Alternate Routes

The state of TIAH

November 14th, 2006

Alternate Historian's Note: November is NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month. In 2004, we produced our novel Warp, and last year we got a start on The Protocols Of The Elders Of Zion during this annual event. Both of these novels were based on timelines from TIAH – Warp was based on the Mlosh timeline, and Protocols on the Greater Zionist Resistance timeline. Although we posted numerous links to these novels on Lulu, TIAH didn't post any excerpts from them. We're going to do it a little differently this year. This year, the November posts on TIAH will be excerpts from the novel that is being written by us for NaNoWriMo. We will still have Guest Historian entries – Stephen Payne (who has compiled several and made them available on Lulu for free – just go through the Add to Cart system to get it) has some already written and waiting – so, if you want to make a Guest Post this month, go ahead and send it to us, and it will appear along with our novel post.

in 1872, Dei Gratia leaves New York harbor just seven days behind the Celeste. The commander of the British Ship is Captain David R. Morehouse who knows Captain Briggs. They dined together shortly before the voyage, discussing the checkered history of the ship. Morehouse has been instructed by Meissner Ackermann & Coin to rendezvous with the Celeste off the coast of the Azores in early December. -entry by Steve Payne from Counter History in Context - You're the Judge!-

in 1940, 515 German Luftwaffe bombers take part in the Coventry Blitz, targeting the City for its high concentration of armaments, munitions and engine plants which contributed greatly to the British war effort. The raid destroyed or damaged about 60,000 buildings over hundreds of hectors in the center of Coventry, killing 568 civilians with most of the historic city center and also the Cathedral dedicated to Saint Michael is destroyed. Due to poor execution by the Luftwaffe, and not understanding the military significance of Coventry, the raid is universally considered by the British as an unprovoked attack on a helpless civilian population, signaling the end of the gentleman's war as anti-German hatred sweeps the nation. With the land war over in Europe, the only military option available is the Royal Air Force, thrusting power into the psychotic hands of Arthur Travers Harris, the Head of RAF Bomber Command who extracts a terrible revenge on the cities of Germany. When Britain is finally starved into submission and defeat in 1945, Harris is one of many high profile war criminals handed over to Nazi authorities for trial at Nuremberg where he commits suicide hours before his planned execution. -entry by Steve Payne from Counter History in Context - You're the Judge!-

in 1964, publisher George E. Wier is born in Madisonville, Texas. Wier's early career was in minor Texana, but the publication of his Hell in Texas action/adventure series raised his company to the next level. Because of his religious ties with actor John Travolta, he was able to get the series in film, with Travolta in the lead role, and his “small-town book company” became one of the hottest in the country in the early 21st century.

Before(cont.)
The National Guard truck was filled with scared-looking young men, and Janice was looking at four others behind it as she waited for it to pass. They were completely blocking the small road she was driving down, and she wasn't entirely sure that they were going to let her through.
Sure enough, the last truck in the line stopped in front of her, and an older man stepped down from the back and walked over to her car. She muttered soft curses to the fates, and then rolled down her window. “Is there a problem, officer?”
The soldier took a look in her car and eyed her up and down. “You're heading into a restricted area, ma'am.”
She feigned her best look of shock and surprise. “Really? I had no idea.”
“Haven't you been listening to the radio, ma'am?”
“Durn thing just doesn't get the best reception,” she said, flashing her teeth at the man.
He looked over the brand-new radio in her dash, then back at her skeptically. “Really?”
“Yeah, isn't that something? You get a new car, you expect everything to work right. Oh, well,” she chirped cheerfully. He was not buying it. He reached in and flipped her radio on. “Hey,” she said in weak protest just before her car filled with the sound of the woman from the Emergency Broadcast System talking about compliance with National Guard troopers. “Well, what do you know? Must have just fixed itself.”
“Mm-hm.” He gave her another appraising look and said, “Look, ma'am, you're not in the restricted zone, yet. You can turn around and go home, and I won't arrest you. But we will report your car as being sighted near here, and you as acting very suspicious. It won't go easy on you if they catch you closer to Waco.”
“So, I'm near Waco, now?”
He didn't know if giving her that information would help or hurt, so he said, “Yes, you're about twenty miles away. The quarantine area is ten miles in that direction,” he said, pointing down the road she was driving on. “You don't wanna be caught inside the quarantine area.”
“Oh, don't worry, officer, I don't plan on being caught there.”
“Mm-hm.”
She gave him another bright smile. “I'm turning around right now, sir, just as soon as I can figure out a good route home.”
“Mm-hm.”
“Don't you worry about me.”
The soldier straightened up and gave her one last warning. “Ma'am, it's very dangerous. We're not even sure if we're giving the quarantine area enough space. I was told that it was a very dirty bomb that they used on the president.”
“Have you been there?” She looked at him excitedly, hoping that she could get some information out of his stoically tight lips.
“No,” he said, deflating her hopes. “Nobody's been in yet. They're assembling a hazmat team...” He caught himself before saying anything else. “That's not public information.” He narrowed his eyes at her and asked, “Are you a reporter?”
“Oh no, sir,” she said hurriedly. “Just a curious citizen.”
“Well, you should try to hold that in. We're not letting reporters in anywhere, yet.”
“That's OK. Because I'm not a reporter.”
He obviously didn't believe her. “Why don't you turn around and started heading down the road, now, ma'am?”
“Of course,” she said, trying to maintain her smile. “You have a good day,” she sang, waving and smiling half-heartedly. She turned the car around and pulled away from the trucks. “Crap,” she groused as she drove. “Now I have to find another way.”

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