Is Time Travel Possible? Time Travel Twins. How to Time Travel. The Return of James Maxwell's Equations.

By S C Hamill

Is Time Travel Possible?

Time Travel Twins. How to Time Travel.

The Return of James Maxwell's Equations.

 

"What time is it?"

"And what time is it through the human interstellar portal?"

Amy and Fin know all about weird dreams...

They get them all the time...

What they don't know is that everyday life is about to change for them inextricably, and in so many ways...

Ways that they could never have imagined?

For one thing, they don't have the faintest idea about the human interstellar portal or their special genealogy and secret hidden powers.

And for another, the missing Lorentz force law quantum equations written by James Maxwell in 1861 must be found!

After Grandad Joseph's accident, young Amy and Fin are about to find their true calling as they attempt to find something else by embarking on an amazing, fun-filled, and traveltastic adventure by commanding their secret capabilities faster than yesterday, and sooner than tomorrow!

Because it's time...

• A time for new blood to flourish...
• A time to meet Poe...
• A time to greet Johnny Depp...
• A time to beseech Leonardo Da Vinci...
• A time to find the Teyler Museum of Wonder...
• A time to climb the Statue of Science and Art ...
• A time to go through...
• Just me and you...

Through the Human Interstellar Portal!

Come and enjoy Amy and Fin's snap-shot introduction into the amazing world of time travel on their first cool, action-packed adventure, through the human interstellar portal.

Featuring the wonderfully idiosyncratic and charming Leonardo Da Vinci as himself, and the even more wonderfully unique Johnny Depp, as Jack Sparrow, and himself.

 

Front cover logo: Ai Free Publication ® ™ is a UK Registered Trademark. 
Trade Mark No: UK00003915810.
No Ai was used in the writing and publication of this book.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Earth Angel Books
• Release date: Mar 27, 2024
• ISBN: 9781386455677

S C Hamill

The author lives, works and writes in the beautiful Highlands of Scotland.

Book preview

For my darling wife,

Maria.

CONTENTS

Chapter one: Money’s tight

Chapter two: Arizona

Chapter three: The letter

Chapter four: Sorenstein

Chapter five: Haarlem

Chapter six: Bath & bedtime

Chapter seven:  Ouch!

Chapter eight: Concussion

Chapter nine: A message...

Chapter ten: Chicago

Chapter eleven: Rest easy!

Chapter twelve: Time to fly!

Chapter thirteen: Progress

Chapter fourteen: Some truth

Chapter fifteen: Explanations

Chapter sixteen: Johnny Depp

Chapter seventeen: Let’s go!

Chapter eighteen: Sleep

Chapter nineteen: Arrival

Chapter twenty: Gearing up!

Chapter twenty-one: A small world

Chapter twenty-two: Onward

Chapter twenty-three: The Teyler Museum

Chapter twenty-four: Airport

Chapter twenty-five: Hallelujah!

Chapter twenty-six: Goodbye

Chapter twenty-seven: Drinks with enemies

Chapter twenty-eight: Halfway home

Chapter twenty-nine: Fear of God

Chapter thirty: Good riddance!

Chapter thirty-one: Off again soon

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To my parents, Margaret and Clifford

My children, Thomas & Louise (Chongo-pie)

My sister Amy & my brother, John.

For Ella, Lana, Chloe, Kian, Lewis & Halle

To all my work colleagues,

including Alpha, Beta and Gamma who

continue to give me inspiration.

Special thanks to Professor Brian Cox and

Stephen Hawking, theoretical physicist.

Quote:

Time travel used to be thought of as just science fiction, but Einstein’s general theory of relativity allows for the possibility that we could warp space-time so much that you could go off in a rocket and return before you set out.

Stephen Hawking

Chapter one: Money’s tight

Marta reluctantly put another stale crisp into her mouth, pulled her face and shifted on the sofa as Talla watched her every move. You want one hound? Here, just take the whole packet, their yeuch! She exclaimed ripping the bag wide open and placing it on the floor for the dog then turning her attention back to the TV screen as the back door opened with a bang.

Kids, is that you... how, was the film?

Yep, it’s us, Fin muttered.

Amy, put the kettle on for me, would you? she asked, now crunching into an apple to rid her mouth of the horrible crisp aftertaste.

Ok mum, Amy shouted from the kitchen.

The Batman film was great Mum, he won the fight because Superman’s a big wussy pants. Marcus and Harry wanted us to go with them for a burger, but Amy said to leave them to it? Hey Amy, get me some pop too. Have we got any pop mum?

I don’t like burgers, Amy added as Fin jumped on the couch beside his Mum.

There’s no pop left Fin – you drank the last of it. There’s council pop in the tap though.

Just boring water? Tut, no thanks, I’ll pass on that. What’s this rubbish anyway? he asked looking at the television screen.

Rubbish? Marta exclaimed with a frown. I grew up watching great stuff like this.

Great? Its ancient mum, it’s not even got any CGI? he grumbled. Oh, by the way, Marcus is going to Spain next week for the Easter school holidays, he hinted.

CGI wasn’t even invented when I was your age Fin, Marta replied, ignoring his reference to ill-affordable foreign holidays.

Not very futuristic either? That robot’s not a patch on the Transformers. There’s never anything good on this telly?

I can’t do anything about that Fin.

You said you were going to get us digital television? Harry said there’s loads of great stuff on that.

I know I did, but we don’t have digital TV money Fin, Marta explained as the room suddenly plunged into darkness.

Oh, great? We don’t have anything at all now, she saddened with a gulp.

The electric’s gone again? Fin complained.

I’m afraid so. It’s a good job I remembered to put five pounds on the pre-pay card today. Sweetheart, would you get the card from my purse on the kitchen table? Amy ran her hand across the table in the dark.

I can’t feel a thing — oh here it is, she explained clicking open her mum’s purse.

I’ll get the torch for outside, Marta groaned, climbing from the sofa as Fin crossed his arms with a sigh, listening to Talla still crunching on the crisps in the dark. Marta grabbed the torch from above the sink, as Amy handed her the card and she trudged unhappily to the front door knowing the card meter was outside, fixed to the gable-end wall. Hope it’s not raining out there, she sighed as she disappeared.

Hey big mouth, Amy whispered in anger, pushing hard on Fin’s shoulder as he walked into the kitchen. Stop being a pain and wanting this, and that or the next thing all the time. There wasn’t a penny in mum’s purse. Nothing except discount cards. Not a bean. She must’ve given us her last ten pounds to go the pictures, I feel so guilty.

I don’t care Amy, it isn’t fair, he grumbled.

Oh, stop complaining Fin. I don’t even care what stuck-up Marcus said either, Amy interrupted, pushing him again. His parents are rolling in money and mums on her own. It’s you who’s not being fair. Mum works so hard and — she stopped talking as the lights flicked back on and the door closed with a thud.

Now stop you’re whining, and giving Mum a hard time, you know she’s always working, Amy whispered.

Well? he grunted, folding his arms with justification as Marta walked back into the room.

Hey, you two. I was speaking to grandad Joseph the other day and he said he’s almost finished his latest project and will have some free time soon so how do you fancy a few days in Orkney next week if I can get cover for the flower shop? she asked looking at Fin’s grumpy demeanour. It won’t exactly be Spain, but it’s all we can afford at the moment. It’s better than nothing, she assuaged. What do you think?

That’ll be brilliant mum, won’t it Fin? Amy replied, giving him a threatful look.

Yeah, yeah – whatever you say. I’m going upstairs to my room.

Chapter two: Arizona

Nothing out of the ordinary for a unipath, and aged universal telepathic, time-traveller like Joseph Christos to reanimate in a sun-baked, dust-blown telephone kiosk in the middle of the Arizona desert. He’d arrived at worse portals in his longer than a lifetime career. But this was a very important trip and his first visit to see his old friend Leonardo Da Vinci in a very long time which made him as instinctively cautious as he should be.

He lifted his hat and scratched his bald head, then looked around with curious eyes. Tumbleweed tumbled aimlessly by him, followed by reams of dancing orange sand, kicked up in a hostile wind. He pricked his ears, noticing some country music filtering through the air as he fished into his pocket for the instruction letter, from his security conscious friend.

33°45′49″N 113°36′31″W preferably dome white lily that over inconspicuous something, hot rather it’s. florin French the find you when place right the it’s. Bar Don’s for Look

OH, I FORGOT ABOUT that, he muttered, squinting at the words on the paper. He still insists on writing things backwards, he reminded himself. I thought he’d have given up that nonsense after 500 years? I bet he’s just written it like that to annoy me. It’s not as if he has to hide anything from the Church or the scribes anymore?  Phew, he thought, trying to make sense of the words again. It’s so hot, even my sweat is sweating. I do hope this is the right place, he muttered, rolling up his sleeves as far as he could, then furrowing his brow at the wooden buildings dotted around the decrepit town, feeling as out of place as a tartan-suited, pasty-faced Scotsman could be.

Mmm, I’m still not sure about this place, I’d better double-check I’m at the right gate with the feathered know-it-all, he mumbled, grabbing the letter with his teeth then resting his shabby travel case inbetween himself and the small telephone shelf, then clicking it open with his leathery hand:

Oi...! Moan-a-lot, are you there and have you got a wee minute? he asked, tapping on the case then releasing the lock.

Joseph, stop blinding me with the light, replied a startled voice from inside the case. The raven turned its head away and clicked its beak with annoyance as the daylight filtered into the case. Where else would I be?

Are we in the right town Poe? I’m not quite sure about these coordinates, Joseph asked, shoving the note into the case.

Hey, get your grubby fingernails away from my bed too, Poe exclaimed, blinking his tired eyes and ruffling his feathers. You dare to doubt my navigational skills — again?

Erm no, of course not Poe, but —

But nothing! It shouted angrily nipping at his finger.

If you gave me the correct coordinates, you’re in the right place. Now just shut the damn case, I was having a nice nap then.

Ok, ok. Just calm your jets and shut your beak you, angry head, he replied, closing the case and lowering it to the floor almost on top of a disgruntled zebra-tailed lizard, who quickly darted into the sun from the cool shade of the telephone box.

Right then. I need to look for a French Florin, Joseph said to himself, scanning around inside the booth and deciding the change box to be his best bet. He bent forward and pushed his fingers into the return-coins button, accidentally opening the telephone box door with his backside as he did.

Eureka! Here it is, he announced, vigorously throwing the coin into the air, catching it and noticing a sign over a large wooden building opposite;

Don’s Cactus Bar

Salome, Arizona

Y’all welcome!

HE EXITED THE TELEPHONE booth and followed the country music toward the bar, like a rat to the pied piper. He yanked his annoying stetson down, hoping it would provide some relief from the irritating music and the scorching sun. What a stupid hat choice Joseph, he inferred, chastising himself then finding solace from the sun in the shade of Don’s bar’s arched entranceway, as he felt his body temperature drop to something more manageable and reminiscent of his Orkney home. 

Oh, that’s better, he said taking off the encumbering hat, bowing his head, and rubbing his tartan sleeve across his sweaty forehead.

This heat’s a sin? Far too hot for a pasty Jock, he asserted, hearing a loud ‘popping’ noise then instinctively ducking down. Rationalising it as a gunshot from inside the saloon and creeping to one side with fright.

Bloody hell? The fearful crack was followed by loud, thudding footsteps, as an ogre-sized man crashed through the saloon doors and stomped red-faced toward him. Joseph cowered backwards to let the man pass. The cowboy stopped, grunted, and then looked down at ashen-faced Joseph.

You idiot! He scorned, spitting a stream of tobacco juice into the sand, as he shook his head, then hurried away.

What was that all about? Joseph puzzled. Whatever possessed Leo to settle in a one-horse town like this? He wondered. I really don’t like this place already, he thought, turning around to see the slatted, bat-wing saloon doors, still creaking from the man’s exit.

Oh well, come on Joseph, time to bite the bullet, he encouraged taking a deep breath, then pushing on the doors, and preparing to expect the unexpected, or at worst be gunned down. He entered the saloon with a huge sigh of relief. He was still alive, the loud country music had ceased and after fearing the worst, the place was as empty as a weekday church. A quick glance around the room confirmed the place to have a reasonable degree of wild-west authenticity by the large full-length mirror to the rear of the bar, even more enhanced by the presence of an apron wearing, handle-bar moustached bartender putting his heart and soul into cleaning a glass. There was also a scattering of spittoons and a carved, wooden, snarling Indian sat on the bar armed with tomahawk and dagger apparently waiting to pounce and scalp the first unsuspecting drunk on his way to the toilet. All that was missing was the piano and the dancing girls. Well, you couldn’t have everything.

As he walked forward, Joseph noticed an amazingly tall woman stop shooting pool with herself, to look up at him, then look back down to continue her game, intrigued but unphased by him. He looked at her, bowed his head, and scratched his nose with caution, deciding to walk to the bar in silence until his old eyes familiarised fully with the dark.

The bar was a crude affair, with sparse and poor decoration. Apart from one wall that was laminated top-to-toe, with pristine photos. There were two strange-looking men sat quietly whispering at each other, at the bar.

Joseph’s eyes quickly zeroed in on a completely out of place, but immaculately detailed silver lyre, perched decoratively on the end of the bar. Then, Joseph recognised a lone relic of a man, seated like a barfly in the darkest corner of the bar. The man lifted his head up slowly, tipped his black stetson at Joseph with positive eye contact. Joseph recognised his tanned face immediately and smiled wryly at the man who could have easily won a lifetime achievement award for longest beard in the world. Aah, there’s the scallywag, he whispered to himself, as his mood lightened and the bar-obscured man saluted him with his drink. He excused himself from the two other men sitting nearby, turned around in silence, then noisily dragged two chairs from under a table beckoning Joseph to join him. Joseph smiled at the tall, gangly woman who was now walking past him and watching the men’s mutual acknowledgements like a hawk.

Chapter three: Hello stranger!

W ell, well – Leonardo Da Vinci. I knew the fabled rumours of your death where utter clap-trap, he announced, turning the corner of the bar and immediately noticing his friend’s lack of legs. Joseph smiled politely, deciding to hold his curious tongue and threw his arms around the world-renowned genius he hadn’t seen in over two lifetimes.

Both Leonardo and Joseph have lived several lifetimes. Joseph is the younger of the two men at a mere three hundred and fifty-eight years but looking little less than an octogenarian.

Leonardo, on the other hand, had reached the grand age of four hundred and eighty-seven and regarded Joseph as little more than a boy who frequently required to have his hand held as well as be quietly watched over in their strange, secret and often dangerous, unipath existence. As much as both of them may have denied it, they held each other in high esteem and neither would readily admit the joy they felt in each other’s company.

Of course, I’m alive, you dunderhead!  Whose stupid hokum suggested that I was dead? he quizzed in a suave, calm and intellectual Italian/American accent, motioning Joseph to sit on a chair he was still holding. Sit down old man. I’ll ask you to take off that coat as well.

Yes Leo, it is stifling here, Joseph agreed, sliding it from his shoulders and resting it on his chair, marvelling at Leonardo’s unaccustomed concern.

Oh, and while we’re at it, don’t be telling anyone, anything about nothing whatsoever, especially my wheels, he commanded with a finger pointing down at his lack of limbs and the particularly strange undercarriage in their place. Particularly the idiotic elders! Darlene, he yelled across the room. Can I get me another beer please honey, and something for this dizzy-brained reprobate. Oh, and take his coat away and burn it. But replicate it first without the damned tracking sensor.

Sure, thing honey, she replied walking over to his side and picking up the jacket, then and strutting her smile and never-ending legs back toward the bar.

Hey! Hold on a second, you’re not burning my coat Leo, that’s original Harris tweed for God’s sake?

I can do anything I want under my own roof. If you hadn’t been bugged, I wouldn’t have to, he grunted. Now shut up and tell me what you’d like to drink?

Bugged, what do you mean bugged?

I mean there’s a GPS tracker hidden in the material. Do you think me as security lax as yourself?

No, he replied feeling somewhat embarrassed. Just some water please Leo, I’m melting here. Then, maybe a nice cup of tea.

You what?

Tea!

Oh, glory be? Would you kick-back and break a leg for once in your sorry life?  After all – when in Arizona, he said smiling and motioning his eyes to the beer bottle in his hand.

Break a leg eh? Joseph laughed, scratching his head and looking down at his friend’s lack of them, then conceding his original request.

Aye, alright. Why not indeed? Make it two beers then, hen, he shouted, unconsciously reverting back to his Scottish drawl, then licking his lips and rubbing his hands together as the mini-skirted girl winked him a smile as she prepared their drinks with interested eyes. She looked him up and down again, giving a nodding approval to his tartan attire, whilst chewing her gum like it was going out of fashion. The two other men swivelled around to face each other slower than conjoined sloths after hearing Joseph’s somewhat