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Extract from my 2nd #WIP
Title: The Ragged Edge of Time.
Genre: Science Fiction, Time Travel, Alternate History
#SciFi #TimeTravel #AltHist

You can read other extracts clicking #1, #2, #3#4#5,  #67# or 8#.


Gideon had blacked out as the TimeSlip device had pulsed, he slowly regained consciousness and was immediately aware that he was not aboard the Dominator. No starship in history bad been constructed from concrete. But the devastation around him told him this place had experienced a similar catastrophe to that of Vastos Hugo’s flag ship. That thought made Gideon suddenly aware of Hugo and Gideon quickly looked around him. It was dark, with small shafts of light filtering through the crevices in the debris. Dust motes were dancing within the narrow beams of light. Gideon pulled himself to his feet, feeling a weariness he thought androids should not feel.

A muffled cry came from Gideon’s right and the turned climbed the debris field toward the noise, thinking Hugo had become trapped in the debris.

“Can anyone hear me?” It was a female voice, definitely not Hugo.

“Yes, I can. Wait a moment while I locate your position. Keep talking so I can get a bearing.”

“I think I’m trapped under a girder or something.”

Gideon used his extenuated senses and soon located the source of the voice. His eyes could pick up heat sources and he soon confirmed a human female was trapped behind fallen debris. Gideon set to work to clear the fallen concrete and metal girders. As he worked away at the debris field, Gideon analysed materials he pulled away and was dismayed to realize that although the beams were manufactured steel, there were huge amounts of impurities in the steel. This information, for some reason, was unnerving to Gideon. Where is this place? Where were we transported? And where is Hugo?

Gideon pulled at a small section of wall and the debris cleared away to reveal a small pocket in which a human female was crouched.

“Hello, do not be afraid. I will extract you in a short time.”

“I’m not afraid, just pissed off. This is the second time in as many weeks. You would think Der Fuhrer would have better things to do than bomb the shit out of me.”

Gideon paid little attention to the young woman’s rambling and concentrated on extricating her from the fallen masonry and beams. After a few minutes the woman scrambled out, choking and coughing.

“Good job you found me, I could have been a goner. You guys normally take weeks to get the bodies out… if at all.”

“Goner?” Gideon asked.

“Yeah, snuffed out. Kicked the bucket. You know, dead. Boy you’re a glum one.” The woman was dusting herself down and giving Gideon a curious look. “That a new uniform for the Civil Defence? Where the hell did you get that cloth from, man? Looks expensive.” The woman was feeling the edge of Gideon’s combat tunic and looking closely at the fabric.

“It was made by my father.”

“Some tailor, man. He’s good. I know, my old gramps was a tailor. Taught me a thing or two, but this is something else. Where’s the stitching?”

“Madam, I suggest we leave this place befor…”

“Hey, less of the madam. I’m a miss and don’t you forget it.”

“I beg your pardon. Miss, can we leave here now before more debris falls on us.”

“Sure,” the woman said, holding out her hand. “Callie McKenzie at your service. If… whoa, my camera bag. Shit, where is it?”

Callie began sifting through the debris and then let out a squeal of delight, holding up a large black bag. “This baby cost me a lot, friend, no way am I leaving without this. Come on big guy, let’s motor.”

Callie took an increasingly perplexed Gideon by the hand and together they made their way toward the largest shaft of light. Within minutes, Gideon had cleared a way and they were exiting the devastated area and climbing up, into the light.

At the top of a steep bank of shattered concrete, fallen wood and steel, Gideon surveyed his surroundings. He walked a full circle and shook his head at the scene of devastation. “Where am I?”

Callie, who had been watching him with more and more concern took Gideon’s left hand into her right hand. “Where are you? New York of course!”

“Yes, New York. I was in orbit over New York. What time is it?”

“A little after two. What do you mean by orbit?”

“The year is two?”

“No, idiot, two in the afternoon. The year is 1944. Did you get a blow to your head or some sort of shock?”

“Yes, a real shock. It’s 1944 and this is New York? Not possible. This is not possible.”

Callie squeezed Gideon’s hand and led him away from the debris. “I think we need to get you to a medic, pal. What’s your name. Do you remember?”

Gideon and Callie scrambled down the scree of debris, hand in hand, like two lovers on a Sunday afternoon stroll, except all around it was a scene from hell. No matter where he looked, Gideon could see devastation on an epic scale. All the skyscrapers were shattered to a greater or lesser degree and the Empire State Building was virtually gone. He knew he was in shock, not from injury but from the sensory input. What he was seeing simply did not happen in 1944. New York, if indeed this was New York, was never bombed. The Nazis, in World War 2, managed to spy from U-Boats off the east cost of the USA, but this never happened.

“Hey, cat got your tongue. I asked what your name is.”

“Gideon,” he mumbled as he stumbled over loose rubble before finally his feet were firmly onto a concrete sidewalk.

“Gideon, that’s biblical isn’t it? Something to do with the ultimate warrior.”

Gideon stopped walking and Callie was pulled back sharply by his action.

“Hey! That hurt, man.”

“I had never thought of that connotation before. It is interesting that my creator, my father, should consider to name me Gideon Prime. Considering what I am designed to do.”

“Man, you are a walking riddle. You don’t make a lot of sense and, come to think of it, you talk funny too. A sort of Yankee English mix.”

Gideon smiled at Callie. “Your accent is somewhat odd to me.”

“Hey, I was brought up in Alabama, but we moved here when I was ten. Guess my accent is a bit weird.”

“Yes, weird.”

“Okay, man. Enough of the compliments. There’s a medical station not far from here and we can get you checked out. You are one odd guy though, Gideon.”

“You think so?” Gideon asked as Callie and he, still hand in hand, walked down the shattered remains of a 1944 New York street. Hopefully you will never find out how odd.


Tom Kane © 2017
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You can read other extracts clicking #1, #2, #3#4#5,  #67# or 8#.


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An Indie Author Guide to Blogging – Helpful advice, hints and tips for bloggers
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Living in Cyprus: 2013 to 2016 – An expat’s life in Cyprus
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The Ragged Edge of Time: Science Fiction Time Travel Alternate History

Welcome to Beyond: 1950s Style Science Fiction

Ascension-Brave – New Earth: First Contact Becomes Humanities First Galactic War

The Brittle Sea – Drama

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