Time-Rift

by Elena Dorothy Bowman

A time-slip novel that takes you beneath the waters of the Pacific to a world that shouldn't exist.

ISBN 1-59431-818-2 Science-Fiction/Romance.

Sample

Chapter 1

Trisha looked out the window as the small plane moved down the auxiliary field and lifted off in spite of the seemingly tangled mess strewn on the right side of two major runways. From her vantage point inside the ship, Trisha Holden could see the entire airport. Planes were crookedly out of line only on one side of two of its major runways. It was almost as if they were playing follow the leader. She could see some of the damaged planes being moved to empty hangers, on the far end of the tarmac, in order to clear the field for the incoming planes. It was a strange sight to say the least, and Trisha couldn't help but wonder why the planes were so disarrayed, instead of being lined up, as they normally would be, and safely tucked within their assigned gates ready to take on passengers.

From what she overhead from the pilots milling about the concourse, as she waited to board her plane, even the pilots involved in the mishap weren't absolutely certain as to what caused them to skid off the runway. All they knew was that they did. She remembered them saying that it seemed as if the runway moved as they were landing their planes. Really, she thought. They actually said that? They must have been seeing things.

She heard one of the passengers saying that "The pilots could have sworn the runways moved sort of like a roller coaster just as they were touching down, and as they did so, the strange effect took complete control of the landing. Each pilot tried desperately to regain control, but they were unable to do so until the planes were actually off the runway. At first they all believed the shimmering effect on the runways was like that of massive heat waves, rising one after another off the concrete, as it does on hot, humid, sunny days. It wasn't until their wheels touched down, did they realize something else was going on beneath their plane, and said they actually felt the ground beneath them shifting. If what they say is true," she added, "it's no wonder that so many pilots missed the runway."

Trisha had wondered at the time, what the passenger was talking about, and what would cause anyone to make a comment like that. She thought the statements coming from the pilots were strange, and what was even stranger to her was the fact that their comments were made within earshot of worried passengers. Passengers who felt that they had narrowly escaped being seriously hurt or that something even more catastrophic could have happened. Well, Trisha's thoughts continued, they could be right. All the planes could have crashed or exploded when they landed. But thankfully that didn't happen. The passengers were only shaken up…nothing more.

Even now, as she flew away from the airport she still couldn't get the real meaning of the pilots' comments out of her mind. Did they know something that she didn't know and were keeping mum about it or were they just as in the dark about it as she was? Or, which was far more important, was there really a problem? A problem that could be far more devastating than it appeared to be at the time. If so, what are the "powers that be" going to do about it?

Trisha looked up and away from the activities on the ground and beyond. In the distance the sporadic belching of Mauna Loa and Kilauea, against the mountain ranges and lush-green vegetation, captivated her. As long as 'Pele's' anger is contained we have nothing to worry about. But she couldn't help hoping that when Kilauea sputtered in an angry, reddish/orange eruption that she might be around to see its fiery red hot lava flow down along the side of the mountain -- but from a safe, really safe, distance. She smiled inwardly thinking about that aspect, as the inter-island plane continued its flight over the various islands in the Hawaiian chain, bringing her closer to Maui and home.

She strained to catch a glimpse below as her plane closed in on Pearl Harbor and when the plane circled over Pearl, as it did on a regular basis, a pensive look crossed Trisha's face. She stared down on the Memorial where over two thousand men were entombed. She watched, mesmerized, as drop by drop, oil seeped to the surface from the watery grave below, perpetuating the minor oil slick, which began its odyssey more than over fifty years before and she shivered slightly as goose-bumps crept over her. Brushing aside a tear, Trisha looked away.