As the Blink 182 song 'What's My Age Again' played quietly from a speaker sunk into the ceiling, Tibbs browsed his
listings of Earth-set portals. Shaking his head at the one that would become known as the 'Skinwalker Ranch',
he sighed towards the time-machine's screen and wondered what had gone wrong there.
Usually when a doorway is built, the ley-line holds the frequency for a long time and Tibbs had even discovered a
gateway still retaining the same two stations after twenty of Earth's centuries,
But with the Utah portal, it had never worked properly and repairs had been long-in-waiting on the To-Do list.
Switching to possible doubles for James Forrestal, Tibbs watched the craft's processing unit scan humanity's
history and future for someone who looked like the shy, unstable man. The Vithian smiled at the irony of his latest
task, as he thought of the reality that the ex-Secretary of the Navy lived a double life that he -to this day, didn't have
any knowledge of. A Wose in human form
Mucklebones, Ninurta and Boy In A Dress were outside enjoying the peace and quiet of Wyoming in the early-1900's.
The usually-reserved GunMan had helped to set-up camp and now watched as Muckles cooked supper over a open-fire.
BIAD was a few hundred yards away and attempting to understand an ancient medicine wheel laid across a cleared
area behind the geothermal pool they'd used earlier.
It was another ten minutes before the data-bank threw up an appropriate candidate to replace James Forrestal and
the result brought another sigh from the small Time-Manager. But this time the exhale was bittered as Tibbs envisaged
the planning needed to obtain this suggested middle-aged man from his respective timeline.
The established history for Forrestal was that at around 2 a.m. on the morning of May 22 in 1949, the man supposedly
dealing with a nervous breakdown fell to his death from a small window of the 16th floor of the Bethesda Naval Hospital
in Maryland.
Not knowing that his thoughts had followed the same lines as the man now accepting a plate of bacon and beans from
Mucklebones, Tibbs had come to also believe that the only option was to allow history play out and replace Forrestal
at the moment when probability began to manifest as outcome.
But to acquire success, we'd need a body and now, the quantum-unit had spat out a name and a rendering.
"Eh Hubby... yer' supper's ready" Mucklebones called from the campfire and Tibbs waved a hand to indicate he had heard.
The day was closing quickly and the shadow of the time-machine was stretching towards where Ninurta and the Witch
ate their meal. Maybe sleeping on it might help in constructing a plan, Tibbs thought to himself as he clicked the craft's
intelligence to sleep-mode.
Elvis was just starting to sing 'If I Can Dream' as the time-machine went dark and the hip-shaking Mississippian became
silent as the grave that would be worshipped in his own front-garden, one day. Tibbs looked resigned as he climbed out
and dropped to the mineral-rich soil of Thermopolis and wondered if his companions would believe him.
Grabbing Jack The Ripper wasn't going to be easy.
listings of Earth-set portals. Shaking his head at the one that would become known as the 'Skinwalker Ranch',
he sighed towards the time-machine's screen and wondered what had gone wrong there.
Usually when a doorway is built, the ley-line holds the frequency for a long time and Tibbs had even discovered a
gateway still retaining the same two stations after twenty of Earth's centuries,
But with the Utah portal, it had never worked properly and repairs had been long-in-waiting on the To-Do list.
Switching to possible doubles for James Forrestal, Tibbs watched the craft's processing unit scan humanity's
history and future for someone who looked like the shy, unstable man. The Vithian smiled at the irony of his latest
task, as he thought of the reality that the ex-Secretary of the Navy lived a double life that he -to this day, didn't have
any knowledge of. A Wose in human form
Mucklebones, Ninurta and Boy In A Dress were outside enjoying the peace and quiet of Wyoming in the early-1900's.
The usually-reserved GunMan had helped to set-up camp and now watched as Muckles cooked supper over a open-fire.
BIAD was a few hundred yards away and attempting to understand an ancient medicine wheel laid across a cleared
area behind the geothermal pool they'd used earlier.
It was another ten minutes before the data-bank threw up an appropriate candidate to replace James Forrestal and
the result brought another sigh from the small Time-Manager. But this time the exhale was bittered as Tibbs envisaged
the planning needed to obtain this suggested middle-aged man from his respective timeline.
The established history for Forrestal was that at around 2 a.m. on the morning of May 22 in 1949, the man supposedly
dealing with a nervous breakdown fell to his death from a small window of the 16th floor of the Bethesda Naval Hospital
in Maryland.
Not knowing that his thoughts had followed the same lines as the man now accepting a plate of bacon and beans from
Mucklebones, Tibbs had come to also believe that the only option was to allow history play out and replace Forrestal
at the moment when probability began to manifest as outcome.
But to acquire success, we'd need a body and now, the quantum-unit had spat out a name and a rendering.
"Eh Hubby... yer' supper's ready" Mucklebones called from the campfire and Tibbs waved a hand to indicate he had heard.
The day was closing quickly and the shadow of the time-machine was stretching towards where Ninurta and the Witch
ate their meal. Maybe sleeping on it might help in constructing a plan, Tibbs thought to himself as he clicked the craft's
intelligence to sleep-mode.
Elvis was just starting to sing 'If I Can Dream' as the time-machine went dark and the hip-shaking Mississippian became
silent as the grave that would be worshipped in his own front-garden, one day. Tibbs looked resigned as he climbed out
and dropped to the mineral-rich soil of Thermopolis and wondered if his companions would believe him.
Grabbing Jack The Ripper wasn't going to be easy.
Edith Head Gives Good Wardrobe.