Goats

The state of TIAH

November 16th, 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, Oliver Deveau of the Dei Gratia endures a night of fitful sleep after Captain David Morehouse shares his partial understanding of the true mission of the voyage with the Chief Mate. In his dream he is leading a rescue party in a small boat to board the Mary Celeste. As they approach the ship, they make the most awful discovery. The Celeste is crewed by goats! -entry by Steve Payne from Counter History in Context - You're the Judge!-

in 1990, pressure builds on British Prime Minister Margaret Hilda Thatcher to stand down as the Head of Government for the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. The Iron Lady is “not for turning” however. Neither are the continuous agencies of the British state which have ruthlessly pursued the meat-grinder known as the national interest since the Middle Ages. Draconian measures are discussed in Whitehall to keep Thatcher in power and thoughts turn to the Iraq-Kuwait border conflict as a deus ex machina. -entry by Steve Payne from Counter History in Context - You're the Judge!-

in 2016, at Camp David the septuagenarian US President George Walker Bush narrowly escapes death after choking on a vacuum-packed pretzel during the Superbowl. It's a re-run of course; no one has played football or indeed any other sport since life was extirpated above ground by the 2007 nuclear confrontation which started with North Korea. -entry by Steve Payne from Counter History in Context - You're the Judge!-

Before(cont.)
Janice looked at the dead-end of the road she was traveling down and cursed. Her Internet connection sucked out here, and she wasn't able to look up her location on the map site anymore. She stopped the car, turned it off, and got out.
In front of her, and on either side, she saw farmland. Behind her, the road stretched for miles back to the small town she had stopped at for a cola. She sipped at it now and tried to think about her next move. She was thinking about a little off-road action through this farm in front of her, but her affection for her car stamped out that thought.
Her directions told her that Waco, and Crawford beyond it, were on the other side of that farm. She just had to find a way around it. Too bad she couldn't charm that soldier who got her turned around; she could have used one of their trucks now.
She got back in the car, started it up, and U-turned around. Once she was back in the small town, she took the turn she had passed on last time and winced as pothole after pothole rattled her. She almost decided to save her car's frame and turn around when the road gently started curving in the direction she needed to go. “Yeah, baby,” she said, jouncing wildly around as she sped off toward Waco again.

The lottery office was clean, bright and beautiful. Kevin shuddered as he walked in, smiling in spite of everything else that was going on. There was a young woman sitting at a desk in front of him, watching television on a small portable set. He walked up to her and said, “Hi. I'm Kevin Bradley, the lottery winner.” It felt incredible to say it.
She turned away from the TV and returned his smile. “Congratulations. Not the best day to win, though,” she said, her smile losing some of its luster. “I almost didn't come in today, except that I saw we had a winner. I only live 4 blocks away, so I didn't even have to fight the traffic today.” She tapped a few keys on her computer and looked back up at him. “Do you have the form filled out?”
“Yeah, I printed it off the Internet last night,” he said, pulling a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handing it to her.
“And, the ticket?” He handed that over, as well. She verified the numbers, looked over the form, and said, “OK, I'll cut the check and be right back.” She stood up and walked away into the rest of the office.
Kevin sat down on one of the comfortable chairs they had scattered around and stretched his feet out. It had been a long walk, and they were a little sore. He leaned his head back against the wall and shut his eyes for a few seconds. The fact that he had only slept about 4 hours last night caught up with him, and he felt the exhaustion grip him. He was startled when the young woman shook him awake. “Sorry, but you were snoozing pretty hard, there.”
“That's OK,” he said, standing up. She was holding a check in her right hand, and he pointed at it. “Is that for me?”
“It sure is,” she said, giving it to him. “We withdraw 28% for taxes automatically, but you might want to consult with an accountant about any other taxes you might have to pay.”
He looked at the check like the ape looking at the obelisk. It had a wonderful seven-digit number and his name sitting right next to it. “Do you have a phone book? I have to report in to the National Guard.”
She snorted. “You're kidding.” He shook his head. “What a day.” She pulled a phone book from behind her desk and handed it him.

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