In the year 2192, the technology exists to send digital recorders back in time to witness history. The results are preserved via holographic images for the world to see.
Managing teams to record history can be stressful enough, but when the government tries to take possession of the proprietary technology from the privately held Historical Preservation Agency, dedicated historian, Caleb Hunter, must rely upon a well-connected, and sexy, developer at a government agency for help.
Can the two of them keep time travel in the hands of historians?
This is a short story. It is a prequel to the novel, "Time Historian.
Iâm a part-time writer who would love to quit her day job and become a full-time writer. Tea and chocolate fuel me so that I can write at night and on the weekends whenever I can find the time.
I have lived in many different parts of the world, and grew up on military bases. My father was career military and CIA; his father worked with the Secret Service. I graduated high school in Germany and I attended the University of Texas at Austin where I received a degree in Computer Science with a minor in math. My specialty is social media and I love connecting with people.
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âHello, Janice?â the man said. âThis is Caleb Hunter from the Historical Preservation Agency. Iâm sorry for reaching you on your private line, but I couldnât reach you at your office. How are you doing?â
She sat straighter in her seat and her tongue ran across her teeth searching for any stray breakfast bits. She raked one hand through her short blond hair as the other one brushed under her eyes clearing any runny mascara. âIâm doing great, Caleb. How are you doing?â
âIâm fine,â he said. âDo you have an estimated time of delivery for the HPAâs shipment of the safety valves we worked on together.â
She noticed a fake smile appeared on his face. She had spent hours on the com-center talking with the man; she recognized his real smile when she saw it. This wasnât it.
âIs there something wrong with the order?â she said in a breathy and heady way.
Good Lord. She couldnât stop herself from batting her eyelashes at him. How strong were her drinks? The waiter must have changed his recipe. Then again, Caleb was the most delicious man she had ever seen. How many times had she lingered on the com-unit just to talk to him? She had lost count.
âWe never received our shipment from Bright Tech,â he said.
Well, hell. That was no longer her problem, now was it? âIâm sorry. Youâll have to contact Bright Tech for that information.â
He smiled wider now and she thought the smile looked even more fake. âI was hoping since weâre friends that you would give me the status real quick. Maybe I could pick up the shipment myself.â
She offered him a big smile, liking that he used the word friends. She assumed he tried to flirt with her, and he was doing a bad job of it. She was only on her third drink, and this conversation seemed a bit odd to her. âIâm sorry. Iâm on furlough from Bright Tech. You can reach me at my office in three months. That is, if the furlough ends by then, or if I still have a job.â