The Necessary Men

A short extract from my first book

“In Vacant Or In Pensive Mood”

When Gavvy came to his senses, there was nothing high-tech around him: no lab, no state-of-the-art equipment, no men in lab coats. Instead, he was lying on the side of a gently sloping hill on a bed of short, soft grass. The hill made up one side of an almost surreally green valley. On the other side of the valley was an equally gentle rise, but this one was covered in a carpet of tiny yellow flowers. A few hundred feet lower than where he lay, a creek wormed its way towards a bucolic little village that seemed to merge into the horizon. Just before the village began, there was a quaint little stone bridge over the creek. It was as serene, gentle, and agreeable a landscape as any he had ever seen.

“Where am I?”

You’ve reached the future, the answer came almost automatically.

Suddenly to his astonishment Gavvy felt the memories of a vacation he had taken with Ash erupt volcanically out of him. He choked down on a sob and firmly shut his eyes to prevent the burning tears oozing out like molten lava. Then the cold ice slap of the memory of Ash’s betrayal sliced into his mind and the tears vanished. He could feel his mind ripping apart — good, evil what was she? Who was she? He fought for control, writhed for it, and finally succeeded in calming down. And then he sat up and looked around.

His brief was to scout. How do I know that? I really don’t know — maybe they shoved it into my mind while I was under sedation. But I know that my job is to find out if there is anything dangerous in this time line. Dangerous? Ha! In Gavvy’s view, nothing could be more dangerous than the warmongering, avaricious, cynical masters who controlled his timeline, but since he was here now, he got up, dusted the grass off his clothes and set off for the village.

It took him two hours of brisk walking to reach the bridge — it was farther than it appeared. It was a lovely walk. The weather was perfect, the air clean and fresh. Gavvy reached the bridge not even breathing hard.

And that’s when he/I/we first met you/us.

You know, that was not when you first met us.

Yes. But that is when I thought I met you.

We had probed your mind, sorting out the pus

And poison. What is false and what is true.

So tell them the truth. Tell them the whole story.

Tell them how you fucked around with my brain?

Tell them how we can. Do it, don’t worry,

Know this: through your telling, you stand to gain.

We will record your tale so that your time

Will understand their actions are madness

That their thinking — their whole world — is a crime

And to destroy them won’t cause us distress.

They must join this peaceful river of life

Abandon the domination of strife.