Meddlers In Time total- text version

“Interesting”, said Jenny, “Time we did a little research as to when to make a split- and we are going to need a few more people…”

***

It was a typical Transit day-about 28C and sunny, with a gentle midday breeze blowing. The group had gathered in their picnic area, a collection of outdoor furniture by a small stream. A pool deep enough to swim a few strokes in had been excavated and a neatly groomed earth-stock grass lawn had been established. The aroma of baking pheasant came from the kettle barbecue.

Jenny leaned back in her recliner chair under the shade of The Tree (a large Linden- the only one on the planet at this time) and poured herself a glass of Champagne. “So when and where do we do it?”

“We have a good population base and good mineral resources in the Sheffield area of England”, said Sonja, head of the research team. “Mid-ninth century looks optimal- there are plenty of bad guys for us to defeat, helping us win over the natives.”

“Wouldn’t we be better to go back before the church get a foothold?” said Andrea, the other research specialist.

“I thought about that”, said Wayne, flipping the butt of his cigar into the nearby stream, “But I think it would be better to let the natives see us take the church to the cleaner’s. First we take out the Viking invaders, and then we wait for the church to have a go at us”

Sonja waded out of the shallow stream and took a bottle of lager from the ice chest. “The weather patterns for that period are good, too. They are experiencing a warm period, which has caused a population boom- thus the problem with invaders. Our probes have found an eight day patch of clear weather at the start of spring, 846AD- this gives you the best conditions for establishing the stronghold, for that time of year.”

“Sounds as good a target as I have heard”, said Jenny, “Are we all in favour? - OK, we are off to Jolly Old England.”

“I suppose I had better look up that team I mentioned”, said Wayne, “But first- let’s raise the Jolly Roger again and drink to our success.”

“Here’s to burning the rule book and making up our own.” said Marty.

***

August 2004

‘Another shift done’ thought Mike, as he packed up and headed for the factory gate. Minding a gas boiler was as exciting as watching paint dry, but the mortgage needed paying. 48 years old and I have another 12 left to go on the bloody thing. But forget that- on Saturday I can finally fire up the traction engine after three years work on the restoration. Then listen to the wife bitch and moan about the time he spent on it all Sunday…

***

John Daniells was particularly pissed off today. He had just fired three of his staff for smoking ice on the job. Smoking fucking P in a butchery. “Fucking morons” he exclaimed for about the fifteenth time in the last hour. Four big orders due out this week- he was just starting to make some headway with his gourmet small goods line. Shit, he thought, back working in someone else’s friggin’ kitchen, catering to pretentious arsewipes bitching about their so-called food sensitivities…

***

John French carried the last box into his one bedroom flat. This is it after 20 years, he mused- second-hand furniture and a damp shitbox to live in. And now that bitch wife is sitting pretty in the house I busted a gut for. Fuck her. - Where did I put the whiskey?

***

Steve Anders put the calculator down. $1200 in, $1230 out and that was with 3 extra shifts. Townie wankers living in Auckland go nuts buying country property, so the interest rates get driven up. My pay never matches that, though. I can’t loose the farm now with only 4 years to go…