St. Batzy and the Time
Machine
Genene Valleau
genene@genenevalleau.com
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 1
A modern day castle in
western Oregon. An eccentric inventor is determined to reclaim his wayward time
machine and save his beloved wife from her latest misadventure. If only they
can travel safely past the black hole…
EXCERPT
Horace Ainsworth patted the side of the giant red fire hydrant towering
two stories above him then addressed the terrier mix dog staring at him
curiously. "It's finished. Now don't you dig in my Maddie's roses any more
or potty on the pansies."
Batzy stared at Horace's retreating back for a moment before he hiked
his leg on the nearest flowering plant.
Then he turned his attention to the odd-looking structure the Big Human
had erected. Not like any fire hydrant he'd ever sniffed. A canine would have
to be the size of King Kong to give this thing a proper marking.
Though it did smell like the water that sprayed out of the hose when the
human across the street yelled at him. Batzy grinned and lifted his leg,
imagining he was returning the spray of the yelling human.
As he circled this mysterious structure, the smell of fresh paint and
overturned earth drifted into his nostrils. It was bigger than the
merry-go-round at the park where his human, Chloe, sometimes took him.
Wonder what's inside?
Batzy scratched at the side of the structure then trotted another few
steps and scratched again. About halfway around he found an opening. Not tall
enough for the Big Human, but just about perfect for his
little girl, Chloe. Batzy darted inside and lifted his face to sample
the aromas.
No scents of danger but much to explore. Like this box of dirt. Odd. Big
humans usually didn't appreciate the joys of digging. Hadn't he just been told
not to dig in the rose bushes? A sniff and a poke with his paw uncovered a bone.
Fresh out of the package. Batzy looked around. What game was the Big Human
playing?
"Batzy!" his little girl was calling him.
Batzy stepped out of the digging pit. Hmm. I smell peanut butter.
He put a front paw on a cabinet for balance and
nosed a button. A bone-shaped treat fell into a bowl below. Also fresh out of a
package. The Big Human was definitely up to something. Batzy gobbled it down
quickly before looking around again.
"Batzy!"
Drat! He had to go. On his way out, Batzy stepped back into the digging box
and snatched up the bone. Outside once again, he pushed the bone through the
gap under the fence, and squeezed through after it.
He popped up on the other side with
only a few more streaks of mud on the white of his belly and wagged his tail at
Chloe. He'd go back to explore the Big Human's structure later.
~ * ~
Satisfied he had neutralized the threat to Maddie's rose bushes, Horace
returned to the workshop in the basement of their castle-shaped home. In King
Arthur's time, the sorcerer Merlin might have worked his magic in similar
surroundings. Had Merlin simply been a scientist with an observing eye and a
searching mind?
That's how Horace saw himself: open to possibilities and what others
might consider impossibilities. He loved to explore "what if" and
took delight in disproving "facts." Edison did it with the light
bulb. The Wright brothers did it with airplanes. Horace continued that
tradition with a flying car and a robot that served dinner, as well as a play
structure made out of a water tower and painted like a giant fire hydrant for
the dog next door. After all, who said inventions had to be serious?
Horace scanned the stone walls lined with tables and shelves stacked
with high-tech inventions and mechanical gadgets in various stages of
development. What should he work on next?
He nearly set aside the recipe card propped on the computer keyboard,
except he hadn't seen the word "urgent" on a recipe before. Horace
realized it was a phone message from his cousin, Clement. "Will arrive
tomorrow with submarine."
Horace scratched his chin. What would his space engineer relative be
doing with a submarine?
Suddenly, the alarm for the garages began wailing. A glance at the
security monitor showed a truck pulling a trailer painted in vivid red and
orange careening around the castle had clipped the gutter downspout and set off
the alarm.
A net dropped over the trailer, tangling in a wheel and jerking it
sideways. Unfortunately, the truck continued its forward momentum until it also
lurched to a stop, now sitting almost side by side with the trailer.
If Horace didn't know his wife was safely painting in her studio, he
would have sworn she was driving the truck.
He hurried out of his workshop to be sure both truck and driver were
okay.
A tall, lanky man wearing a white shirt and black slacks jumped down
from the driver's seat as the truck shuddered to a stop, grinning at Horace.
"Hi, Cuz."
A frown creased Horace's forehead as he stared at the argyle suspenders
that kept Clement Ainsworth's slacks pulled up into a permanent wedgie. The
same suspenders Clement bragged had garnered him a date with the prettiest
sorority girl at college some thirty-odd years ago. "But your message said
you'd be here tomorrow."
Clement waved away Horace's confusion. "I called yesterday. You
need a new secretary."
"My nephew took the message--"
"Like I said, you need a new secretary."
Horace made a mental note to come up with a more efficient way to
deliver messages. "Why are you here? This doesn't look like a
submarine."
Clement frowned. "Paperwork hold-up. But we can start work without
it."
"Work on what?"
After a suspicious look around, Clement dropped his voice to a whisper.
"A probe to explore black holes."
Horace also looked around, seeing nothing of danger except his cousin's
lack of driving skills. "You mean black holes in space caused by stars
burning out?"
"Well, that's the generally accepted theory."
"And do you have a probe in the trailer?"
"Nah. This is a mobile fabrication laboratory." Clement walked
to the back of the trailer, stepping over the tangled netting that had captured
one of the wheels. "This will make us a working prototype of the
probe."
Horace stepped inside the trailer behind his cousin. "What is all
this?"
"Laser cutter, CNC machine tools, robotic water jet, a rapid
prototyping device--just to name a few. All run by cutting edge computer software."
Horace's hands tingled with the desire to pry open the metal casings on
the equipment and see how the machines really worked. "Don't you make
anything by hand?"
"You're still living in the dark ages, Horace." Clement
laughed again. "No one makes things manually anymore."
Horace squared his shoulders, determined not to let his older, city
slicker cousin make him feel inferior the way he had in college. "I
do."
Clement's expression turned immediately apologetic, something Horace had
rarely seen. "That's why I need you."
With a deep breath and a frown, Clement looked Horace squarely in the
eye. "You're the detail man. You make visions a reality. Others know the
theories, but you know how to make them work."
"Um...right." Horace was still a bit off balance and
definitely wary of his cousin's change in attitude. For the first time Horace
could recall, Clement seemed to appreciate his skills rather than denigrating
them. Surely Horace could give the man a chance to explain--and examine these
intriguing machines--before Maddie threw Clement off their property. "Tell
me what you have in mind."
"Saving the world."
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