


The voice was speaking again. ‘Hello. I hope you can hear me. You’ve not been very well, but we’re looking after you.’

He trusted the voice. He hadn’t been feeling well, not at all. Not for ages. Why was that?

‘I hope the pain is better? We had lots to fix,’ and the voice went through the list of repairs – cheek, stomach, thigh, a new front tooth, a broken arm and rib, another two cracked – but he thought the voice was describing injuries to someone else, because the sort of unwell he felt didn’t match anything the voice had just mentioned. ‘Oh, and you probably feel like you’ve been taken apart and put back together.’

Yes! That was it, and his limbs agreed. His eyes relaxed, opening for the first time and his other reflexes took over, forcing his mouth wide for a deep, loud breath.

‘With us at last, Mr Sinclair?’ The voice was clear now, a woman’s, and close at hand.

With what seemed like a hug effort, Jon sat up and looked around. A young woman sat cross-legged on a chair beside his bed. Her black hair was fastened in a long pony tail, made longer still by the way she held her head to one side. Her hands were clasped around her raised knee and her dangling foot jiggled lazily. Bright hazel eyes appraised him from her slightly pointed face and her lips were a little proud. She wore a blue short-sleeve blouse trimmed in silver, black trousers, and black boots. She stood, unfolding elegantly from the chair, and walked towards him.

He turned, hanging his legs over the edge.

‘Oh, wait. Don’t stand too –!’ but he was already falling. She stepped quickly in and caught him as he toppled. ‘Easy there. Come on. Just sit for a few more minutes.’ She was stronger than she looked and helped him back up onto the bed.

She took a pace away and looked attentively at him. He stared right back, and the seconds dragged by. She did not choose to break the silence.

‘Who are you?’ he asked eventually, though he thought it should have been a lower priority question than, for instance, ‘Where am I?’, ‘Where’s my sister?’, and ‘What the hell is going on?’

‘I’m Stephanie Bisham,’ she said, extending a hand, which Jon took and shook. ‘Pleasure to make your acquaintance.’ He remembered how he had wanted to check how everything in the strange chamber felt, and was glad that Stephanie’s hand felt real. It felt right. ‘Shall we start by getting some of your questions out the way?’ she smiled warmly.

Jon looked back, feeling anxious, but unable to speak.

‘Your sister’s fine. She’s in the next room.’ He immediately tried to stand, and Stephanie caught him before he fell again. ‘Easy there, Jon. Your body’s not used to what you’ve just been through.’

‘And what is it that I’ve just been through?’ he asked before he had even decided he wanted to say anything. His mind was in overdrive. How does she know who I am? How does she know Rachel’s my sister?

‘You’ve been here a week, Jon –’

‘A week?!’ he exclaimed angrily, but Stephanie Bisham remained calm.

‘Yes, a week,’ she reiterated, ‘but there’s more you need to hear,’ and she gently pushed him back onto the bed. ‘You should probably sit down for this.’ He complied hesitantly. ‘What’s the last thing you remember?’

‘Someone was speaking to me,’ he said slowly. ‘Was that you?’

‘It was,’ Stephanie agreed. ‘How about before that?’

He thought back. ‘There was a weird room. We were lost. I thought we could radio for help or something.’

‘Well, we heard you, so to speak,’ Stephanie replied cryptically.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You did send a signal, but we had already pre-set the systems to bring you from… from where you were to us.’ Jon made to speak, but Stephanie pressed on quickly. ‘It’s usually best to just say it straight. You’ve had a week sedated, but you’re not in August any more. Or in 2004, for that matter. You’re not on an island on that lake anymore.’

‘So where the hell am I?’

‘You’re more than forty thousand years in the past. The question is when you are, and the where takes care of itself.’

In the total silence that followed, Jon stared at Stephanie Bisham with a mixture of disbelief and pity. She laughed, returning to her seat. ‘I always expect a different reaction, but I never get it!’ She pulled her blouse tight as she sat. ‘And once they’ve given me the “you’re fucking insane” look, it goes one of two ways. And I see you’re the type to sit and consider in silence, rather than laughing or shouting.’

A great flood was rushing through Jon’s mind; a tidal wave of thought and counter-thought, an argument conducted on fast forward, where only the crash against the reef might bring about a resolution, one way or another.

‘I’d want proof,’ he said at last.

‘And then you’d believe me?’

‘No, but I might be able to trust you.’

She gave her kindest smile yet. ‘Very wise.’ He looked embarrassed, but agreed. A synthetic bell chimed and Stephanie called out ‘Come in,’ and the door slid apart. Two people stood framed in the gap; one was a woman of similar age to Stephanie, with light brown, rather untidy hair, a slight face – small nose, thin lips, shallow cheeks and brows – indeed the only part that really stood out was her green eyes. The second person was Rachel.

‘Jon!’ she exclaimed. He tried to stand and she tried to run, but both attendants were alert. ‘Thanks,’ Rachel said, and the slight-faced woman smiled. Once shepherded to the middle of the clinically white room, the siblings hugged. Over his sister’s shoulder, Jon saw that the newcomer was dressed quite unlike Stephanie; knee-high black leather boots festooned with buckles and straps, a grey pinstriped skirt that didn’t reach her knees, and a baggy white jumper over a yellow polo shirt. He supposed the logo on her jumper was for a band, but he’d never heard of Ugly Bibble before.

Brother and sister parted and Stephanie introduced her colleague.

‘Well, Rachel’s already met her, but this is Amy Rayford.’ Amy smiled and held out her hand, which Jon took. Stephanie introduced herself to Rachel.

‘Glad you’re finally awake,’ Amy said, and Jon thought he recognised her voice, but couldn’t say from where.

‘So, Jon,’ Stephanie began, gesturing to the still open door. ‘You wanted to see some proof, right?’ Jon and Rachel glanced at each other and knew they had both received the same pitch.

‘Uh, yeah…’ he agreed slowly.

They talked as they walked, Stephanie and Amy stationed either side for support. Outside, a corridor curved around and stopped by a set of glass double doors. Jon stared about; the arrangement was the same, the door was the same. The lift cab that bobbed into view was the same. Had they really stood on this spot a week ago? Stephanie and Amy exchanged a knowing smile, but before Jon could speak, the doors dinged open and they stepped into the lift. The building had been buried a week ago, but now he could tell it stood on a hill, surrounded by rolling farmland, and the distant horizon was dominated by a conical mountain.

‘This is the same lift…?’ Rachel asked, sounding her confusion, gazing out at the sunlit day.

‘It is,’ Stephanie agreed.

‘I know you probably think it’s a trick,’ Amy said. ‘Everyone does.’

‘Everyone?’ Jon echoed, but neither Stephanie nor Amy responded to this.

‘Observation Deck,’ Amy called out. Jon and Rachel soon understood this to be a command to the lift, for the doors slid shut and the cab began to ascend. He stared out at the thick pine forests in the foothills and the little rivers twinkling in the sun, realising at last that he recognised Amy’s voice as that of the computer in the strange room at the top – allegedly – of this very lift.

The lift stopped short of the top, though. Even before the doors parted and Jon and Rachel walked across the wide, wooden deck to stare, they were transfixed by the sight of a city in the distance. The rivers they had seen behind the tower wound south through fields, then suburbs, becoming wide and spread out in a grand delta. Every island was packed with elegant towers, bridged one to another by large sluice gates. Apartments jostled along the shoreline, their glass glinting in the bright sun.

But the river did not flow out to sea. It simply vanished over the edge, and clouds rolled up to meet it. In fact, beyond the city, clouds was all they could see, except for plateaus that poked through the cotton wool in the distance, and their green tops glistened with other cities, too. The towers of vast suspension bridges pierced the clouds, linking the little islands of green.

‘The city of Terdanis,’ Amy said softly, joining Jon and Rachel by the edge. ‘And the prefecture of Mepisol.’ Rachel pinched herself discretely. The view did not alter. Jon gripped the rail tightly. It felt very solid.

After a long time staring in awe at Terdanis, Stephanie ushered them to a piece of the deck where chairs and a table were arranged, and the siblings were helped into the most comfortable.

‘So, where shall we start?’ Stephanie began, but Rachel interrupted her.

‘Why are we here?’

‘You were injured,’ Stephanie replied at once. ‘You signalled for help and we helped.’

‘That doesn’t explain why we’re still here,’ Jon added. He kept his voice as calm as he could, though he could not stop his eyes being drawn to the vista every few minutes. He was sure it would vanish as soon as he looked away. Stephanie and Amy exchanged a glance.

‘I’m sorry for the way it had to be done,’ Amy said, and she sounded genuine to Jon’s ear.

‘The way it had to be done?’ Rachel demanded, folding her arms.

‘What was the date when you left Dawn Three?’ Stephanie asked.

‘Dawn Three?’

‘Sorry, it’s just short hand. What was the date when you left your time?’

‘We haven’t left anywhere!’ Rachel protested, but Jon answered.

‘4th August,’ he said slowly. ‘2004.’

Stephanie handed a small black device to them and, as they took it between them, a screen lit up. ‘This news report is from the BBC on the evening of, by your calendar, 5th August, 2004.’ She tapped the play icon and the siblings watched. Even months later, whenever Jon tried to recall the words of the broadcast, they would not come, but the images seared themselves into his brain forever.

‘You faked this,’ Rachel remarked tartly when it was finished. ‘It’s a fake video. You can fake all sorts of crap like that these days.’

‘I assure you, it’s real,’ Amy interjected.

‘You’re crazy,’ Rachel objected, then glanced at her brother. ‘Jon, tell her this is crazy!’

He slid the tablet onto the deck in silence. ‘You didn’t tell us why we’re here,’ he said evenly. Rachel gaped at him in disbelief, wondering why he did not agree with her at once.

‘Have you ever seen anywhere like this in your world?’ Stephanie asked, casting a hand towards Terdanis and the prefecture of Mepisol. ‘This building – the Kairosille Observatory – exists on this same spot in your time, but you don’t need me to point out that rather a lot changes in forty thousand years.’

‘You’re here because we need your help,’ Amy added, dropping into a chair opposite the pair. ‘As Steph said, none of what you can see out there exists in your time. Everything you see here… Dawn Two, as we call it… will end,’ she said, and her hands trembled on the arm rests. ‘Soon.’

‘And what you saw on that video is…’ Stephanie began, but Jon finished her sentence.

‘That’s the end of Dawn Three. Is that what you’re saying?’

Rachel stared in silent astonishment. Her brother! The eternal sceptic, believing in this rubbish?

‘Ah, our guests are finally awake! Miss Bisham, you should have informed me!’

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There wasn't a convenient break in the text, so I figured leaving it on a new character intro was probably a good point.

Wednesday 2 November 2016

Dawn Four volume 1 - Pursuit



This is taken from the introduction of Pursuit, the first book in a story I've been writing on and off (mostly on) for the best part of ten years. 

Though it has no header, the title of the introduction is "Observations".

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Roots and stones broke up the ground, and Jon Sinclair had to tread carefully. His mind was not on the job, though. He went over, again, that question he had been asking himself for the best part of an hour already: why? Why was he stuck in this crazy situation? And Rachel, too? One of them lost was bad enough, but both children?
 

Their hopes of being found dwindling?

He stamped his foot. He mustn’t think like that. His sister was relying on him.
 

‘Doesn’t look very good, does it Jon?’ she remarked softly, drawing close. The dappled sunlight made her blonde hair shine and the tips, still red from her last adventure with the dye, sparkled, but her normally bright blue eyes looked hollow. She crossed the few paces to Jon’s side and pressed into his reassuring hug. Rachel glanced up at his tufty brown hair. He would normally have had a crap joke for her, but there was nothing. He just shrugged.

It scared her.

‘You sure the boat is somewhere along here?’

They pressed on. Jon had no answer. He had no idea. Maybe their little tour ship was moored in this direction, though he doubted it. Trying and hoping for the best was better than nothing though, wasn’t it?

But the truth, like the silence, was deafening; they were lost and alone, and had been for three hours. They had no food and no water.

Rachel was still waiting for her answer. She wished he would say something, even if it was pompous. Anything to end the silence. The sun was starting to sink.

‘What do you think we should do?’ she asked.

‘Do?’ he echoed. She shivered. ‘What can we do? Except wait.’ He pulled her closer to his side.

The ground came to a precipice; they must have been walking up hill for a while because a steep gully lay before them, about thirty feet deep. Like every inch of the island, the hollow was thick with trees, but they had a good view through the trunks to the sparkling waters of Lake Winnepeg beyond.

But it wasn’t the water, nor the deep orange sunset that drew the eyes of Jon and Rachel Sinclair, for nestled in the darkest part of the thicket, hard against the earth cliff, stood a building. Had the sun been any further in the west they would never have seen it, but the splash of red on metal stood out like a flare.

Though, in the second or so it took to see all this, neither of them noticed the ground falling out from beneath them. Rachel slipped out of Jon’s grasp, the world turned upside down, air rushed past his face and he thought no more.


                                                                    * * * *

Her head was spinning. She didn’t know is she was still falling. Lying on her back, with little showers of earth falling all around her, she tried to roll onto all fours and stand.

‘Ouch!’

A sharp pain shot through her chest and she remained on her haunches.

‘Rache! Are you alright?’

She felt her brother’s hands under her arms, lifting her up, and she gasped as the pain roared again through her side like an electric shock.

‘I’ve been better,’ she muttered.

‘Anything broken?’

She gasped. ‘Mmm. Probably…’

He helped her away from the mound of fallen earth. The wind was up and the sun had long gone. He didn’t like to think how long they had lain there unconscious. He spat.

‘Are you alright?’ Rachel asked, her turn for concern.

‘Just blood,’ he explained, feeling his gums with one finger. He thought part of his front tooth was missing. Just ahead they head waves breaking on the shore, the peaks shining in the moonlight.

‘Where’s the boat?’ she asked. The shoreline was deserted. Jon stared left and right, eyes straining for any sign of a ship, but they were completely alone. He shivered.

‘Let’s find some shelter,’ he muttered, and a memory came back to him. ‘Hey, wasn’t there a building back there? I think I saw something.’

‘Yeah,’ she agreed, and he helped her to turn. Jon’s jeans felt sticky and damp; he was sure he was bleeding somewhere. ‘It was over that way, I think,’ though in truth it was too dark to be sure, especially once they shuffled back under the canopy.

They found the building by walking straight into it. Rachel put her hands out to the solid metal wall for support. By the fragment of moonlight trickling through the trees, they could tell the thing was old. In fact, the building looked like it had been underground for a very long time; the skin was faded like the pattern on old crockery unearthed from a compost heap.

‘There’s an opening round here,’ Jon said, and Rachel shuffled around the exterior until she bumped into him. She could barely see what he was showing her. ‘It’s a window, I think. He was stooped low, leaning to peer through the gap.

‘It looks dangerous,’ she said, though she had little idea – it was just too dark.

He stood and put his hands gently on her shoulders. ‘I don’t think we have much of a choice, Rache,’ he intoned kindly.

She relented. ‘Okay…’

He crouched, slipped out of his jacket with difficulty, and spread it over the sill of the broken window. Then he crawled through the gap and she heard him land inside. ‘Are you okay?’

‘It’s a bit of a drop and floor’s covered in broken glass,’ he called back. ‘Keep your hands on my jacket and I’ll catch you.’ He heard her gasp with pain and he approached the gap, reaching through. ‘Take my hands, Rache.’ She inched forward slowly and he lifted her through and down onto the floor, but her weight shifted suddenly on landing and Rachel yelped.

He steadied, stepped back, and lifted her out of the hole her modest weight had just exposed in the floor.

‘Blood hell, Rache. Are you okay?’

‘I’m no worse,’ she shot back testily. ‘If that’s what you mean.’ Then, ‘Sorry.’

‘No worries,’ he said, smiling, but it was too dark for her to see. ‘I’d be more worried if you weren’t sarky.’

Though light was coming from somewhere and they turned to see a very soft blue glow behind a sheet of glass at one end of the corridor they were now stood in. As they watched, the light grew brighter and the glass sheet, now revealed as a door, slid apart. A glass-walled lift stood waiting, expectantly.

Rachel looked back down the corridor, but it curved out of sight. Jon stepped towards the lift.

‘Are you sure it’s safe?’

‘No other way to find out,’ he replied. ‘We might be able to find a radio or something.’

‘I guess…’ she accepted, and walked into the lift after him. Jon pressed his face to the glass, looking down. The glow from the lift let him see that the shaft went down quite a way. Then the doors slid shut and the cab began a rapid ascent.

Jon and Rachel lurched into each other, but the journey was brief; the cab halted before a second set of glass doors. Before them was one of the oddest rooms either Jon or Rachel had ever seen. It was circular, stepped down in tiers towards the middle, and ringed by alcoves packed with banks of monitors. Their soft glow projected a pleasant haze. Bulkheads divided the outer wall at regular intervals, accentuating the shape with soft shadows, and two chairs sat ready in each space. A pair of cone-shaped mechanisms shared the middle of the room, one rising, the other hanging, though not quite meeting. The place looked as though the crew of the Enterprise had just walked off set.

A wall of warm air greeted them when the doors dinged open, rushing through their hair as two atmospheres merged.

‘Wow,’ Rachel breathed.

They stepped hesitantly into the room, half expecting it to wink out of existence, but it remained reassuringly there. They walked along the top level, computer screens fading up as they approached, stacks of code dashing up the displays. Wanting it all to be real, but not trusting until he could feel and recognise what the chamber was built from, Jon pressed his fingers into the leather seats, glad that they dimpled in the way he expected. The desks were plastic, robust, curved, and painted a very light grey. The terminals had no keyboards or mice, but the chairs looked comfy, so he sat Rachel down and checked her injuries.

Jon imagined he looked as bad as his sister. Bruises and cuts marked her face and her clothes were torn and caked with dirt. Her left hand was pressed into her ribs.

‘Your leg’s bleeding,’ she said, and he looked down to see the dark stain on his thigh.

‘I’ll be okay,’ he said, but she persisted.

‘I should bind it up. Let me –’ but a screen beside them flickered, the flying code replaced by a logo or a tower about which the name “Kairosille Observatory” was etched and, beneath, “Touch to Begin”.

Every screen in the room followed suit.

‘Going to do what it says?’ she asked, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. She reached behind her. ‘Maybe we can call for help?’

‘What’s that you’ve got there?’ he asked, seeing the object in her hands.

‘Just a book. I was practically sitting on it. Well?’

‘What’s it about?’

Staring at him in bemusement, she shook her head and flipped the heavy book open on the desk. She scanned a page that was chock full of words and diagrams, but understood none of it. ‘No idea,’ she replied at once, turning another chunk of pages in one, and she was about to close it when something caught her eye and she pulled the book closer.

‘What is it?’

‘Someone’s highlighted the top of this page. Sequence sixteen. Underlined in red.’ Jon stared at her, then turned sharply back to the screen, convinced he had seen something move there, but the logo remained static. ‘What did you see?’ Rachel asked. She wondered if she had seen it, too.

He bit his lip. ‘Dunno…’ He must have imagined it.

‘So, you going to press it, or shall I?’ and she leant forward, one hand still pressed on her ribs.

‘Yeah, sure…’ and he stretched out a finger to the glowing icon, but paused, glancing around for something – he didn’t know what – then turned back and touched to begin.

They both relaxed, fully expecting nothing to happen, but the chamber throbbed noisily into life. Jon stagger to his feet, knocking the chair back down the steps. Bright lights flared from every beam and the floor hummed with a powerful energy; a creature, long in slumber, was waking.

‘What the hell?’ Rachel demanded, having to shout over the cacophony erupting all around them.

‘I don’t know!’ he called back, glancing instinctively at the door which was, too his horror, closing. The lift shot down and out of sight before they were even half way to it. ‘Shit!’

Hands grasping for the seam, they tried to pry the door open, but it remained immovable. Panic swelled in his chest as he willed the cab to return; there wasn’t a recall button that she could see. Rachel banged her fists uselessly against the glass.

They were trapped in contraption whose revolutions were beginning. Then, the voice spoke.

Rachel whirled about, but the room was still empty but for themselves. A female voice addressed the chamber, running through a list of half-heard and even less-understood announcements.

‘Commencing first stage shutdown and separation; rerouting power to atmospheric pre-preparation subsystems; signal core isolation complete; main power to transmission emitters; confining all control inputs to this location,’ and more besides that they did not catch.

‘What is it, Jon? What the hell’s going on?!’ Rachel’s voice rose shrilly; he grabbed her hand, trying to steady her.

‘Rache, please. Rachel!’

But as suddenly as it had started, the noise and light ceased, plunging them into total darkness. Rachel screamed, and her shriek from out of that nothingness chilled her brother’s blood.

Then, the core mechanism – the opposing cones – began to extend towards each other, pulsing with a hypnotic blue light. The floor they were stood on turned translucent and amplified the light until it was painful to look at. They clutched each other as the cone tips neared, closed their eyes. White light flared through their eyelids and the fell like cut grass.


The light faded and the voice resumed. ‘Initiating matter confinement; full power to transmission emitters; initiating link; buffering; transferring.’

The last sensation Jon felt was a tingle at the top of his spine that spread to every fibre of his being. The room hummed and the blue glow flared, then subsided. Jon, Rachel, and their belongings has vanished.

‘Temporal incursion complete; purging buffer; relinquishing atmospheric pre-prepartion subsystems; disengaging matter transmission protocols; rerouting controls to default locations; returning to standby mode.’


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That's about one third of the intro. I'm not very good at short chapters...