City Out of Time. William Robison III

City Out of Time - William Robison III


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      CITY

      OUT OF TIME

      By

      William Robison

      Copyright 2014 William Robison III,

      All rights reserved.

      Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com

       http://www.eBookIt.com

      ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-2224-4

      No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

      Dedication

      For My Family

      (For Mom and Dad, Cindy, Heather and Dave)

      Nick Kibre

      (For introducing me to Time Travel)

      And

      My Church Family

      (Past, Present and Future –

      For Keeping Me Sane)

      Acknowledgements

      Lanz Franco is a character that lived in my head for 20 years before I finally had a story to place him in. The saga of his creation is a tale unto itself which I will not elaborate upon in these pages. One thing I always knew about Lanz was that he was a time traveler and that I always wanted him to be a ladies man – both things that I was not. Lanz’s adaption into the character in these pages is due to many influences in my life – as I evolved, Lanz did as well.

      As such, my acknowledgements have little to do with the actual writing of this book (except as noted) and everything to do with the people that have shaped and influenced my life and indirectly the life of Lanz Franco.

      Thank you to Daniel Egusa for hiring me to work for Yasutomo and Company. The many years I’ve been able to spend in a stable work environment have given me ample opportunities to practice my craft in my off hours without worrying about whether the bills were paid.

      Thank you to Lakeside Presbyterian Church of San Francisco for giving me an opportunity to give back to my community and the world. Being a Youth Leader, Choir Singer, and Lay Pastor in training, and allowing me to serve the people of Mississippi and Kenya have changed my life in profound ways.

      And finally thank you to my friends and family who have made my life worth living these many years. It is my hope that these pages will entertain you and perhaps inspire you to do your own part to change the world.

      Specifically, the novel demands that I thank Lia Navarro for listening to my endless story revelations that I’d have while out walking on my break time. When you laughed I knew I’d succeeded. And to Gail Hemenway, who read the early draft of this book and gave me great notes. The final version is much better because of you.

      William Robison

      “These times of ours are serious and full of calamity, but all times are essentially alike. As soon as there is life, there is danger.”

      Ralph Waldo Emerson,

      November 27, 1864

      Prologue

      Mt. Charleston, Nevada

      April 7th, 1996

      Celeste leaned against a tree and watched the local boy scouts lower the flag. Even before the flag reached half mast, she began to pace the still frozen ground in agitation.

      Colonel Buck did not waver in his solid salute until the young bugler had played taps. Then he snapped a crisp salute and slowly turned to face her.

      “Will you stop pacing?” Colonel Buck asked; irritated in her motion.

      Celeste stopped momentarily and then started to pace again.

      “I can’t believe I agreed to this,” Celeste muttered for the hundredth time.

      “You didn’t really have a choice, did you?” Colonel Buck asked. “You’re damned either way, as I understand it.”

      She stopped then, frowned, and then looked at the ceremony below.

      “What a waste,” she said. “If they knew him like I do…”

      “They’d still be flying the flag high,” Colonel Buck finished for her. “I have a great deal of respect for that flag, but sometimes a lie is necessary to protect a greater truth.”

      Celeste looked away from the flag and then, as if making up her mind on the spot, started to walk away from Colonel Buck.

      “Where are you going now?” Colonel Buck asked.

      “I can’t be here,” she said. “I can’t see this.”

      Colonel Buck didn’t feel like contradicting her, nor did he feel like bringing her back. He turned back to watch the ceremony unfolding.

      An honor guard escorted a man to the flagpole where all the other scouts were gathered. The man looked to be in his mid-twenties, in fairly good physical shape, with a shock of thick black hair, kind blue eyes, and an expression of dismay on his face. But there was something more about the man – something off-putting that Colonel Buck couldn’t quite name.

      The man stood in front of the scout master, as they saluted one another and then shook hands. Then the man handed over a sash to the scout master. The scout master took it gently from the man and then turned to the rest of the troop and said a few choice words. Both the scout master and the man let the tears flow from their eyes and the boy scouts all bowed their heads in sorrow.

      “That’s him, isn’t it?” Celeste said from near Colonel Buck’s shoulder.

      “I thought you didn’t want to see this,” Colonel Buck replied.

      “Curiosity… the cat killer…” Celeste countered.

      “Yes,” Colonel Buck said, “That’s him.”

      Celeste looked long and hard at the man and then turned to look Buck in the eye.

      “He looks bored,” Celeste noted. “Are you sure this will work?”

      Colonel Buck looked again at the man and realized what it was that he didn’t like about the way the man looked.

      “No,” Colonel Buck replied. “Not bored. He looks lost – like his whole world is crumbling around him and he doesn’t know which way to turn.”

      “Lost? Bored? At least your job ought to be easy then,” Celeste said.

      “That doesn’t make it any less dangerous,” Colonel Buck noted.

      As a chaplain came forward, the boy scouts escorted the young man to a chair next to the grave. The hundreds of onlookers looked up attentively as the chaplain stood tall and began to speak.

      Colonel Buck turned away from the funeral and started walking into the thin woods on the side of the hill. Celeste had to walk quickly to keep pace.

      “Do you still have the gun?” Colonel Buck asked.

      “Of course,” Celeste answered.

      “Then I think we both know what we have to do, Celeste,” Colonel Buck replied. “While you take care of that gun, I’ll go introduce myself to young Mr. Franco.”

      Celeste hesitated. Colonel Buck stopped and turned back to face her. Without a word, he reached out and took her hands in his.

      “The time for reluctance ended when you joined us,” Colonel Buck noted. “You knew that this day would come. You knew that one day that gun would come to you. I don’t know what fate has in store for you, Celeste, but I do know what


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