Timeline Repair: Attack on America

Timeline Repair:

Attack on America

By Rex Lee Applegate

Copyright 2013 Rex Lee Applegate

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Round One - Benedict Arnold and the Second Revolutionary War

Round Two - King George and the German Empire

Round Three - Richelieu, the Huguenots and New France

Preview

Timeline Repair: Attack on England

Round Four - The Battle of Britain and Red Europe

ROUND ONE:

BENEDICT ARNOLD AND THE SECOND REVOLUTIONARY WAR

THE MESSED UP BATTLE OF NEW YORK

Manhattan Island West of Kips Bay – August 23, 1776. George Washington's horse stumbled and fell after being hit in the flank by a British musket ball. The startled beast lunged, reared and rolled over on the General, folding him backwards and snapping his neck. He was killed instantly. This ended the last hope for a break out by the Continental Army, now trapped on Manhattan. The Revolutionary War was over, for the time being.

Moments before I had been reading the Washington Record and found the General consumed with anger. Not at the British, who had moved with surprising speed, but at himself for being slow to see the danger. Having landed at Kips Bay the day before, the Red Coats had raced across the narrow waist of Manhattan, blocking the way off the island.

Washington had exhorted his troops to a furious assault on the British lines. I am such a fool, he thought. I must fix this! The Americans pushed on with determination, anger and terror against volley fire from three ranks of meticulously deployed British infantry. They were cut down with each explosion of noise and smoke, and as the attack wavered Washington spurred forward. Then his horse was hit. The remnants of the assault retreated with his body. I got out of Washington's Record just in time and saw the disastrous fall from the eyes of an onlooker.

I backtracked and scanned British Records, looking to see if it had been a sniper with a rifle who had shot the General's horse. Maybe I could put a little Push on him and cause a miss. No such luck. All I found were ranks of automatons, mindlessly executing their firing drill with deadly precision. No one actually aimed at Washington's horse, it was just a volley bullet sent in the direction of the American front. Although it had probably already been too late, my hope for a simple, easy fix, was gone.

I checked the Record of General Henry Clinton, the British field commander. He watched the battle from a hill beyond American weapons range. His mind was occupied with military planning, how to slide reserves and thicken his lines in front of any American attempts to attack farther west. Underneath this methodical thinking, however, was exultation. Yes, he thought, this is it. Their audacious gamble had paid off, the rebellion crushed and glory awaited. As expected, no evidence of tampering. It was all on the American side.

Of course, in True History it didn't happen this way. The Continental Army had retreated up Manhattan three days earlier and there had been no major battle anywhere near Kips Bay. Someone had meddled, and now it was my job to repair the timeline. It wasn't going to be easy, exact, or free of bumps.

BUMPS IN HISTORY

History is full of bumps - knobs and protuberances that stick out from an otherwise smooth flow of events and cause historians to scratch their heads and ask themselves, What the hell? People made decisions, did things, or otherwise acted in ways that make no sense. What was Custer thinking at Little Big Horn? Why did Napoleon invade Russia? What happened with Robert E. Lee and Pickett's Charge? Faced with these enigmas, chroniclers often concoct elaborate scenarios to explain, but these efforts are rarely convincing and the episodes remain historical mysteries.

I used to think these bumps came from the vagaries of the human mind and personality. People just do stupid, inexplicable things and that is the way it is. Now I know better. Now I know that sometimes they are the result of timeline tampering, both the initial disruptions and actions by people like me to repair the damage. It is rarely possible to put things back exactly as they were and the resulting debris can be puzzling to historians.

Such was the case with the 1776 Battle of New York. Yes, I fixed it on the broad scale, got things back on the main track, but the Restored History is messy. Sorry about that. It was my first job and I did the best I could.

THE PORTAL AND TIMELINE TAMPERING

Recruitment

Drex Portal - Present Day. My introduction to timeline repair came on a Saturday morning as I read the news on my tablet. It was quiet in the house. The kids and wife were asleep upstairs as I sipped my coffee and scanned the list of stories. One item caught my attention:

Local teacher recruited for timeline repair.

What? I thought. This should be good. I touched on it and was shocked to see my picture (from facebook) leading the story:

Lincoln High School history teacher Harry Frankel is being recruited to assist the Drex in their on-going efforts to repair disrupted timelines. Program head Dr. Johnathan Pretorius said yesterday that Frankel, 36, has been identified as an ideal candidate, noting that the counterfactual research projects he assigns in teaching history display the mental flexibility necessary to excel at this arduous and difficult task.

I looked up from the tablet and laughed. Wow! The kids have really done it. I promised myself to give some surreptitious extra credit to any of my students involved in the stunt. Then I went back to the story.

Dr. Pretorius added that Mr. Frankel will be transported to the Drex control room as soon as he finishes breakfast. It is suggested he do a search on Drex timeline repair to familiarize himself with the project.

I went to Google and queried. Only one article came up, not from Wikipedia:

Drex timeline repair: A program initiated by a group of peace loving academics from the far future. Although the Drex were initially involved solely in historical research, recent evidence of time tampering has led to a refocus on timeline repair. A key component of this effort is the enlistment of contemporaries from effected timelines to provide assistance in this very complex and nuanced task.

As I gaped in admiration for such a magnificent prank, the kitchen faded away and was replaced by new surroundings.

In a blink I was in a large room dominated by twenty foot high banks of 1950s style computers, complete with gauges and blinking lights. I sat at a grey metal counter centered in front of the machines.

After a few moments it hit me. Drex…Pretorius! This was the control room from the 1956 science fiction classic, Angry Planet. The movie told of an expedition to study the ruins of an ancient alien civilization on Draco III, twenty-nine light years from Earth. Pretorius was part of a team of archeologists who excavate the pristine Drex control room and accidently activate a killer robot left over from the war that destroyed the planet. However, this was not a movie set; it had been fully recreated in exquisite 360-degree detail.

Never heard of the movie? Yeah, sorry about that. It's from the original timeline. After Round Four repairs, MGM made a different one.

I heard a noise from behind and turned to see a thick, grey door snick open. A smiling Dr. Pretorius entered. The look was perfect, tall with wavy, brown hair; thick eyebrows accenting Hollywood good looks; elegant in khaki work clothes.

Hello, Mr. Frankel, he said, reaching to shake my hand. Welcome to the Drex control room! I am Pretorius.

His voice was also impeccable, the same light hint of sophisticated English aristocracy that was the trademark of Peter Lawford, the actor who played Pretorius. He is best remembered as part of Frank Sinatra's Rat Pack and as JFK's brother-in-law.

Your Pretorius is very impressive, I said, accepting his handshake.

His smile broadened. I'm glad you feel this way. I tried so very hard to get it right! Then in a quieter tone, And please accept my apologies for interrupting your Saturday morning. Believe me when I say it has been done for a very important reason.

It had better be good, I replied. What is going on here? Have I been drugged?

Pretorius frowned in concern. Mr. Frankel, be assured, all will be explained to your satisfaction. We mean you no harm. He smiled. But first let's take a tour. It will help you understand.

He walked towards the door. I got up and followed. We passed through a dusty, rock strewn corridor and emerged into the excavation work pavilion. Various plastic and metal instruments shared tables with notebooks and strange glass artifacts. One side of the tent opened to an arid hillside. I paused to take in the scene.

Please, Pretorius gestured to the entrance, You've got to see this!

We went outside. I stopped short in stunned silence. A desiccated alien landscape of rocks, red sand and jagged brown, lifeless mountains stretched across the horizon. Framed by this were the blasted, ruined spires of an ancient Drex city. To the left, an impossibly huge white moon hung in a pale green sky. A dry, biting breeze blew over me. I gasped with the realization. I was on Draco III.

Pretorius saw my discomfort and smiled apologetically.

Please, Mr. Frankel, relax. It is an illusion, a virtual creation.

I shook my head. Wait a minute. I slowly scanned the vista, then squatted and took a handful of the sharp pebbly soil, running it through my fingers. "This is more real, more vivid than any virtual reality I've heard of."

Yes, you are right. It is quite beyond your experience. Let's go back in and I shall explain. We went into the tent and sat at a table.

I said nothing. Pretorius waited. I craned my neck to look around, grinned and asked, Is Aris here? Aris was Pretorius's nubile young assistant, played to voluptuous perfection by Anne Francis.

Pretorius laughed and shook his head. No, Mr. Frankel. For now it's just you and me. But I am heartened by the question. Shall I begin?

By all means. I sat back.

Pretorius started. Mr. Frankel, as I said, this is a virtual scenario. Your corporeal body is still asleep in your bedroom at home, where it is 4 a.m. precisely. And no matter how much time seems to pass while you are with us here, when you return it will still be 4 a.m. He smiled hopefully. I looked back in confusion.

Yes, he said, It is complicated. Let me show you how it works. Are you ready for a demonstration?

I nodded, and my surroundings faded.

Being John Malkovich (Almost)

Egypt, 2542 BCE. I found myself in a different place and in a different person. I saw what he saw and the view was stunning. Stretching before me was a dusty desert landscape dominated by a giant pyramid, its polished limestone casing radiant against a brilliant blue sky. Though the huge structure stood alone, I knew where I was, and when - Giza, circa 2500 BCE.

I was in awe, but the mind and body I shared had more mundane concerns. I knew him, somehow, to be Hemiunu, chief architect of the Great Pyramid. As he gazed from his pavilion upon the enormous structure, he focused on the remnants of a huge earthen ramp that had been used to drag stone blocks up the side of the tomb. The workers taking it down, he saw, appeared fewer and slower than normal. No doubt Pharaoh will notice, he thought.

His thoughts were in Egyptian, but I understood them clearly. My mind buzzed.

"Mr. Frankel, this is Pretorius. Can you hear me? The voice came in my head. Just sub vocalize,"

"Yes Pretorius, I hear you." It was easy.

"Very good Mr. Frankel. Relax and enjoy the scene. I believe you will find it quite interesting."

Hemiunu bowed as a group entered the pavilion. As expected, it was Khufu with his entourage of hangers-on and sycophants. Resplendent in robes and gold, the middle-aged Pharaoh wasted no time getting down to business.

Growling at the still bowing Hemiunu, Khufu asked, Why is the team on the East ramp undermanned and dawdling about?

My Lord, Hemiunu looked up, The team's devotion to their Pharaoh overcame them yesterday in the celebration of your jubilee. The effects of their strenuous exultations have had a minor and very temporary impact. We will be back on schedule within two days. Though Hemiunu's voice was nervously obsequious, he felt no stress.

"Pretorius, is this real?" I asked.

"Yes, indeed, he answered. You are visiting the consciousness of a living being - seeing and sensing exactly what he does in life. Don't worry; your reading of his Record is undetectable."

Hah! Khufu responded. Hemiunu, you rotund pile of fly ridden camel dung, they drank too much beer! The Pharaoh glared while the officials standing behind nodded in agreement.

Truly Lord, Hemiunu replied, "Pharaoh's perceptive insights have again revealed your humble servant's inexcusable incompetence. Be assured he will learn from