The Arth Series

The Arth Series
Click on the picture above to go to the Smashwords giveaway.

Wednesday, 29 June 2011

Today

Today I revamped 'The Time Backwater III' because of the bad review yesterday. It now is a little crazier and made my head hurt (or was that the headache I had earlier.) Uploaded it to Smashwords at the library, seeing as my Internet is still off until tomorrow. My daughter helped me out yesterday and I can use my wife's Ipad to do some things, like update this blog! I don't know whether to do TTB as a daily thing or not. I need to make sure it is of a high enough standard of funniness, which can be quite stressful, but not as stressful as getting a bad review!

While I am doing a daily TTB then the fourth in the Arth series is not getting done. So I may only have to do a weekly TTB and adburp it on #FF or #WW with Twitter.

Tuesday, 28 June 2011

The Time Backwater III

The Time Backwater III
There was no pop as no re-routed time travellers appeared on the re-routing pads of precinct 19. That would be no popping today, if today meant anything in a folded time space sort of way. But no popping on a single day was quite unusual, there was always somebody trying to get somewhere in time at the same time as too many other people, but not today. The various work droids stood in their positions motionless, like extra dummies in an Indiana Jones film just before the nuke went off and he escaped in a fridge. That is if you have seen the film and you are not a time traveller from the early noughties. Otherwise this statement means nothing to you. It can’t have been Christmas that stopped them, droids were not working on the electrics therefore re-routing people to one of the other 23 precincts, and there was nothing special going on like a time war or an interdimensional war. No, things were just very quiet, a bit like a backwater really.
Splob the gnome patriarch popped his head round the corner of the fridge. He looked warily at the chef droid which stood there, standing still. This sounds a bit like an Ultravox song that sometimes played in the pneuma lifts, what a sad man the author was to have thunk this into existence. While he was trying to think of something funny to say Splob darted across to the food storage and transfer area. He stood by one of the food transfer machines and programmed it for fish and chips for 50. The machine started to grab orders of fish and chips from different time frames and different dimensions, some wrapped in paper, some in foil, some in card, some in polystyrene and some in vuminium. (Have you ever thought you had done something, like wrap up fish and chips, only to find that they weren’t wrapped? This is where all the food goes that you forget about or misplace.) He piled ten portions into a sack and skedaddled over to the open access tunnel grate and lowered the food into another pair of small hands. He then went back for some more, but while he was piling another ten portions into another bag a maintenance droid went past, this caught the motion sensors of the chef droid who looked back at the moving object. The chef droid’s line of sight fell upon a half filled bag of fish and chips on the floor near the food transfer machine. It went over to the bag, looked at it, picked it up then took it over and dropped it into the waste disposal machine. It then went over to the food transfer machine and started to take out the other portions and pile them into sacks to throw away. When it had filled one sack it started on another. Splob swapped sacks for others filled with baked bean tins, he did this another three times. The droid put one of the bean tin filled bags into the waste disposal. The tins grunched and ground on the machinery. The droid emptied the 3 other sacks of tinned baked beans into the machine until it ground to a halt. The droid pushed the start button but the machine had clogged up, like Marlon Brando choking on wads of cotton wool while making The Godfather. It warbled over to the ‘Call for maintenance droid’ button and pushed it then waited near the waste disposal machine.
Splob snuck the other 3 sacks of fish and chips out to the grate. While the two droids were concerned with the bean tinned state of the waste disposal he programmed another ten portions, bagged them and slipped down into the access tunnel pulling the grate over his head. The other gnome had started on a portion of fish and chips. Splob glared at him and collected two other bags and started off down the tunnel. The other gnome wiped his lips, re-wrapped his food, picked up two sacks and followed Splob.
At one minute past midnight there was nine loud pops and nine time travellers appeared on re-routing pads then headed toward the cafeteria for a snack between adventures, they saw an electronic sign displaying the words, ‘This cafeteria is unable to serve food at the moment due to unforeseen circumstances’. They looked for another food outlet.
 
 
You can buy The Crying Pennant (The first in the Arth Series) by Stephen Jennison-Smith from Amazon by going to this link-
http://t.co/N70BGPO via @amazon
You can also follow me on Twitter where you will get links to new Flash Fiction
@SJennison_Smith

Monday, 27 June 2011

The Time Backwater II

The Time backwater II

Pop.
  Sid and Arthur appeared on the re-routing pads again, but this time with a prisoner. A goblin named Malcolm.
  “You never explained to me why you are called Malcolm,” Said Arthur, “That is an unusual name for a goblin; it is usually something like Umpkin or Blogger?”
  “It’s cause me dad was called Malcolm, I’m really Malcolm the XIV.”
  “I get confused when we use Roman numerals, I thought 14 was XIIII?” said Sid.
  “Not really Sid,” droned Arthur in his superior than everyone else tone, “it was a king who wanted to make it easier to read clocks who put IIII instead of IV.”
  “Blobbin’ royalty,” moaned Sid, “always affecting us commoners!”
  “I ‘ave a similar problem with the Dark Lord, ‘es always telling us to pack up our troubles in our old kit bag and smile,”
  “Sounds like he is an aficionado of the real Earth’s First World War,” noted Arthur.
  “Eh?” ehd Malcolm.
  “That’s why I hate goblins,” said Sid, “let’s kill him now!”
  “Nooooooooooo, please mister dwarf, I have a wife and 6 sprogs to look after, and a large extended family”
  “You should have thought of that before you started trying to cause time paradoxes to kill us,” replied the dwarf.
  “Look, calm down Sid, try to control your dwarvish craving for revenge and goblin blood lust.”
  “Aww,” groaned Sid, “you always want to stop my fun!”
  “We cannot kill him anyway it might cause a time paradox.”
  “Yeah, we don’t want to cause a time paradox, do we?” grinned Malcolm in a smarmy way at Sid.
  Sid gritted his teeth and started to go really red in the face. Arthur grabbed him, “I am ordering you to calm down, go for a walk in the indoor garden, think about nice things, control your breathing. Count to X.”
  Sid looked at Arthur then turned and walked towards the indoor garden, “Flippin’ goblins I hate them!” he stomped.
  “And stop stomping,” warned Arthur.

  Sid walked around the garden a few times and started to think of nice things but then he fell right into an open manhole. “Ooch, me poore back, who was the fool who left a manhole open?” As his eyes adjusted to the dark he saw a small figure cowering in the access tunnel. “Hello. Who do we have here? I didn’t think there were any people who inhabited the Time Backwater?”
  The figure continued to cower. Sid went over to him, “Come on little chap, don’t be afraid. What’s your name?”
  “Splob,” said the small figure in a high voice.
  “Are you a gnome?” enquired Sid.
  “Yes, why?”
  “No reason, some of my best neighbours are gnomes. They own the silver mine next to mine. What are you doing here?”
  “I’m hiding from the re-transfer droids.”
  “Why are you hiding from them?”
  “In case they re-transfer me. I’ve heard it’s a nasty business.”
  “How long have you been in the Time Backwater?”
  “Give or take a day, 300 years.”
  “You’re nearly as old as me, that means. Did you come from the fantasy dimension?”
  “Yes, it was after the third goblin war.”
  “My dad died in those, that’s one of the reasons I hate goblins.”
  “Well that’s as maybe. I was brought here by a dodgy Interdimensional Police Person. He broke the electronic binding holding me and my wife, when he popped out we were left here.”
  “Dodgy eh. We have a friend in the Interdimensional Police Force, I’m sure he would like to know who the dodgy geezer is if he is still alive. It depends if he came from your future to arrest you or from your present.”
  “My present is now.”
  “No, I meant your present then, not now.”
  “That doesn’t make sense?”
  “Yes it does, well it does if you travel as much in time and different dimensions as we have had to. Do you want to go back to your time? We could help you.”
  Splob thought for a moment, “No thanks I have a wife and gnomelings, and grand gnomelings, and great grand gnomelings and great…”
  “Ok, I get the idea, you have been a very busy little gnome. Well, with all those gnomes in the place how come we haven’t seen one before?”
  “We keep to ourselves, and if we are caught by the re-transfer droids they try to re-transfer us. The thing is though that if they catch any of my descendants they get re-transferred back here again. This is where they were born. My wife and I are the only ones who would get sent back, that’s why I have to use the tunnels to scout for food.”
  “Where do you all live, haven’t you got a gnome to go to?”
  “What?”
  “Pun on the word gnome and home.”
  “Have you been listening to David Bowie?”
  “How do you know about him?”
  “The piped music in the pneuma lifts, they have a selection of 20th and 21st century earth music.”
  “It must be because so many time travelling destinations are going to big events in those centuries. Any way I’d better get back to Arthur and our prisoner.”
  “Prisoner?”
  “Yes, a goblin named Malcolm Xcetera or something like that.”
  “Ooh nasty, I hate goblins.”
  “Just like me, are we related do you think?”
  “Maybe in the mists of time, I think I have a dwarven ancestor somewhere, that’s why I’m so tall.”
  “Well if you need any help or anything special from one of the dimensions let me know and I’ll bring it with me next time.”
  “A wind up toothbrush?”
  “Why one of those?”
  “It is difficult to get batteries round here so a wind up one would be great.”
  “Ok, I’ll see what I can do.” Sid climbed out of the access tunnel staring into the face of Arthur who was dragging Malcolm with him.
  “Where have you been?” asked Arthur, “I said calm down not fall down.”
  “I have met a gnome called Splob in the access…” Just then the three of them popped out of the Time backwater.
  Splob pulled the manhole cover across, picked his sack of baked bean tins up and made his way down the access tunnel.







You can buy The Crying Pennant (The first in the Arth Series) by Stephen Jennison-Smith from Amazon by going to this link-
http://www.amazon.com/Crying-Pennant-Book-Arth-ebook/dp/B0056I5UAG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&m=A7B2F8DUJ88VZ&s=digital-text
&qid=1309185460&sr=1-1

You can also follow me on Twitter where you will get links to new Flash Fiction
@SJennison_Smith

Sunday, 26 June 2011

Sunday

On Sunday there is no time travel, unless you are travelling either from or to a Sunday of significance, which is not today.

Saturday, 25 June 2011

The Time Backwater I

I will try to write a daily Backwater blog.


The Time Backwater I

The Time Backwater is a floating shopping precinct in non-space. The space between space and time. If Interdimensional Wrist Transporters are being heavily used for a certain time period in history any excess time travellers are re routed to the Time Backwater until the backlog can be dealt with. Arthur, King of the Britons and Sid the dwarf popped onto the scene on a re-routing pad in one of the many hives of waiting rooms on the lower floor of the precinct.
“Great,” said Arthur, “the time backwater again. I wonder how long we will be here this time?”
“Time doesn’t exist here oh grumpy one.”
“It is usually you who is grumpy.”
“You must have taken a grumpy tablet today.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Grumpy tablets?”
Just then an usher droid entered, “Please stand away from the RRP.”
“Recommended Retail Price?” queried Sid.
“Re-Routing Pad,” said the droid.
“Keep your knickers on,” said Sid in a hoity toity way.
“Hoity toity,” said Arthur, “That’s a new one. I bet your spell checker is flagging up toity.”
“Yes it is, Why?” asked I.
“Oh, no reason. Just thought I would comment.”
“Can’t you do anything about us being here Author?” asked Sid.
“Of course I can, but this gives us extra non-time to get to know each other and for the readers to do the same.”
“But it’s so booooooring in non-time. I’ve played all the video games, visited all the indoor gardens, raced round the mall on fleeby deebers and it’s all booooooring!” griped Sid.
“Actually those two wheeled fleeby deebers were fun,” commented Arthur.
“They were a bit. Can you remember when we hit that stack of baked bean tins in the refectory? They went all over and the place and the chef droid chased us out. Then one of your tyres started to go down and you started flibbing and flobbing all over. He nearly caught you.”
“That was scary, I could have gone to the holding cells for a long non-time.”
“I went there once, saw Alexander Hartdegan there.”
“Really? I thought he was just a made up fictional character in HG Wells’s science fiction book?”
“So a bit like us then.”
Arthur looked at Sid. Sid looked at Arthur. “Goooo on then,” gooed Sid as he and Arthur set off for the rack of fleeby deebers. Before they had even flubbled half way down the plaza they both popped out of the Time Backwater. A collecting droid shimmied over to the fallen fleeby deebers and started to take them back to the nearby fleeby deeber racks.