Monday, November 06, 2006


The state of TIAH

November 6th, 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) 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 2124, a judicial application is found for the recently invented Hussein-Sadat time dilation device. The Peace and Reconciliation Committee of the Reconstructed United Nations will try arch-criminals from the pre-jihad era. First in the dock is Cristoforo Colombo, charged with the genocide of American indigenes. -entry by Steve Payne from Counter History in Context - You're the Judge!-

When Kevin hit the Austin city limits, he started fighting against people who were starting to use the inbound lanes of I-35 as outbound. Up till then, the traffic on his side had been pretty light; now, cars were coming at him at high speed, driven by people in a high panic.
Not that he really blamed them. He was kind of panicky, himself. According to the lady on the EBS, Waco had been completely evacuated from fear of nuclear fallout, and citizens were being urged to stay home unless the National Guard requested that you leave.
Requested. Sure.
He found the downtown-only lane and slid into line behind several hundred cars. Since he was at a virtual stop, he pulled out the lottery ticket he had come to redeem. 3 million bucks, after taxes. The little orange and white slip had seemed like pure gold last night when he read the numbers from the lottery web site. Now, it just seemed like an unimportant scrap of paper; worse, it was bait that had lured him from a fairly safe location to what was probably a huge terrorist target.
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the only person he still knew in Austin. The phone lines, unsurprisingly, were very busy, so he hung up and tried to dial his mother in Bryan. That was busy, too. So were his sister, his brother, all of his friends and his job, now. He wondered who had called him earlier, and checked the call log on his phone. It was a number he didn't know, so he tried to call it, expecting failure.
Instead, he got a clear line. “KBE Enterprises, this is Lilly, may I help you?”
“Uh, yeah, someone called me from this number a couple of hours ago. My name is Kevin Bradley.”
There was a clacking of fingers on computer keys. “Yes, Mr. Bradley, please hold for a moment.”
The line of cars ahead of him wasn't moving at any great pace, so Kevin shrugged and held on. Thinking that it might be a while, he plugged the cell phone's battery charger into the cigarette lighter and hit the loudspeaker option. The sound of the light muzak filled the cab of his truck.

Janice filled up the last empty jug she could find and capped it. She filled up the tub again and left the water standing. She could use that if the water was cut off. She had tried to call her parents, but the lines were all down, now.
The EBS was still broadcasting vague warnings to stay home and obey any orders the governor or National Guard might issue, but no real news on why martial law had been declared. She gathered that something had happened to Crawford, the president's ranch, but there was some doubt as to whether he had been there or not. That worried her a little bit; while she had voted for the man, she didn't like his vice-president, and didn't trust him like she trusted the president.
She looked around the house to see if there was anything else she could do. She wished that she had gone to the store last night; there wasn't a lot of food on her shelves, and if power went out, the fridge only had a few hours before it stopped holding cool air in.
She also pulled out the gun she kept by her bed and loaded it. If somebody decided that this house looked like a nice looting target, they'd be getting a big surprise.

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