The Legend of Things Past (Beyond Pluto SciFi Futuristic Aventures Book 1) by Phillip William Sheppard Page B
Authors: Phillip William Sheppard
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restrained the urge to kick the desk. He drew in a
deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Okay,” he said, “When do I go?”
“Now.” The General tapped something on his palm and there
was a dim whirring sound to the right. The scenic picture of a boat on a lake
surrounded by mountains disappeared—there had never been a picture there to
begin with. It was just a projection.
Hidden behind the illusion was a small tubular room made of
metal. Donovan recognized the design from his grandfather’s prototypes. The
only difference was that this one glowed with a blue light—it worked.
The General motioned for him to step inside. Donovan became
very nervous. He wasn’t used to this—the unknown. He had always been able to
see his enemies clearly. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to do it. He hesitated in
front of the machine.
“I need to call my wife. Let her know that I’ll be gone…”
The look on General McGregor’s face gave him the answer.
“You can’t call her. Besides, if you fix things in the past, you’ll never be sent
on this mission.”
“But…”
“Brigadier General Knight…” Donovan was a little startled at
the General’s return to formality. The man’s face was perfectly neutral now. He
wondered where that other General had gone—and if he would ever see him again. “May
I remind you that the entire human race is relying on you? Including your wife
and children.”
Donovan straightened his shoulders and stepped inside the
machine. He looked at the General through the glass door. The General stared
gravely back.
“I’m transferring the brief to your watch. Do not open it
until you arrive at your destination.”
“Yes, sir.” Suddenly his watch seemed to burn at his side, a
secret nugget of information calling his name. “I don’t suppose you can tell me
where I’m going at least?”
The General’s lips twitched. Maybe that other guy was still
in there somewhere. “Nowhere… They’ll be expecting you.”
Before he could ponder this, the General tapped his palm and
Donovan was sucked into a whirlpool of white and blue light.
Chapter 4
“The truth is, we’re all
cyborgs with cell phones and online identities.”
—Geoff Johns
May 4, 2176
Fort Belvoir, VA
Donovan Knight
Donovan felt as if he were being sucked down a drain. He was
being pulled so hard and so fast that he couldn’t move his body. He could do
nothing but sink into the terror of temporary paralysis. Any effort to shift
even an inch resulted in a strain in his muscles that left him weak.
He could do nothing but ride it out. His head was spinning,
then splitting. He felt pain beyond anything he had ever felt before—worse than
being shot with a fatal setting on an electron gun, worse than third degree burns
from explosions, worse than having his face cut open by a nine-year-old. He
didn’t know what to do with the agony—he blacked out.
When Donovan came to, the motion of the time machine had
slowed. His brain seemed to expand under his skull, to pulsate as if to the
ticking of a clock. Tick-throb, tock-throb. Exhausted from the pain that had
ripped through him, he drifted back into unconsciousness.
When he woke the second time, he stayed awake. The time machine
had come almost to a stop. The feeling now resembled a descending elevator that
slowly rotated. The white and blue blur that surrounded him began to fade in places,
revealing human faces. But the spinning kept any of them from becoming clear.
Finally, the machine stopped and the whirlwind of light died.
At first, Donovan thought that the time machine hadn’t
worked and was angry and sick at the thought that he would have to endure
another trip like that. Then he realized that the office outside the time
machine was similar to the one he had left but not exactly the same. There was
a desk in the same place, but it was different desk. The same plant in the far
corner, but it was much shorter. And the man leaning against the desk
deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Okay,” he said, “When do I go?”
“Now.” The General tapped something on his palm and there
was a dim whirring sound to the right. The scenic picture of a boat on a lake
surrounded by mountains disappeared—there had never been a picture there to
begin with. It was just a projection.
Hidden behind the illusion was a small tubular room made of
metal. Donovan recognized the design from his grandfather’s prototypes. The
only difference was that this one glowed with a blue light—it worked.
The General motioned for him to step inside. Donovan became
very nervous. He wasn’t used to this—the unknown. He had always been able to
see his enemies clearly. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to do it. He hesitated in
front of the machine.
“I need to call my wife. Let her know that I’ll be gone…”
The look on General McGregor’s face gave him the answer.
“You can’t call her. Besides, if you fix things in the past, you’ll never be sent
on this mission.”
“But…”
“Brigadier General Knight…” Donovan was a little startled at
the General’s return to formality. The man’s face was perfectly neutral now. He
wondered where that other General had gone—and if he would ever see him again. “May
I remind you that the entire human race is relying on you? Including your wife
and children.”
Donovan straightened his shoulders and stepped inside the
machine. He looked at the General through the glass door. The General stared
gravely back.
“I’m transferring the brief to your watch. Do not open it
until you arrive at your destination.”
“Yes, sir.” Suddenly his watch seemed to burn at his side, a
secret nugget of information calling his name. “I don’t suppose you can tell me
where I’m going at least?”
The General’s lips twitched. Maybe that other guy was still
in there somewhere. “Nowhere… They’ll be expecting you.”
Before he could ponder this, the General tapped his palm and
Donovan was sucked into a whirlpool of white and blue light.
Chapter 4
“The truth is, we’re all
cyborgs with cell phones and online identities.”
—Geoff Johns
May 4, 2176
Fort Belvoir, VA
Donovan Knight
Donovan felt as if he were being sucked down a drain. He was
being pulled so hard and so fast that he couldn’t move his body. He could do
nothing but sink into the terror of temporary paralysis. Any effort to shift
even an inch resulted in a strain in his muscles that left him weak.
He could do nothing but ride it out. His head was spinning,
then splitting. He felt pain beyond anything he had ever felt before—worse than
being shot with a fatal setting on an electron gun, worse than third degree burns
from explosions, worse than having his face cut open by a nine-year-old. He
didn’t know what to do with the agony—he blacked out.
When Donovan came to, the motion of the time machine had
slowed. His brain seemed to expand under his skull, to pulsate as if to the
ticking of a clock. Tick-throb, tock-throb. Exhausted from the pain that had
ripped through him, he drifted back into unconsciousness.
When he woke the second time, he stayed awake. The time machine
had come almost to a stop. The feeling now resembled a descending elevator that
slowly rotated. The white and blue blur that surrounded him began to fade in places,
revealing human faces. But the spinning kept any of them from becoming clear.
Finally, the machine stopped and the whirlwind of light died.
At first, Donovan thought that the time machine hadn’t
worked and was angry and sick at the thought that he would have to endure
another trip like that. Then he realized that the office outside the time
machine was similar to the one he had left but not exactly the same. There was
a desk in the same place, but it was different desk. The same plant in the far
corner, but it was much shorter. And the man leaning against the desk
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