Prologue

FEW KNEW WHAT IT MIGHT FEEL LIKE to make a time jump. Those intrepid explorers who possibly survived were either unable to return or simply chose not to report their location, preferring not to be found. They were simply labeled as WTRs, Waiting to Returns. Yet, there was little incentive to come back from an unsuccessful mission to a failing society on the brink of extinction.

The risk of traveling through time would have its rewards they were told, but secretly those time travelers also held onto the hope that they could possibly escape to a more successful, advanced civilization.

At the beginning of the time travel experiments, human volunteers were very scarce as negative rumors had been spread regarding the many unsuccessful dog trials. However, there were always sufficient volunteers from a more expendable community.

 “We’ve made all the necessary changes to ensure the safety and reliability of the program.” So they were told.

Today would be different. The equipment and procedures first initiated in the dog trials were much improved, and scientists had experienced some successes. Most of the time, the test dogs had arrived back from other dimensions, but then again, those results were often suspect, blurred within the haze of scientific reporting.

There was definitely an urgency to make this very critical journey. Grippland was in desperate need of volunteer explorers to bring back answers or any discoveries that might help save their civilization from premature aging.

When the first human trials began, scientists were not able to calculate the probability of success. They had naturally assumed that the volunteers who disappeared were still alive somewhere in time.

It was more likely that the explorers were lost in time. That would be the most hopeful conclusion. Of course, substantial rewards for success were promised to the volunteers if and when they ever returned and reported their findings.

The Grippland Eye of Time Exploration Team waited anxiously in the laboratory antechamber to enter the time capsule. The four female and six male team members quickly exchanged furtive glances, attempting to allay their fears by monitoring one another for any hopeful facial expressions.

“There is nothing to worry about.” They had been assured. “You will simply experience a smooth and seamless transition as if you are moving into a dream.”

The exploratory team’s training had been rigorous, but brief. Volunteers were hard to come by, especially those with the type of qualifications that could provide all the various scientific services needed at their destination.

Each team member had successfully passed a barrage of mental and physical tests and completed a basic course in survival tactics designed to increase their ability to succeed. Actually, these tests were programmed by High Command to weed out those prone to weakness or uncontrolled fear.

But there was extreme fear festering in the ten volunteers who were reflecting back on their lives as they entered the foreboding glass and steel time capsule, filled with a labyrinth of twisting wires wrapped around a multitude of the odd-shaped, metallic, and plastic components.

Six shadowy figures, dressed in white lab coats, silently motioned for them to sit with their backs against a blue transparent cylinder. The well-trained, expressionless attendants methodically strapped the ten team members into padded chairs and cross-checked their helmets and breathing gear. There would be no turning back now.

Adrenalin released by fear pulsed through them as they attempted once again to exchange reassuring glances with one another, but that was impossible since now they were locked in place. Within moments, they would be experiencing another reality, so they were told.

Their minds were racing, reviewing all the various details of their training as if that knowledge alone could or would somehow enable them to survive the time jump.

A moment later, the door to the time capsule slammed shut, and a heavy concussion of air echoed and reverberated throughout the chamber.

Outside the capsule, lab technicians carefully observed the streaming data on their various instrument panels, monitoring for signs of excessive stress from the team members and for any possible abnormalities with the functioning of the highly sensitive, magnetic core contained within the cylinder.

A robotic, female voice announced, “Prepare for departure. Breathe deeply. Prepare for departure! You must now control your breathing. Count to four on the in-breath and four again on the out-breath.”

Team Captain, Grist #1, took a long deep breath as his mind drifted off to the possibility of his redemption by completing a successful mission. The probability of sudden death would not deter him from the opportunity of clearing his name and reputation as a successful Gripp General.

Unbridled fear coursed through the veins of each team member as extreme pressure built up within the cabin. A powerful vibrational force passed through them as the core was charged to its full capacity.

Within seconds, a high-pitched, whirring sound enveloped the entire chamber. A shock wave from the powerful magnetic field pulsed through their bodies.

And then…there was nothing!

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