From Here To 1137 AD; Episode 61, Good News, Bad News

This is episode fifty-seven of the novel, From Here To 1137 AD. 

If you would like to purchase, it is available on Amazon in Kindle format or paperback. 

Good News, Bad News

For a reason not known to Tom, he entered the Earth’s solar system. He felt the need to just view Earth. And for a while, fantasize what life for those he knew and loved might be turning out to be. He stopped Hubble at a distance where Earth looked like a tennis ball suspended by nothing on a lit stage in a dark theater. Tiny blue and home.

Tom was awakened from his deep musings by, “A darter is approaching,” Brain said. “It is Gordon.”

It was not unusual for Gordon to visit. It was a part of his duty to check on Tom. They usually spent a couple of hours together and at times as much as a couple of days. These visits kept Tom informed of any progress that was made in the ability to break through the cosmic barrier wrapped around the Earth.

The darter docked, and Gordon walked down the hallway in his usual friendly manner. 

“Tom,” he said, holding out his hand, “I have great news.”

“The Browns are in the Super Bowl?” Tom responded.

They shook hands.

“We’re working on that one,” Gordon said.

“Let’s sit down,” Tom gestured to the chairs in the lounge.

They sat down. Both relaxed and smiled.

“Tom,” Gordon said, “you can go home.”

There was a long pause.

“Isn’t that what you wanted to hear?” Gordon asked.

“I’ve waited twenty years to hear that,” Tom said. “Ten years ago, I gave up. I resigned myself to my current circumstances. I’ve thought about this day, and I convinced myself, I will be out of place, the proverbial square peg in the round hole, the zebra in a herd of horses.”

“Tom,” Gordon said, “if there is one thing I have come to know about you, it is that you are adaptable. To borrow an expression from your day, ‘you can turn on a dime.’

“Everybody has moved on,” Tom said. “Their lives have a rhythm. I would disturb that rhythm.” 

“I have been able to collect some information to let you know what’s going on,” Gordon said. “I won’t bore you with the news items.”

“Brain has helped me keep up with the news and technological advances. I won’t exactly be a fish out of water. Brain is unable to collect the information that is most valuable to me, the personal things. I’m not so sure I want to find out. Life goes on without you, and people die. People change, some for the good and others otherwise.”

Gordon leaned closer. “I’ve researched others who have experienced years in exile from the ones they love and the social structure they have been exiled from. It is common for such individuals not to want to return for a myriad of reasons. Maybe we should talk about what may be holding you back.”

“Can you let me know what has happened to Edgar?”

“Edgar has returned home. He’s no longer in Tristan da Cunha. He and Gene Francis are law partners.”

“Talk about an odd couple,” Tom said.

“Yeah,” Gordon clicked his cheek, “who would have thought?”

“What about the family farm?” Tom asked.

“This is even more difficult to believe,” Gordon said. “Edgar farms it. Of course, that’s a lot for a guy who is a partner in a law firm to handle, so he has an old friend of his help.”

“Dad told me once that Edgar could be a good farmer if he put his mind to it,” Tom said.

“What about Gene Francis?” Tom asked. “How is he and Edgar getting along?”

“Gene’s getting up there,” Gordon said, “but he’s still a top-flight lawyer. Edgar and he get along well.”

“That’s good to hear,” Tom said. “What about the thugs in New York who were after Edgar?”

“That whole syndicate has been broken up,” Gordon said. “Most are in jail or dead.”

“That’s good to hear,” Tom said. “And by the way, how was the problem with passing the cosmic barrier finally resolved?”

“There was a revolt on our planet,” Gordon said. “We supported the revolt. Those responsible have been exiled to an uninhabited planet or killed in the rebellion. As of five days ago, the barrier no longer exists.”

“That’s really good news,” Tom said.

“Why are you avoiding what’s really on your mind?” Gordon asked.

“Maybe it’s because I don’t really want to know,” Tom said.

“I understand,” Gordon said. “There is some information I think you will most definitely want to know.”

“I trust you to be gentle with my emotions,” Tom said.

“The thing is,” Gordon said, “not too much is known about her.”

“What is known?” Tom asked.

“It is something that might change your mind about everything,” Gordon said. “She is in the hospital.”

“Hospital,” Tom confirmed.

“She is dying,” Gordon said. 

For a moment, Tom felt as if all life drained from him. He could hardly muster enough strength to speak. 

“Of what?” Tom asked.

“I don’t know what,” Gordon said, “but you should visit her right away.”

The End Is Near

 The final episode of From Here to 1137 AD is almost here! I truly hope you enjoyed the journey.

So, what’s next?

The next thrilling installment in the Rich Larsen Series is officially complete: Better Late Than Dead. 

  This new story picks up Rich's life two years after returning home as he attempts to pick up the pieces where he left off six years earlier and reestablish a relationship with his parents. But when a shocking murder occurs, Rich becomes the prime suspect. With his situation looking hopeless, he goes on the run as a fugitive to hunt down the real killer.

  The full novel officially launches in digital and print this September. However, if you can't wait to dive in, you can read it early right here! Starting Monday, August 17th, two new episodes will be posted on The Jittery Goat every Monday and Friday.

  Want to skip the wait entirely? Keep an eye out for pre-order links coming soon so you can grab the complete book the moment it drops!.

From Here To 1137 AD; Episode 60, A Man Without A Planet

This is episode Sixty of the novel, From Here To 1137 AD. 

If you would like to purchase, it is available on Amazon in Kindle format or paperback. 

A Man Without A Planet

Brain informed Tom that Gordon was approaching in a darter. Instead of instaporting aboard, Gordon used the docking station and attached the darter to the pod.

Gordon walked up an aisle from the rear of the pod into the lounge. 

“How are you?” Tom smiled. “It’s good to see you.”

“I’m doing well,” Gordon said. “And I know all about you. I understand you kept Thomas Bales from a sword fight with Bouchard and arranged for Bouchard to meet his demise. Mission accomplished. The Bales’ family lineage lives on, and Bouchard’s comes to an abrupt finish, mission accomplished.”

“I see you don’t have a model,” Tom pretended to look for something that Gordon might have with him.

“I wanted to speak personally,” Gordon said.

“Sure,” Tom said, “let’s sit. Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thanks,” Gordon said.

They sat in chairs across from each other.

“You have something troubling on your mind, don’t you?” Tom said. 

“I do,” Gordon said.

“Don’t tell me I have to return to 1137 and fix something,” Tom said. “Did I mess something up?”

“You did fine,” Gordon said. “You made decisions that only confirmed you were the right person to entrust this pod to and the mission you just completed.”

“In a way,” Tom joked, “I hoped you were here to fire me.”

Gordon paused and moved around on his chair as if he were uncomfortable. He forced a friendly grin.

“What is it, Gordon?”

“There is no easy way to put this,” Gordon said.

“Well, put it in anyway you like.”

“You can’t return to your home,” Gordon said and stared at Tom.

“Did something happen to the farm?”

Gordon glanced away as if the words he needed were etched on the wall.

“Oh no!” Tom said. “You mean Earth, something has happened. Is there still life there?”

“No,” Gordon said, “nothing that drastic.”

“Then what?”

“Our enemies,” Gordon said, “those who are after us, they were able to cast a cosmic barrier around Earth.”

“Exactly what does that mean?”

“If anything approaches the barrier, our enemies will know, and know what it is,” Gordon said. “They will come immediately. That could bring dire consequences for Earth.”

“Is there any way I can return to Earth?”

“No,” Gordon said.

“Tell me more about this.”

“We are not sure of the strength of the cosmic barrier,” Gordon said. “At the least, they are notified. Or, and this is something we can’t be certain, the moment the pod touches the barrier, the pod and everything in it will be reduced to cosmic dust in an instant.”

“Gordon, I have a life to return to,” Tom pleaded. “I think that was a part of the deal.”

“You have no idea how much this bothers me to tell you this,” Gordon said.

“I thought it was beyond the realm of possibility,” Tom said. “You assured me that the galaxy I’m from was like a blind spot in the universe. That they would never find it. They did not even know of its existence. How did this happen?”

“I’m not holding anything back from you,” Gordon said. “We made a mistake. That’s it!”

“Mistake! How is that possible? You’re supposed to be so much more advanced,” Tom mocked. “You have computers that know everything. This is more than a mistake; it’s colossal incompetence.”

Gordon remained calm. “You are right.”

“I have plans. I have friends. I have a brother marooned on an island in the middle of the Atlantic. I have someone who loves me. I promised I would return. I have property. I have a life that I gave up to stop something in a distant galaxy that may or may not happen. How could I have been so stupid?”

“If we had any idea at all that this was going to occur,” Gordon said, “we would not have approached you. I would have never sent you anywhere.”

“What do I do? Where do I go? What is next?”

“We are working on several solutions,” Gordon said.

“I didn’t ask what you are doing,” Tom said.

“You can visit another galaxy and establish a life there until a solution is found,” Gordon suggested. “There are several planets that would be suitable for you.”

“Let’s not go there quite yet. You see, I’m curious,” Tom said. “I know I’m a mere twentieth-century farmer, but dumb it down for me. What solutions are you working on, if any?”

“Everything is in the formative stages at this point,” Gordon said.

“Translation to a farmer,” Tom said sarcastically, “you ain’t got a clue.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Gordon said. “A proposal has been made that a hole in the barrier might be made without disturbing its integrity and sending out a signal or alarm. Another possibility is that in the past we have been able to develop a cosmic residue that would render such a barrier ineffective, yet still send a signal that it is still operational and effective.”

“As fulfilling and reliable as a politician’s promise,” Tom said sarcastically. “Let me guess, I get to be the test dummy.”

“I sympathize with your frustration,” Gordon said.

“You have not one clue,” Tom said and turned away from Gordon. Never had Tom felt such revulsion. It was not so much directed at Gordon as to what he assumed was the hidden pathology behind the web that he found himself hopelessly entangled.

“Tom,” Gordon said sincerely, “if I had any twinge that something like this would have come along, I would have never been a part of this. Things not even conceived cannot be avoided. None of us was prepared for this.”

 Tom turned back to face Gordon. His face seemed to melt into an everlasting sadness. “Gordon, what do I do? What does a man do when all his future is reduced to nothing and all purpose has been erased?”

“Tom,” Gordon said. “I know you. You will find all you need to get through this. Others are working beyond what you know.”

“I do believe you,” Tom said, “but that does little to change anything.”

“Find something to do,” Gordon said. “There are so many things to see that will enrich you.”

“You don’t seem to understand,” Tom said, “I don’t need enrichment, power, advanced knowledge, all the things you worship and hold dear. I just don’t need them. I want to return to my farm, plant, cultivate, and harvest. I want to see Debbie, marry her, and have children. The next glitch in the universe, find another chump. Come to think about it, why don’t you stick your neck out? Find yourself a project that will take you back in time and see how you do.”

Gordon stood and motioned to the rear of the pod. “I’m going to go now. I think it’s best I leave you alone for a while. I’ll be in communication and keep you up to date on any progress that’s being made.”

“Come to think of it,” Tom said, “our situations are the same. You and your friends cannot return to your planet. And you had to come back to a time and place…” Tom paused. “I had to maneuver events in 1137 to save Thomas Bales from the death by the sword of Drake Bouchard. And you came to now to save me from being killed before having offspring. How close am I?”

Gordon’s nod affirmed what Tom said. “And Edgar also.”

“Both our lives were in danger?”

“Yes,” Gordon said.

“Do you still have surnames in your time?”

“Yes,” Gordon said.

“And it is Bales?”

“Yes,” Gordon said.

“And I am your grandfather by how many generations?” Tom asked.

“Too many to count,” Gordon gave a slanted smile.

Tom stood and gripped Gordon’s hand. 

“You track me, right?” Tom said.

“We do,” Gordon said. 

“Good, I don’t want to get lost.”

“You’ve got Brain,” Gordon smiled.

“How long do things like this take?” Tom asked.

“It could be a long time before we can come up with a viable solution,” Gordon said. “A year or more. But we could get lucky and have something in a week or two.”

“Gordon, have a safe trip.”

“You too.”

Gordon walked back down the hallway. In the docking station, he climbed back into the darter and was soon many light-years away.

“Brain,” Tom said, “a lot of things are going to change around here.”

“Do I detect a bit of humor in your tone?” Brain said.

“You do,” Tom affirmed. “The first order of business is that the name of this pod will be Hubble.”

“A fitting name,” Brain said. 

“Here’s a rather universal-like command,” Tom said. “For the time being, let’s make a sharp right turn and cruise for about ten days. We’ll see where we’re at then, and see what we can do.”

The Hubble streaked away into the distant cosmos at a speed greater than light. During the next twenty years, it traveled far. Tom had many experiences. He found no civilizations as advanced as the one that provided Hubble for him. 

From Here To 1137 AD; Episode 59, Back To Here

This is episode fifty-nine of the novel, From Here To 1137 AD. If you would like to purchase, it is available on Amazon in Kindle format or paperback. 

Back To Here

The earl declared the royal court adjourned. The nobles were dismayed, and the peasants quietly gleeful.

Servants and guards immediately began to move tables and benches from the castle’s storage rooms into the great hall. They prepared for the nobles to enjoy a feast. It was customary after each monthly court session. 

The nobility, who remained for the feast, hoped that this might be the feast that the earl overindulged to the point of death. With Bouchard out of the way, perhaps one of their families might inherit the king’s favor and be granted the earldom. In previous feasts, nobles gazed at the earl’s every bite, hoping it might be the one that was the limit of his gluttony. Thus, this feast might hold special significance.

The peasants trickled down from the balcony with hidden smiles and made their way out of the castle. They slowly streamed back to their hamlets and peasant lives. They took with them a satisfactory memory of the dastardly Drake Bouchard’s public humiliation. 

None was more pleased than Lattice and Thomas. As they made their way back to their hamlet and home, friends and neighbors bid them good tidings. Their stain, which all knew did not exist, was now a matter of public acknowledgment. It can now be affirmed that Lattice was and always is an honorable woman. 

Without a word to anyone, Tom hurried back to the waiting room. The constable sat on the bench waiting for him. 

“I want you to sit there,” Tom ordered the constable. “I am going to step out of the room, and I will be back before you can count to one hundred.”

Tom stepped outside the room. He summoned Brain for the healing device. It was immediately instaported to Tom. 

Tom stepped back into the room with the device.

“I only counted to thirty-two,” the constable said.

“I had no idea I could do it so fast,” Tom said.

“What is that?” The constable asked, nodding toward the device in Tom’s hands.

“It will repair your wrist,” Tom said. “Lay your hand and wrist flat on the bench.”

The constable laid his hand and wrist flat on the bench. Tom removed the bandage and wood splints. Tom started to place the device on the constable's wrist. The constable jerked his hand away.

“Ahhh!” The constable howled in pain. “What are you going to do?”

“Trust me,” Tom said. 

The constable laid his hand and wrist back on the bench. Tom placed the device on top of the constable’s wrist. The constable kept a suspicious eye on Tom and the device.

“You will feel a sting, not nearly as bad as a bee, and a tingling that might even tickle,” Tom said, “but don’t move. It will be over before you can count to thirty-two.”

The constable continued to appear nervous and uncomfortable. 

“Let me count for you,” Tom said. He counted to thirty, and three beeps came from the device. “I need to improve.”

Tom removed the device. “There you go.”

The constable rubbed his wrist and moved it around. “It is healed. How did you do that?”

“It is called advanced medicine,” Tom said.

“I don’t know what that means,” the constable said. “Are you a sorcerer?”

“No, I am a friend,” Tom assured. “Now, can you show me a back way out of here so nobody will notice?”

“Follow me,” the constable said. 

And he led Tom to an underground passage leading to a small door at the rear of the castle.

“I will be on my way,” Tom grinned. “Take care of yourself, and as a favor for healing your arm, see that no harm comes to Thomas’s or Lattice’s way.”

“Be assured,” the constable said and asked, “You are leaving without some sort of celebration?”

“Yes, I should leave without notice,” Tom said, and gripped his wrist in a gesture of friendship.

“Not so tight?” The constable quipped.

Tom hurried away. At times, he jogged. He came upon a small gorge and carefully made his way down its slope to the bottom. He turned completely around and scanned the surrounding landscape. He saw no one.

“Brain, Instaport me back to the pod,” Tom said and commanded, “Ready.”

Tom experienced a slight quiver followed by an instant of darkness, and he was safely standing in the secure surroundings of the pod’s Instaport station.

“Brain,” Tom said,  “Coffee, black, Panama, Geisha, thick white diner’s cup.”

He walked to the food replicator and retrieved the coffee he ordered. He walked forward and sat in the captain’s chair. He exhaled and relaxed.

“Brain, it is so good to be back. But I know from time to time, Lattice and Tom will cross my thoughts. I never thought I’d ever become attached to them.”

He took a slow sip of coffee and smiled. “I’m not returning to England until the mid-seventeenth century—that’s when coffee was introduced. I will never crave twelfth-century mead and ale.”

Brain said, “If you are ever nostalgic…”

“No!” Tom interrupted and sipped. “Let’s go back to my galaxy and my Earth.” 

“Processing and ready,” Brain said.

“At anytime,” Tom responded.

During the next minute, a few slight jolts occurred that hardly brought a ripple to the surface of the coffee in his cup.

“I don’t suppose we have a good tailwind on the way back?” Tom quipped.

“We will arrive on the fifth day,” Brain advised.

“I should have stayed for the feast at the great hall,” Tom said. “Roast peacock, breast of swan, poached capon, pickled pig's ear, and my personal favorite, roasted hedgehog with lamprey cooked in its own blood.”

“I detect a hint of humor,” Brain replied. “If you really relish them, those items can be replicated.”

“Yeah, Brain,” Tom said, “a little levity to ease my tension. However, a pizza with pepperoni, mushrooms, and onions would hit the spot.”

“Any time you wish,” Brain said.

“Give me a couple of hours to wind down,” Tom said. “In the meantime, remove the MAS and get me some comfortable clothes. Lenin boxers don’t cut it.”