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    One Million Years AD: Fembot Sally, #5
    One Million Years AD: Fembot Sally, #5
    One Million Years AD: Fembot Sally, #5
    Ebook49 pages47 minutes

    One Million Years AD: Fembot Sally, #5

    By Samantha Faulkner

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    About this ebook

    A disastrous experiment sends Sally Shagwell spiralling through time, though whether into the past or the future is not immediately clear. A dinosaur attack places her firmly in the Jurassic period, but there are primitive people running around here too, in rather revealing loincloths, and if Sally knows one thing it is that humans and dinosaurs never co-existed. Perhaps she has slipped sideways in time, into an alternative reality. Or perhaps she is on a different planet altogether. Only one thing is certain: the dinosaurs are the least of her problems!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSamantha Faulkner
    Release dateFeb 18, 2019
    ISBN9781386360063
    One Million Years AD: Fembot Sally, #5

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      Book preview

      One Million Years AD - Samantha Faulkner

      One Million Years AD

      Never trust a man in a white coat; that is a lesson I hadn’t properly learnt until today. I have met my fair share of megalomaniacs – as an android secret agent you’re bound to come across a few – but even so you don’t expect to find them on your own turf. Ten minutes, I was told by the professor in the white coat, and then I could head off to the Purple Pussy for dinner with my old friend Simon Hunt. I was happy to help out. I have good reason to be grateful to the boys in K Division at the moment. I have just come back from a particularly bruising mission in Central Europe and the lads have performed a complete overhaul of my systems, which has left me feeling in particularly fine fettle.

      That is no excuse, however, for what has just happened.

      ‘It won’t take ten minutes,’ Professor Llewellyn tells me with his usual enthusiasm. He is the assistant head of K Division, a sprightly geriatric scientist with gangly, awkward limbs and a fatherly twinkle in his eye. ‘Just something we want to try out.’ He points me cheerfully in the direction of a small domed vehicle, not unlike an Apollo space capsule.

      I ask the obvious question. ‘What is it?’

      Llewellyn bubbles with excitement. ‘We call it a chronocapsule. Our latest wheeze! It’s only in the experimental phase.’

      ‘What does it do?’

      The professor grins and lifts a finger. He enjoys a good lecture and I am happy to indulge him. ‘It generates a small tear in the fabric of space-time, through which we hope to send tiny parcels of information.’

      ‘What kind of information?’

      ‘Well...hopefully, people information. That’s what we want to test.’ He gestures me towards the capsule. ‘We’ve managed to translate a couple of mice into a long sequence of binary code and then propel them and the capsule two and a half minutes into the future. But now we want to extend things a little further.’

      ‘You want to send me into the future?’

      ‘That’s the ticket!’ He beams. ‘We’re not quite ready for a full grown human yet, but your relatively simple circuitry should translate perfectly!’

      I decide not to take offence at the simple.

      ‘So how far forward do you intend to send me?’ I am meeting Simon Hunt at seven thirty and I will need a couple of hours to prepare.

      ‘Oh, only ten minutes,’ Llewellyn replies breezily. ‘We’re fairly confident we’ve got our sums right.’

      Fairly confident is hardly inspiring but Llewellyn is so full of boyish enthusiasm I am not inclined to doubt him. This man has more letters after his name than the Queen and he has just overseen a significant upgrade to my weapons capability.

      And so, a few minutes later, I find myself willingly strapped inside the metal capsule, with the bright hum of experimental machinery throbbing all around me.

      ‘From your point of view, you shouldn’t notice anything at all,’ Llewellyn informs me through the entry hatch. ‘We flick a switch and you move forward in time. From our point of view, the capsule will disappear, as your atoms are torn apart and reduced to binary information. That code will be transmitted through a tiny crack the machine will have opened up in space-time and the capsule will be reassembled in exactly the same position ten minutes later, as if nothing has happened. Here, take this.’

      He hands me a plastic wrist watch. It is one of these new fangled digital models. They’re not on the market yet so I’m lucky to have one. Not that I really needed a watch – my internal chronometer is good for several thousand years – but it is clearly more for the professor’s benefit than mine.

      ‘That’ll help us map out the time differential,’ he says, as I strap it onto my wrist. ‘Make

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