Book 1, Physics, Lust and Greed Series
Humorous Science Fiction
Date Published: June 15, 2020
Publisher: Acorn Publishing
The year is 2044. Housed in a secret complex beneath the eastern Arizona desert, a consortium of governments and corporations have undertaken a program on the scale of the Manhattan Project to bludgeon the laws of physics into submission and make time travel a reality.
Fraught with insecurities, Marshall Grissom has spent his whole life trying not to call attention to himself, so he can’t imagine he would be remotely suited for the role of time travel pioneer. He’s even less enthusiastic about this corporate time-travel adventure when he learns that nudity is a job requirement. The task would better match the talents of candidates like the smart and beautiful Sheila Schuler, or the bristle-tough and rattlesnake-mean Marta Hamilton.
As the project evolves into a clash between science and corporate greed, conflicts escalate. Those contributing the funding are mostly interested in manipulating time travel for profit, and will stop at nothing, including murder, to achieve their goals.
Excerpt:
W
The
candidates moved from the auditorium to a room arrangement that reminded Marta Hamilton of
college class registration. Eight tables—each manned by several GRC
staff members—stood along the far wall, letters of the alphabet posted above each
table.
Marta
lined up at the G-H-I sign and felt a towering presence behind
her. She glanced to see the goofy man who’d sat next to her on the bus. He
acknowledged her glance with an apologetic smile and a timid half wave. She
returned her attention to the seated staff member, who explained options to the
woman ahead of her.
“You
will now be asked to sign one of two contracts. Both will confine you to this
campus for the next five years. One contract places you in the candidate pool
to become a traveler. The other assigns you to alternate duties at lesser pay. Both contracts include an agreement to
disclose nothing of what you
have heard or seen here and to authorize ongoing surveillance to
ensure your compliance following your tour of duty.”
“I’m
sorry,” the woman said with a quivering voice. “I didn’t know—”
“You
were told your last chance to withdraw occurred before you boarded the bus.”
“But
you didn’t say time travel. You just said—”
“Well,
we couldn’t tell you about the time travel because that part is secret.”
“Do I
have to decide this minute?”
“No,
you have twenty-four hours to make up your mind.”
The
woman bit her lip and absently twisted a lock of her hair. “Can I call my
mother?”
“Like I
said, it’s a secret.”
“But
she wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“Uh,
huh. If you feel you need counseling, go right over there . . .”
He pointed to a table in the corner with a growing line.
“Um . . .
what if I don’t sign either contract?”
The man
smiled. “You’ll be subjected to five years of intense federal supervision.”
The
dazed woman took the information packet and wobbled off toward the counselors.
The man watched her go, and then turned his attention to his line.
“Name?”
“Marta
Hamilton. Spare me the speech. I’m here to join the candidate pool.”
The man
nodded and handed her a sheet from the pile to his left. With a flourish, she
scribbled her name, stepped to the side and challenged Marshall with a glare.
“You
will now be asked to sign one of two contracts . . .”
* * *
Marshall found himself in
line behind the woman he’d sat next to on the bus.
Faced with both her glare and a decision that might be a
matter of life and death, Marshall swallowed hard. He willed his eyes away from
Marta’s, thought of the money, and said to the man, “Does it matter if I’m
allergic to anchovies?”
“What?
No. Of course, not.”
“Oh.
Well . . . okay then.”
That
first day reduced the official travelers’ candidate pool from one hundred and
four to eighty-two. Marshall wasn’t overly concerned. The physicist lady had
used the term some of you. That implied a competition. That meant
some would go, and others would watch. He recalled the sandlot baseball and
touch football games of his childhood.
No one
ever picked Marshall for anything.
About the Author
Mike Murphey is a native of eastern New Mexico and spent almost thirty years as an award-winning newspaper journalist in the Southwest and Pacific Northwest. Following his retirement from the newspaper business, he and his wife Nancy entered in a seventeen-year partnership with the late Dave Henderson, all-star centerfielder for the Oakland Athletics, Boston Red Sox and Seattle Mariners. Their company produced the A’s and Mariners adult baseball Fantasy Camps. They also have a partnership with the Roy Hobbs adult baseball organization in Fort Myers, Florida. Mike loves fiction, cats, baseball and sailing. He splits his time between Spokane, Washington, and Phoenix, Arizona, where he enjoys life as a writer and old-man baseball player.
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