A Study in Time

By Maureen Flynn

In a near future Australia, Minnie thought she'd live out the rest of her life researching and teaching all things Ancient Greece to eager students. Then, Ronnie comes on the scene. Young and attractive, he inducts Minnie into Freedom, a movement dedicated to rescuing climate refugees from government time agents eager to prevent people from 'illegally jumping borders.'

Soon, Minnie's caught up in the adventure of a life time. Tasked with rescuing a fellow Freedom agent from ancient Delphi and saving people about to drown as sea levels rise, Minnie soon discovers no one is who they seem. As government agents chase her through time, and a traitor is revealed, Minnie must use all her smarts to survive ...

 

A short novella about time travel, trips to far flung locales in past and present and women going on kickass adventures.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maureen Flynn
• Release date: Oct 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201510435

Maureen Flynn

Maureen Flynn lives on the East Coast of NSW on Dharawal nation land. She is an avid speculative fiction and crime fiction lover, writer and fan. She has finally taken up part time work at her local library so she can dedicate more hours of her day to working on novels and short stories. Her short stories have featured in publications by CSFG, Specul8 and Deadset Press.

Book preview

Chapter One

BOOKS PILED HIGH ACROSS the table itched to be read. Papers waited to be marked. Dr Minnie Isaacs hunched over her desk, frowning as she hitched her size-too-big red cardigan about her shoulders. A gift from her nephew, Daniel, bought last Christmas before she’d started working out, she loved the cardigan too much to replace it even if it was a little roomy these days. Deep in thought, she spidered an olive hand across the desk to her coffee mug, taking a sip.

Her usual drop (that delectable boy, Ronnie) had left a small bundle outside her room. Undoing the thin cord, she’d thrown aside the wrappings to find a rolled-up map and a parchment note written in careful calligraphy. They contained a gold statue about the size of her palm – a mix of Greek and oriental influence, if she were any judge – as well as a string of shells. She hadn’t had a chance to translate the note written in ancient Greek yet and she couldn’t do so here. The objects alone, left at the university without clearance, were a risky gift. So risky that everything Ronnie had left must be important.

Minnie put her coffee cup on top of a book and reached for the statue, its metal body scored with tiny scratches. As she balanced it in the palm of her hand, sunshine managed to penetrate the dirty window, hitting the antique piece, and creating rainbows against the metal. Minnie’s breath caught at the object’s beauty. She’d seen similar Greek objects in stone, bronze and clay from the fouth century BC.

Footsteps sounded outside. Located right near the stairwell, Minnie’s room caught every thud of people ascending and descending. Cursing under her breath, she shoved the map, the note, the shell necklace and the statue inside her drawer and locked it. She’d just disposed of the key in her cardigan pocket, adjusted her reading glasses and picked up her favourite paperweight to place on some loose notes when Dr Anthony Mitchell appeared, grey hair spiked up with gel like he hadn’t left the ’80s and his shirt unbuttoned that bit too far. For a man happily married in his fifties, he stared at Minnie way too much, and in her late forties with a string of relationships under her belt, she was old enough to know that even if he had been single, he was exactly the kind of man she didn’t want around.

‘Been running again, have we?’ he asked, lips curling as he studied her gym bag stashed in one corner, dirty joggers in a heap beside it and mud tracks on the old carpet. ‘Such a sudden obsession, and at your age too.’

Minnie cleared her throat nervously. ‘It was a New Year’s resolution. My doc told me I’d avoid a lot of health issues if I shifted a little weight.’

‘Hmm,’ Dr Mitchell sneered as he stared at her hair, making her suddenly acutely aware that it was not only mousey brown and streaked with grey but was also coming loose from its ponytail. Why did Dr Mitchell always make her feel so much more aware of lumps, bumps and crowfeet, of bony wrists and blue veins beginning to show? Urgh. She loathed men like him who got hostile when the object of their attentions didn’t return the adoration they imagined they deserved. Still, experience told her that if she remained polite and neutral, he’d most likely soon go away.

His eyes suspiciously roved the naked Greek male statues surrounding them, the bookshelves, the piles of papers in English and ancient Greek, then came to rest on the mug sitting precariously on a book, and finally landed on Minnie clutching her marbled Hamsa Hand paperweight. His stare bored deep into her brown eyes, and she couldn’t shake the feeling he knew more than he was letting on. She’d long suspected Mitchell of being more than he seemed.

‘Jacob sent me to find you,’ he said. ‘You asked him to remind you about Larry Howard’s lecture. It starts in five minutes.’ He smirked. ‘What an ... interesting paperweight, Doctor Isaacs.’

Ronnie had given her the paperweight a month or so back, but there was no way Dr Mitchell could know that. Minnie struggled to keep her emotions in check as she carefully placed the Hamsa Hand on her desk. Damn Jacob, her hapless tutorial assistant. Why hadn’t he fetched her himself and spared her this uncomfortable encounter?

She forced a smile, picking up notebook and pen. ‘Thanks, Dr Mitchell. I’m very much looking forward to this particular guest lecture. It should be informative.’