Timestitch Ch. 00-02

AUTHOR INTRODUCTION

Years ago, to exorcize my personal demons after a big breakup, I sat down and wrote the dirtiest novel I could. I never actually intended it for publication. But, as time went by I reconsidered.

Despite the filth, I hope you will not only enjoy it for the story itself on top of all the prurient bits.

The story will eventually have everything except incest. Not that I have it as a limit, I was just oblivious to how popular familiar sex was on this platform. Sorry about that readers. Maybe next time.

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PROLOGUE

5:14 PM EST, Wednesday, April 21st, 1976, somewhere in rural Pennsylvania

The hole in space-time was tiny, comparable to the mouth of a toothpaste tube. It lasted barely a second and a half. That was enough.

The nannite swarm oozed through the gap and hung in mid air until the hole closed. Then it fell like a large sticky noodle to the forest floor. The pine needles it found there nourished it somewhat but digestion was slow. To maximize production it really needed complex hydrocarbons and various minerals in liquid suspension. The best locale for that was inside the body of a living organism, preferably a large one so that the swarm could grow large enough to achieve full sentience. Best of all would be a large, sentient creature that would aid it in it's ultimate quest: complete conquest of this new world.

As small as the swarm was, weighing less than a hundred grams, it was not very intelligent. It really only knew only a few things. It knew it had been part of a greater mass and was now very small. It knew it had to eat to grow, but that it was also very vulnerable. Having been sundered from the mass of the main swarm on its home world, further division would render it completely nonfunctional. It would die.

The swarm burrowed deep into the loamy soil.

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CHAPTER 1

11:03 GMT, Tuesday, June 5th, 2108 aboard the Forlorn Hope somewhere in the Oort Cloud

"Diaz? He's a moron!" Taylor Diaz heard Victoria Wilcox say as he approached the open hatch to Doctor Patel's lab. "Bloody Yank!"

Victoria Price-Wilcox was a beautiful woman and knew it. She was tall and lithe with glossy black hair done up in a style Taylor thought of as "retro noir."

Everyone on the Forlorn Hope wore skintights which resembled body paint but were actually programmable nano-technology. The multipurpose undergarment offered protection from cuts, scrapes, explosive decompression and possibly nannite intrusion as well as being programmable into any color scheme the wearer could imagine. But they also hid very little. Most people wore shorts to cover their privates. Victoria had programmed her 'tights semigloss black and wore a gauzy wrap of some beaded golden stuff that swayed with her walk. That and the only pair of 3 inch heals this side of the orbit of Neptune made her strides down the ship's passageway events not to be missed.

It was too bad she was such a bitch. Whenever she and Taylor were in the same room she would never look at him and talked to some point over his head. Her tone was always cold and aloof.

Late of the Royal Air Force Intelligence, Victoria was the primary female candidate for "The Mission," which was the only thing keeping the passengers and crew of the Forlorn Hope from sinking into despair. Most, if not all, were in "Traumatic Stress Recovery" or TSR. This was the latest name for the condition previously known as "Shell Shock," "Battle Fatigue," and "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."

Many had already sunk into despair or cynical hedonism.

A few however carried on the titular mission to find a solution to the apocalyptic madness by going back to its source, back to the year 1986.

The ship itself had some other name on its hull but everyone aboard called it the Forlorn Hope. These were fewer than a thousand souls and the last of humanity free of the madness known as the Davidian Ascendency. The reason they were way out here in the Oort Cloud—besides hiding from the Ascendency, of course—was to find the spot in the universe, to their best ability to calculate, where the Earth actually was 123 years ago.

The mission was rapidly approaching culmination with hectic improvisations to overcome glitch after glitch. Taylor wondered what the latest one was that had called him to Patel's lab.

Doctor Sazi Patel, late of the University of Mumbai and the Sorbonne said "He's a doctor of—"

"Don't start on his credentials! I know all about them! He's an idiot! A pervert!"

"Considering the mission—"

"Look, I like a good fuck as much as the next gir—woman, but Diaz... he's a maniac. He'd fuck a hole in the hull if it sucked hard enough!"

"I don't think he would, actually." Doctor Patel's voice had an edge to it. It warmed Taylor's belly to hear it. "Anyway the Psych Committee thinks he's the best for the job."

Taylor grinned. Me! I've been selected!

"The Psych Committee is crazy!" Victoria said.

"Yes dear but it's not polite to say." Patel said. "Anyway Doctor Hertz's hallucinations are mostly under control."

"Mostly?

"She still has the invisible cat but it no longer talks to her."

"They're probably just having a tiff. And stop trying to change the subject. He doesn't take the mission seriously. He doesn't take any fucking thing seriously!"

Taylor walked in. "I take fucking very seriously, I work very hard at it."

Victoria whirled. Her face blushed crimson. She might have struck him in that moment but instead backed against the wall like a frightened animal.

"Hi Doc, how's that pert brown derriere of yours?"

"Longing for your return Taylor."

"Doctor Patel!" Victoria's voice was almost a shriek.

The diminutive brown woman tucked her hands into the pockets of her lab coat and grinned at Victoria. "I like a good fuck as well as the next girl."

"So that's how it is? He fucked his way onto the mission? Did he fuck Doctor Hertz too?"

No, Taylor hadn't fucked Doctor Hertz. Soon after coming on board the Forlorn Hope he had caught the naked woman as she ran shrieking past down the passageway and held her in his arms talking gentle nonsense. The poor woman had been rubbing herself with her own feces so Taylor gave her a bath. It seemed to have helped.

"How dare you accuse—" Patel started but when Taylor raised his hand she stopped short.

"Let that one lie Doctor," Taylor said. "At some point Victoria will likely apologize but right now arguing would be time badly spent."

"You're right as usual." Patel blew out her cheeks. "I suppose you overheard? You're in."

"Thanks Doctor, I appreciate the vote of confidence."

"You were always the top male candidate, the issue was compatibility." Patel looked at Victoria with scorn. "The committee was split between going with the second best on the male side or dropping Victoria here. In the end the second best on both sides have boundary issues and the committee decided you could handle the personality clashes with our primary here if anyone could."

"They were going to drop me?" Victoria asked. She looked like she had been punched in the belly.

"Yes dear, we were going to drop you," Patel said. "But I convinced them you weren't really such a bitch, just defensive as hell. After what happened at RAF Leeds...."

"We all have our baggage Doc." Taylor forced himself to smile at Victoria. "Don't we?"

"Yes we all have baggage aplenty." Victoria straightened. "Tissues all around and on with the show."

"Good," Patel said. "We can go any time once final checks are made. I called you both here to give you the egg and the rest of your kit."

She lifted a small silver suitcase up onto the lab counter. "It and all your electronics are in here. Keep the case with you, you may need to leave at a moment's notice."

Patel opened the case and let them inspect the contents. The kit included a pair of modern tablets, one large and one small, a stack of period currency, gold coins, identification, a variety of electronic equipment some of which was disguised as period pieces but most of it not, and the egg.

The egg, the ultimate weapon against the invading enemy, was slightly smaller than a chicken egg and covered in pure gold. Gold covered because that metal was hypoallergenic and egg shaped because "Plan B" was to deliver it to the alien encased in a human body offered as bait. "Plan A" was simply to give it to the alien as a welcoming gift.

Taylor considered Plan A overly optimistic. He contemplated Plan B. The psych committee had spent a lot of time asking him about anal sex. He pulled the egg from his nook and hefted it. It was heavy but not as heavy as it would be if made of pure gold. He estimated it's density at about that of iron or steel, say seven or eight times as dense as water. It would feel... He looked at Victoria speculatively. She looked back at him through half lidded eyes.

"Careful with that," Patel said.

He looked from Victoria to the doctor. "From what I've seen of the specs it's nearly indestructible."

"Yes but it picks up dust and dirt from static and you wouldn't want that when you go to insert it."

Taylor shivered and put it back. "You could maybe have included a pack of baby wipes? And maybe lube?"

"Those should be available locally."

"Do we need to sign for it?" Victoria asked.

Both Taylor and Patel answered "no!"

Patel held up her tablet. "As soon as I turn this over, I'm initiating the worm to wipe all records of this from out system."

"Consider it turned over Doctor," Taylor said.

Patel entered a code on her tablet. "There. Only the data needed in engineering is left. The only records of the mission plan are in the two tablets in the case. I don't even have a record anymore. Please tell me you will be very careful with them?"

"I will be very careful with them Doctor," Taylor said.

"As will I," Victoria said.

What else do we need to do?"

"Period clothing?" Victoria asked. "We can't wear skintights on the streets of... Scranton is it? Not in 1986 anyway."

"We're trying to scrounge up some things for you. The problem is you're both so tall... You may end up wandering around the winter landscape in shorts and shower clogs."

"I should be okay, I have a couple of college sweat shirts and these." Taylor indicated his shorts.

"I really have nothing to wear," Victoria said.

"From what I read, floppy off the shoulder sweatshirts were all the rage among young girls then," Patel said.

"I'm hardly a teenager but I suppose I could manage. The issue of my bottom remains unresolved however." She looked at Taylor with challenging eyes.

Taylor took another opportunity to look at the subject at issue. He rubbed his chin judiciously. "I suppose we could drop near a beach community. You could wrap a big beach towel around it and play lost tourist."

"I suppose," Victoria admitted. "But we may not have much choice where we come down. I'd prefer a more flexible option. Jeans would be ideal."

Really tight cut off jeans would be just the thing, Taylor thought.

"I'll see what I can do," Patel said. "Anything else?"

"Weapons?" Taylor asked. "We don't want to wave Mark Twelves around either."

"Ah! I'm so glad you asked that." Patel smiled. "Gina in engineering said leave it to her."

She picked up her tablet and touched the screen. "Gina? We're ready for you."

"On the way," a tinny voice said.

All three turned towards the hatch expectantly.

While skintights hid very little, they could be programmed to at least provide some padding over a woman's nipples. This was because the technology had crossed into the civilian marketplace a decade before when some entrepreneur discovered it could be used to create perfectly fitted seamless and practically invisible brassieres. Then that technology had crossed back into the military as an upgrade of the suits.

The interface for Victoria's black 'tights had the 'modesty box' checked, giving her the smooth look of a mid 20th century comic book heroine. Gina had not bothered and in fact had programed her suit in a whirling green, black and gold pattern that emphasized her womanly features, including what looked like two tiny green dragons wrapping golden tongues around her prominent nipples.

It always brought a smile to Taylor's face when he saw this. He smiled now as Gina walked in with a plastic crate in her arms. The short zaftig woman smiled back, lighting up her broad face from her pointy chin to her hazel eyes beneath her straight cut black bangs.

"Hi Doc. Hi LFM... Uh... Major Wilcox."

"LFM?" Victoria asked. She looked accusingly at Taylor.

Patel grinned and answered before Taylor could. "The girls in hydroponics started calling him that, it means Latin Fuck Machine."

"Thank you doctor, I surmised that on my own," Victoria said. "What I can't fathom is why the commander lets people be so familiar."

"Don't stick your cock up her butt Taylor," Gina said. She put the crate on the counter. "The bug up there will bite it off."

Victoria gasped. Patel laughed. Taylor grinned and shook his head. "Be nice Gina."

"We're the last fucking remnant of sane humanity, every decent institution ever created has been perverted into its evil twin, and she wants to play at military courtesy."

"It's not a game!" Victoria said. "If we don't hold on to—"

"There's a horde of super powered madmen out there looking for us. They want to rape and torture us all to death... And then... And then... eat us!"

Taylor had heard the tone many times before on the Forlorn Hope. He walked over and put an arm on the short woman's shoulders. Gina latched onto him with a powerful bear hug.

"My boys... They..." Gina cried into Taylor's chest. "My boys, I miss my boys...."

"I know you do..." Taylor looked over Gina's head at Victoria. He tried manfully to communicate something other than 'see what you've done' with his expression. He thought he was failing miserably but he saw wide eyed guilt and understanding on the taller woman's face. Taylor kissed the top of Gina's head and rubbed her back. "I know you do."

"I'm sorry," Victoria said. "I didn't mean..."

"We all don't mean to dredge," Patel said. "But we do and then we deal. 'Tissues all round' as you said."

They all communed with their ghosts silently for a few minutes until Gina pinched Taylor's ass, a sure sign she was recovering from her episode—or, more likely, forcing herself out of it. Taylor let go of her and said brightly "You've brought us some presents?"

Gina sniffed and wiped an eye. She opened the top of the crate. "You wanted mid twentieth century right? 1985? We fabricated these last night. The metal and plastic was easy peasey but we had some chemical issues with the ammunition. Mercury fulminate is touchy stuff!"

"I thought I heard a bang earlier," Patel said.

"Sue almost lost a finger," Gina said.

Taylor peered into the crate and grinned when he recognized what he saw. He picked up a heavy flat automatic pistol and his hands started clearing it without involving his brain, dropping the magazine and then racking the slide.

"Colt Model 1911A1 pistol designed by John Browning, one of my all time heroes" Gina explained to the other two women. "U. S. military issue for most of the 20th century. Very popular with civilians too."

Taylor pulled out a plastic block holding .45 ACP cartridges and started loading magazines.

Victoria looked into the box and pulled out a small revolver. "This one's cute."

"Smith and Wesson Model 36," Gina said. "Chief's Special. Very reliable but not very accurate. And yeah, I think it's cute too. Too bad you're going back to '85 or I'd have made you a 'Ladysmith.' It's to die for but not available until '89."

Gina passed Victoria a block of .38 Special ammo. The taller woman loaded the revolver and spun the cylinder. She closed it up and started programming the front of her skintights to produce a pocket to hold the deadly little piece. Taylor saw what she was doing and slowly but firmly took the snubby from her hand. He opened the cylinder and pulled out one round. Then he carefully closed it up with the empty chamber under the hammer. "That's not a Mark Twelve. You take a spill and it could go off. That means a bullet bouncing around inside your 'tights."

Victoria nodded understanding and placed the little J-frame in the newly formed pocket on her belly where it perched in perfect outline under the black material just below her belly button. She then made another pocket for spare ammo. Taylor watched in fascination as the rounds wiggled themselves under the tight black fabric into perfect alignment in a diagonal line across her muscular abs. He felt himself getting an erection. Am I a sicko or what? He looked up to see Victoria regarding him with what he thought of as "the look." He felt himself blushing and turned back to Gina.

"Thanks Gina, these are great," Taylor said. "Any way we can get some range time?"

"Not unless you go out on the hull, and it won't do you much good dirt-side, what with the vacuum and Coriolis effect and all."

"Oh well" Taylor said and placed the forty-five in the cargo pocket of his shorts. He dumped a handful of magazines into the other side. "Thank Sue and the rest of your crew for me?"

"Why don't you come down and thank them yourself? They all want to give you a big send off." Gina got up close and personal again. "So do I."

Victoria made throat clearing noises. The two women eyed each other.

Taylor said "I'll try to stop by later Gina."

Victoria muttered "incorrigible."

Taylor glared at Victoria for a second and then bent to give Gina a slow soulful kiss. He murmured "Better skedaddle Gina, before her head explodes—don't want to jeopardize the mission."

"Fuck the mission," Gina said and gave Taylor a fuck me now kiss. But then she released him and walked out of the lab, buns twitching.

Patel said, "If we didn't need her to initiate the device from on board, Gina would have been our clear choice for the team."

"Ouch, I deserved that," Victoria said. "I suppose I have been acting the primadonna."

"A bit," Taylor allowed. "But soon we will be among total strangers and your gloriously haughty attitude may actually be an asset."

"One can only hope," Patel said.

"You thinks so?" Victoria asked. She hooked a finger into a belt loop of Taylor's shorts. "Because nobody does haughty like Victoria Price-Wilcox."

Doctor Patel said "I think you two should go somewhere and perform 'team building exercises' of some sort."

"I agree doctor," Taylor said. "We're going to be working in close confines of one another, so I thought we should work on that."

"What did you have in mind Commander?" Victoria asked with a purr in her voice.

"Just follow me major, and you'll see." Taylor headed out of the lab, Victoria in tow.

"Excuse me," Patel said loudly. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Taylor stalked back in and sheepishly picked up the silver suitcase containing the last and best hope for humanity. Out in the passageway he set it down again and turned to Victoria. He kissed her.

"We are different you and I," he said.

"I am learning to accept that," she said. She kissed him back. "You know I will do anything for the mission, don't you?"

"Hmm?" Taylor's nose was buried in her hair behind her right ear.

"It's very liberating actually," Victoria said. "I will do anything... fuck anyone... for the mission."

Taylor pulled back. "Um..."

Victoria laughed. "Oh not you! I've been wanting to shag you for some time now. Every time you came near I would get this buzz in my... head."

"But you always..."

"That was just my brain screaming at my lady parts 'Mission! Mission!'" She clutched Taylor's face close to hers. "Now my darling amoral tomcat, you and the mission are one."

Taylor grinned. "I can work with that. Come on."