law.”
“ Are you coming back?”
“ Yes, soon. Maybe someday. Probably not.”
“ Don’t bother,” advised Chief Stone-Claw, staking his claim by carving a Nike Swooshstika onto a large old growth cedar tree. “We’re staying. I want nothing of your Legion, or the Empire. Be gone. I declare this land to be ours, by right of conquest and pillage.”
“ Are you sure?” asked the spider commander with genuine concern. “There may be no return.”
“ Yes. It will be hard, but we will be wild and free. We will learn to eek out an honest living, to fish, to hunt, and to cook baby seal stew. We will make umbrellas and rain coats. We will be in pursuit of happiness, as guaranteed in Old Earth’s Constitution. I want nothing from any of you, except database access, if you can establish satellite orbit. And a nuclear generator. We need a reactor for electricity and lamps.”
“ Be safe,” I warned, leaving. “Smokey the Bear will be watching. Remember, only you can prevent forest fires. Don’t have sex with the locals.”
“ Whatever.”
After leaving, the Wild Ones kept their promise to keep a low profile. However, Bigfoot sightings plagued the Pacific Northwest for hundreds of years thereafter.
Chapter 19
Old Earth , viewed from orbit, is a beautiful sight. I’ll never tire of it. I spied down at Hawaii with a high-powered optic spotting scope, fascinated at the detail. There it was, the Imperial Japanese fleet approaching Pearl Harbor from the north. I could clearly see the red and white Rising Sun flag atop the mast of the lead carrier. Those bastards! Little Japanese soldiers were scurrying about like ... little Japanese soldiers. It was kind of quaint in a ‘let’s conquer the world and kill people’ sort of way.
“ I cannot believe you would be so reckless as to use nukes on your own home world,” commented the spider commander. “Have you no sense of responsibility to your planetary ecosystem?”
“ He’s right,” I added. “If nothing else, think of the paperwork from the Environmental Impact Statement.”
“ It’s 1941,” argued Mike, still looking down through his scope. “There is no EPA yet.”
“ You’re naïve if you think we won’t have to do paperwork on exploding a nuke.”
“ Fine!” relented Mike. “Simple smart bombs will do. It will be like shooting fish in a barrel.”
I could see one carrier and several support ships. I thought there should be more, but there was some cloud cover. No matter. Our targeting systems would seek out the entire fleet. Resistance would be futile. The first volley was soon underway.
“ Something is wrong,” announced Major Lopez, panicking.
“ Nonsense,” replied Mike. “It’s a direct hit. We got them before any planes could be launched!”
“ Radar indicates an incoming launch from the North American Continent. We are under attack.”
“ So, take evasive action,” I ordered. “It’s not a problem, is it? Their crude weapons can’t touch us.”
“ Exactly,” answered Lopez. “This can’t be 1941. America has no missiles.”
“ Crap!” exclaimed Mike, listening in on TV and radio news reports. “It’s 2041. We just sank a Japanese carrier taking part in a reenactment memorial exercise. Oops.”
“ Oops?” I repeated, grabbing Mike by the front of his shirt. “Fix it!”
“ If it’s 2041, we’ve got another problem,” advised Lopez. “That missile has a sophisticated guidance system, and is locked onto us. It probably has a nuclear warhead. We need to get away now.”
“ You think?” I asked, desperately pressing buttons on the control panel. “Any date will do. Get us out of here!”
We veered Earthbound, flashing out of time just as the warhead exploded. Smoke filled the cockpit as we fell, badly damaged. Mike got the shuttle under control, but we still crashed along a lake in the Northern Hemisphere. It was 1955, summertime in Northern Michigan.
* * * * *
Soon
“ Are you coming back?”
“ Yes, soon. Maybe someday. Probably not.”
“ Don’t bother,” advised Chief Stone-Claw, staking his claim by carving a Nike Swooshstika onto a large old growth cedar tree. “We’re staying. I want nothing of your Legion, or the Empire. Be gone. I declare this land to be ours, by right of conquest and pillage.”
“ Are you sure?” asked the spider commander with genuine concern. “There may be no return.”
“ Yes. It will be hard, but we will be wild and free. We will learn to eek out an honest living, to fish, to hunt, and to cook baby seal stew. We will make umbrellas and rain coats. We will be in pursuit of happiness, as guaranteed in Old Earth’s Constitution. I want nothing from any of you, except database access, if you can establish satellite orbit. And a nuclear generator. We need a reactor for electricity and lamps.”
“ Be safe,” I warned, leaving. “Smokey the Bear will be watching. Remember, only you can prevent forest fires. Don’t have sex with the locals.”
“ Whatever.”
After leaving, the Wild Ones kept their promise to keep a low profile. However, Bigfoot sightings plagued the Pacific Northwest for hundreds of years thereafter.
Chapter 19
Old Earth , viewed from orbit, is a beautiful sight. I’ll never tire of it. I spied down at Hawaii with a high-powered optic spotting scope, fascinated at the detail. There it was, the Imperial Japanese fleet approaching Pearl Harbor from the north. I could clearly see the red and white Rising Sun flag atop the mast of the lead carrier. Those bastards! Little Japanese soldiers were scurrying about like ... little Japanese soldiers. It was kind of quaint in a ‘let’s conquer the world and kill people’ sort of way.
“ I cannot believe you would be so reckless as to use nukes on your own home world,” commented the spider commander. “Have you no sense of responsibility to your planetary ecosystem?”
“ He’s right,” I added. “If nothing else, think of the paperwork from the Environmental Impact Statement.”
“ It’s 1941,” argued Mike, still looking down through his scope. “There is no EPA yet.”
“ You’re naïve if you think we won’t have to do paperwork on exploding a nuke.”
“ Fine!” relented Mike. “Simple smart bombs will do. It will be like shooting fish in a barrel.”
I could see one carrier and several support ships. I thought there should be more, but there was some cloud cover. No matter. Our targeting systems would seek out the entire fleet. Resistance would be futile. The first volley was soon underway.
“ Something is wrong,” announced Major Lopez, panicking.
“ Nonsense,” replied Mike. “It’s a direct hit. We got them before any planes could be launched!”
“ Radar indicates an incoming launch from the North American Continent. We are under attack.”
“ So, take evasive action,” I ordered. “It’s not a problem, is it? Their crude weapons can’t touch us.”
“ Exactly,” answered Lopez. “This can’t be 1941. America has no missiles.”
“ Crap!” exclaimed Mike, listening in on TV and radio news reports. “It’s 2041. We just sank a Japanese carrier taking part in a reenactment memorial exercise. Oops.”
“ Oops?” I repeated, grabbing Mike by the front of his shirt. “Fix it!”
“ If it’s 2041, we’ve got another problem,” advised Lopez. “That missile has a sophisticated guidance system, and is locked onto us. It probably has a nuclear warhead. We need to get away now.”
“ You think?” I asked, desperately pressing buttons on the control panel. “Any date will do. Get us out of here!”
We veered Earthbound, flashing out of time just as the warhead exploded. Smoke filled the cockpit as we fell, badly damaged. Mike got the shuttle under control, but we still crashed along a lake in the Northern Hemisphere. It was 1955, summertime in Northern Michigan.
* * * * *
Soon
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