Chapter 9

“Ah ... Mr. Doubting Thomas Edwards ... you’re going with me.”

She reached out, touched him and flickered.

“Good Lord ... they really did burn her at the stake ... I always thought Joan was a myth,” Mr. Edwards was dressed as an English missile soldier. Longbow with quiver and assorted arrows, a sword, a dirk, a large hammer and a hodgepodge of battlefield pickup armor. He was ‘Fit’ and haunted looking.

“Well? How long?” I asked.

“Two years,” he said. “We were there two years!”

He blinked. “I didn’t believe you ... now I do.” He turned and said, “Tyche ... what is New Zealand like?”

“Glorious ... just turning to spring. Very green, the mountains on South are snow covered. Skiers are getting in the après-ski parties until the holiday. North students are studying for PATs and Science. I’d be second year secondary ... probably a bundle of hormones ... And cyclone season coming up.” I said. “What was the Hundred Years War like?”

“Bloody ... and bloody awful,” he said. “I’d be dead if it wasn’t for Junior. I got in so much trouble.”

“Easy to do when you have no chance to plan,” Junior said. “At the very least ... I didn’t just ‘drop’ you back then.”

“If I hadn’t had a Masters in Renaissance England History, I’d have been burnt toast ... and most likely well crispy,” Mr. Edwards said. “Witch hunters, everyone of them.

“Wait a minute... ‘drop me back then’ ... you said that with the voice of experience. You’ve done that?”

“I hope to shout,” Junior said. “More than fingers and toes can count. The people the United States of America regularly sent to disrupt the peace and tranquility of The Island weren’t nice. You have no idea how many times I heard, ‘Orders,’ or ‘Just doing my job, you pinko commie bitch,’ from some of the vilest people I’d never hoped to meet. The ones sent to ‘spy and report,’ I dropped in places where they’d be found by other minions ... the ones bent on violence? The Dark Ages ... usually naked ... and afraid.”

She shed a tear. Shook herself and said, “When the former government of the US of A couldn’t rid themselves of the lust for our freedom ... well ... you know what they did. Using her own bomb was poetic justice.”

“Just HOW did you deliver a suitcase nuke to Camp David? That is something that’s been left out of the obituaries.”

“Wasn’t me ... I had cohorts. Can’t call my friend a minion. If anything, I’m its minion.”

The REVEAL

“One thing ... this is so secret ... something the FED A wanted to turn into a weapon but couldn’t move it.”

“Ah ... the silver disk. Area 51. Wait ... it exists?”

“Company!” Junior said, “Hello. Some people I’d like you to meet.”

Introductions made and acknowledged ... the silver saucer turned to the ten year old.

“Hi ... so you are the legendary Tyche Selene Flintkote.”