Anything Anywhere Anytime by Robert Parker

Author:Robert Parker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: murder, space, time, technology, freewill
Publisher: Robert Parker

Humans would gain the ability to reproduce solely from within same-sex marriage, but the babies produced would still cry for their mothers;

The criminal element might be controlled (mostly by other criminals), but the spirit for free enterprise and rebellion would never surrender.

Yes, these are the times I had lived once already. Deja vu on a grand scale.

There were some items on Sam’s summary with which I was not familiar. Had time been altered already? If so, could I change time further – or at least fail to preserve it – what rock could we build our church upon? My faith in logic faltered and I shivered with a growing dread that you might be the only thing missing from this age to which I’d returned. Had my travel through space and time been for nothing? Surely fate could not be so cruel.

I determined to track you down, just as soon as we got back to Melbourne.

Then, during his constant monologue, Sam mentioned your John – Senator Truscott. It raised my hopes, but before I could ask about you, he turned his eyes from the road to study me. Those careless eyes were smiling, but his voice was venom when he asked, ‘What do you think about that… politician?’ Only he wasn’t so polite. I won’t use the rude title he gave John. Sam had no sympathy for the Green movement which John led, or the environment for that matter – I guess he’d demonstrated that with the destruction of the little bit of slightly toxic paradise I’d so recently admired.

I became instantly angry. Forgetting that I was playing the part of a jaded gun-runner, I told Sam of my own reverence for John and his cause. I almost blurted that his death was a great loss to humanity. Sam was very quiet after my outburst. He was probably only teasing me, but how had he known to tickle that nerve. I became lost in my thoughts.

Before we had completely left the countryside, I woke with a start to find the car pulling off the road. We had stopped near a granite outcrop. He was rummaging in the glove box and brought out a small hammer and chisel.

When I questioned our stop, he said he needed to post an unusual letter; one that would be delivered in the future, for his fans there. A blog of sorts, describing the weapon, and describing me too, I guess.

No. Not a paper letter. And it seems that our electronic memory devices would be too outmoded for the period he intended to address. This letter required something more permanent.

I was curious, and he didn't mind if I watched. I left the weapon in the glove box – this was the last I would see of it for a week. We walked up the hill until he found a blank rock face.

Everywhere else I looked, and beneath the paint from local artists, the other rocks were covered in strange shallow grooves: an odd minimalistic cipher. Some carvings were old and lichen-covered while others were fresher.

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