This one's for Annie

For Anna Woolfe:

I wrote this one night last year- it will be expanded and go into one of my future 'Meddlers In Time' series.


Collecter of Souls

Sandra was dying.

At 3am the body ebbs lowest and Sandra was having to concentrate on her breathing. The cancer was in it’s final stage, having long since metastasized and the Morphine pump was no longer keeping pace with the pain. She instinctively knew that her time was near.

Sandra knew that the end was inevitable- even welcome at this time, yet still she fought with what remained of her fading strength. Each new breath a battle against pain, each new breath the tiniest bit harder than the one before. Nothing remained but to breathe. There was no capacity left to think, to speculate- to reminisce.

***

At 3am, there was little activity in the hospice, but Sandra felt a presence in the room and forced her eyes open. She was correct- a man stood at her bedside. She had never seen him before- a tall, powerfully built man of an indeterminate age looked silently down at her. He had the look of a person who knew exactly what he was doing and gave off an air of quiet competence.

He raised what looked like a medical instrument to her neck and there was a soft hissing noise. Beyond belief, her pain melted away for the first time in months! It was a sensation as if cool, pure water had been pumped through every part of her body, washing away the agony.

Able to speak now, she asked “Who are you?”

He gave a quick smile. “I’m a… consultant that they sometimes use here. Do you feel better?”

“Yes, thank you- I feel quite better now!”

“It won’t last” he replied. “The injection will only work for a short time, in which I need to talk to you about your future”

“I’m dying” replied Sandra flatly. “I have no future”

The stranger gave that little smile again. “Your body is dying, but that is of no consequence. I’m here to make an offer for your soul!”

Sandra’s eyes widened. “Who are you- the devil?” she whispered.

Again the smile and a chuckle. “That would really depend on the circumstances under which you met me. Let me introduce myself- Wayne Jamieson. An angel to some and indeed- the devil to others!”

Sandra remained silent

Wayne continued. “You are dying- you will be unconscious in six hours and will be dead within two days. I want what is colloquially known as your soul- the intangible you. You have something I want and I have something you need- more life. But it’s your choice and there is a price for you to pay.”

“I want more life” Sandra exclaimed “The cost I will pay.”

“But don’t you want to know the price?” Wayne quietly asked.

“What matters the price for more life?” she replied.

“Good answer! And it’s not forever, as the legends might have it- in your case, the price is ten years service- a standard contract with us.”

“Then I accept!”

“Before you accept, I shall inform you of the terms, which are not onerous. Firstly, your soul will be relocated into a new young adult body as you once had.

Secondly, you will do my or my associates bidding for the next ten years.

Thirdly, given that you are dead, you will never return to this world unless by approval of myself and this will not be readily given.”

“Where will I go?”

“To another world, another time and you have my assurances that it is a most hospitable place.”

Again Wayne gave that enigmatic grin and added “It has be described as heaven by some and your presence may help to make it more so!”

“Oh really!- I’m just a hairdresser!”

Wayne gently took her hand. “A hairdresser is just the sort of person to make my home into a slice of heaven- for my lady associates. Will you come with me?”

“And why not!” said Sandra, now thinking she was in an opiate dream.

Wayne unfolded a case and removed what looked like a platinum tiara. Placing it gently on her head, he opened another larger case. "This will be like a dream”, he cautioned, “In time you will awake in a new body- now remember this- for a while you won’t be able to make your new body do anything- you have to establish the new connections, but this will only take an month or so.”

Raising another injector to her neck, Wayne activated the doser, shooting a cocktail of hypnotic drugs into Sandra’s bloodstream, then started the upload. He sat quietly for a time, watching Sandra sleeping peacfully, then removed the tiara and closed the two cases. Picking them up, he walked to the nurses station.

***

The duty nurse looked up to see the familiar face. By now she was well used to the enigmatic Wayne’s Jamieson's comings and goings. He handed her an envelope. “By way of thanks” he said.

“Sandra’s time has come then” Elenor stated.

“Yes” he quietly acknowledged.

“I’m glad you came for here- I really liked Sandra! 48 years old- she was too young to die!”

“They all are” he replied.

Wayne picked up his cases and headed back to Sandra’s room, where Elenor knew he would disappear from.

“Goodnight, my angel of death” she whispered. “When my time comes, I just hope you will come for me…”

***

Back in the hospice room, Sandra’s body slid even faster towards it’s final moments, now free from all pain. Her children would be comforted by the peaceful appearance of her now vacant body. Wayne paused briefly by the body, then passed though the gate field with Sandra’s soul.

Into a new place, a new time and a new beginning.

Wayne Watson- A Bio

Born in 1960, it can be said that I was born into one of the more interesting periods in our history. Forty-nine years on, I can certainly say that I have led an interesting life. Factory hand, soldier, technician, labourer, manager, ambulance officer, corrections officer- just to name the main jobs - I think I can truly call myself a jack-of-all-trades

It’s been up and down all the way- see-sawing between dirt poor and well-off- in the peak of fitness to near dead a couple of times. I have worked with many fine individuals and many of New Zealand’s worst. I have seen very ordinary people succeed beyond all expectations and watched those destined to do great things fall and loose everything. Working in areas like defense, corrections and ambulance you get a real insight into how people act and react under the most extreme of circumstances. Along the way I got to use a lot of really interesting bits and pieces- the Army was good for that- if a new piece of kit came through the workshops- it wasn’t hard to convince somebody that you needed to try it out!

This was a useful background for somebody who wishes to write tales of adventure…

Now, like most, I have settled into a quieter life of family and work, with adventure left in the past- although it comes to visit from time to time. I wish it wouldn’t!

As life slowed down a little, from the needs of raising a family and an accumulation of old injuries, I started to amuse myself in a fantasy universe distilled from the many tales I had absorbed over the years- this beats the hell out of morning radio while stuck in traffic! This stepped up a gear after a bad car smash left me recovering from multiple injuries over two years. From this period came ‘Meddlers in Time’- my escape from the realities of my life. Writing this story down probably saved my sanity!

Nowadays, I’m back at work- spending more time than I would like keeping the local water supplies working. Once a week I get my six-guns out and shoot up a bit of paper and steel plate. Twice a year I fire up my still and run a few gallons of moonshine, although I drink more coffee than whiskey these days. The rest of the time I spend as an indentured servant to my wife and two boys.

I’m occasionally described as a grumpy old sod and a know-it-all, with an opinion on EVERYTHING! I try to live up to that.

I like the simple pleasures of red meat, black powder smoke, Islay whiskey and the occasional good Dominican cigar- all to be savored in the outdoors. By beliefs are staunchly libertarian- each to their own if they harm no other. I believe that politicians, lawyers, busy-bodies and do-gooders are like salamis- greatly improved by hanging for a time.

My writings continue as time permits.

A short precuror to Meddlers In Time

This short piece was written while I was putting the storyline of MIT together:

Meandering in the Time Streams

Those who navigate the flow of time often find themselves in…unusual circumstances.

The traveler may move by mechanical or arcane means, but however they step outside the flow, they will take on an innate ability to be subjected to the whims of an eddy of time. A fate only that only happens to the Time-Traveler. Our great privilege- and our curse.

My latest impromptu sojourn was perhaps the one that has had the most impact on me- so far. I will carry the memories of this brief interlude for the rest of my days…

***

As the experienced traveler knows, there are subtle changes when he or she shifts from the main flow. They differ for all of us, but for myself, I start to notice the occurrence of the surreal. I find myself in places I know have never existed, with improbable- sometimes bizarre surroundings.

I’m one of the lucky ones who slip gently into my new place as easily as falling asleep, or more correctly, like waking from dozing off during the day.

This time, the transition was to a vague place in the past, with the familiar feel of somewhere I had been before. I knew I had shifted when I saw a man who was out of time. He belonged some 25 years further forward in this flow.

I was in my body of this time- one half the age of my usual form and in somewhat better condition. I wore a uniform- starched green cotton and long black boots but carried no weapon. I was moving about the edge of what had been a parade- some kind of medal presentation had taken place. I was on onlooker, not a part of this occasion.

Then I saw her.

My old friend from the past- but something was different about her. It’s hard to say how, but one traveler can always tell another- she was indeed now a traveler! Like me, she was in her body of this time. I knew her well, but not as a traveler.

She too was dressed in an Army uniform of the 1970’s, but even that failed to detract from her beauty. After 25 years, everything about her came back to me- her voice, the smell of her hair- the times we spend together, neither bold enough to make the move from being friends to lovers.

Her eyes met mine and we moved together. I don’t think a word was said- we just looked into each other’s faces, our eyes and expressions saying all that needed to be said. In her eyes I saw regret at a past opportunity missed, the years wondering how it could have been and a longing- a longing so strong it had given her strength to break free from the singularity-like pull of time. In those moments I saw every pore of her skin on her young, unlined face, the faint hint of tears and the look of wanting- of being barely able to contain the whole spectrum of emotions.

She saw the same in my eyes. The sleepless nights wondering how we drifted apart, the self-reproach for letting her go- the finally finding a love that was lost. That with age and time, I had come to realize that there was nobody better, nor would there ever be.

She threw her arms around me, and kissed me with all her strength and psssion- it felt like she was pulling me into her. The rest of this world faded into insignificance.

“Come with me” was all she said.

We found our way to her room- a motel room by the look of it. Inside we tore at our clothes, both knowing we needed to hurry before time caught up with us and moved us back where it thought we belonged.

We made love in a frantic, hurried twining of bodies, both wanting as much as we could get before we were torn apart as must happen. Trying to keep as much of our bodies pressed together in contact with each other, as if that could stall our inevitable parting

As we lay there embracing, caressing, we spoke of our mutual regrets of the past now that we knew how things could have been- and how we wished they were.

My last recollection was of the creamy soft skin of her naked body- then the room changed and I knew I was back in the time I had come from.

Our all too brief moment was over.

But now I knew how she truly felt- feels!

She is out there, somewhere and I will find her- or she will find me.

Now that we both knew what we had suspected for so long!

News Flash!

Meddlers in Time has MOVED!

Bookhabit has been sold to Smashwords and the book has migrated there.

Available at $4.00 US and I'm cutting me own throat here!

BUT

The preview freebie is now a huge 25% of the book!

The interview continues...

Can you give us a few hints as to what is coming up?

The back story continues- in the future! Most of the next book is set in an intersteller empire, in the 35th century. This is a challenge, creating a whole new society! You will see some of the events and circumstances that have shaped the main characters.

So there will be more character development?

Yes, they continue to grow as the story unfolds. It had been remarked that my main characters did not act as might be expected, say, to having just been in a major battle. The reasons for that will become apparent. Jamieson may have appeared a bit too laid back in the first book- you will find that the events of that story are a bit of a holiday for him!

Do you have a favorite character?

Jamieson for sure- I would like to be him! But all the main ones are old friends to me now. It's my story and my fantasy too! Jenny is fun to write and I'm about to start on her back story, which promises a few twists.

Ok- you are a super rich time traveller- why bother with building sheds in the ninth century?

Part of this is that I'm exploring the lives of people who are practically immortal. I put myself into their situation and I would soon tire of living the life of luxury. They are doing what many so in their spare time- going primitive in the hills with reenactor groups, learning obsolete trades and crafts- becuse they have the luxury of the time and money to do so. You have do do a days hard work to really appreciate a few beers!

I could have had them using futuristic construction equipment, fighting of the bad guys with x-ray lasers and building automated robotic factories- but where is the fun in that!

I noticed that you don't really describe the physical look of the characters.

Probably an oversight on my part- as I can visuallise them perfectly! In any case, the reader with imagination will visualise them as they wish.

So how do you see them?

Physically- Jamieson would resemble Sean Connery in his forties. Jenny is Kara Thrace aka 'Starbuck' from the new BSG and Sonja is Number Six! Jane is Sigourney Weaver. They all hold their apperances to 'a well-perserved forties' look, despite being well into their second centuries. Tom looks like one of the chaps seen on the cover of the Biggles books.