Orphans of Dead Futures

By Gareth Lewis

When their potential futures are erased, time travellers have no home to return to. Abandoned to the present, they fit in as best they can, or are hunted by orphan-killers who keep the future from infecting the status quo. But someone else is murdering orphans. And a murder machine from a lost future is hunting a woman who keeps uncontrollably slipping through time. Hiding in a normal life becomes harder, as stories of the future and the past collide, each trying to influence the present.

A time travel novella.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gareth Lewis
• Release date: Dec 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215114209

Gareth Lewis

Gareth Lewis has written a number of novels and shorter works in a few genres, including fantasy, science fiction, and thrillers. A programmer, he has a degree in computer studies, and lives in South Wales.

Book preview

Orphans of Dead Futures

Gareth Lewis

Copyright 2023 Gareth Lewis

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Any piracy of this work shall result in the forfeiture of the pirate’s soul to the author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

AI was used to produce the cover of this book, but not the story. That is purely the product of NS (Natural Stupidity).

Language Note

This novel is written in British English, so contains spelling differences from American English.

December 1st, 2022

‘To say your timekeeping sucks seems redundant,’ said Ginger. Doing nothing but sipping coffee while waiting for him to do a sweep of the café’s surroundings had left her on edge. She’d done the same, finding no one and nothing of interest. That was why they’d chosen the venue.

John intercepted one of the wait staff to order his coffee before taking the seat opposite.

‘Feature of the job,’ said John.

She doubted that. Or that it explained his paranoia. A police lieutenant was primarily a desk job, so the alertness with which he stalked through the world was a holdover.

‘Once or twice, perhaps. Every time is a pattern.’

‘Yet you continue to expect me on time, and comment on it.’

‘It starts the conversation. Neither of us is good at small talk.’

‘Suppose not.’

His coffee arrived. John poured sugar in like it was milk. Then he added a sachet of something from his pocket.

‘If you don’t like coffee, why order it?’

John shrugged. ‘Not enough additives in this time. Everything tastes... off. Like I’m sucking on a coffee plant.’

‘Would you prefer a plastic cup?’

‘They never taste like proper plastic.’

‘How long have you been in this time period? And you still haven’t adapted.’

‘I’ve adapted,’ he said. ‘Just not to their warped idea of coffee.’

‘Was coffee in your time artificial.’

He shrugged. ‘Not something I ever investigated. But besides that, I’ve left the future behind.’

‘Other than having the same job.’

‘Similar job. It offered a familiarity that was comfortable at the start.’

She imagined the laws were all he’d had. He’d never mentioned anyone he’d left behind, though it might simply be too hard a subject, now they no longer existed. It wasn’t as though they shared anything of any depth, and she also avoided dwelling on her past.

‘New job, again?’ he asked.

‘You asking if I’m breaking the law?’

‘Trying to avoid it. I assume you wouldn’t tell me if you were.’

‘Relax. I’m doing volunteer work.’ Supported by the proceeds of crime from outside his jurisdiction, though he might not appreciate the nuance.

‘Always changing jobs though. Guess you’re not adapting either.’

‘It’s a lifestyle choice. I’m not as old as you, so not ready to settle down.’

He gave a tired smile.

‘I’ve adapted.’ She was sure she sounded believable. ‘I’m just enjoying this world. You know. Joy. Relaxation.’

‘I’m familiar with the concepts. But I’m wary of asking what you do for fun.’

‘I walk in the countryside. A countryside where you don’t need to wear a breather. Mostly. Or a radiation meter. Where the green parts aren’t all the exclusive province of the rich. It reminds me that the fight, the sacrifices, were worth it. That this is what winning the future looks like.’ If only viewed as an outsider.

‘But it’s not your future.’

‘No, thankfully. And you stopped yours becoming worse.’

‘Perhaps.’ He stared at his coffee. ‘I stopped one worse future. But lost the one I came from. Replacing a good future with uncertainty.’

‘Good is a matter of perspective.’

His gaze settled on her. Not hard, but more guarded. She should practice diplomacy.

‘Do you miss it?’ he asked. ‘The fight.’

‘Nah. The last time was stopping a group from a divergent invading timeline whose future was even worse. They had these ridiculous powered armour suits. How can you fight those? Obviously, we did, and won. But it kinda felt like we peaked. Nothing left to fight for by that point anyway, and I was really the only one left.’

‘That doesn’t sound like your fight anyway. Why get involved?’

‘She was involved.’

‘Your enemy.’

‘Opponent.’ Ginger shrugged. ‘Sometimes enemy. You fight someone long enough, it gets complicated.’

‘You do anything long enough, it gets complicated.’

‘I’ll take your word for it, old timer. And you? Do you miss it?’ She sipped her coffee.

He shrugged, and took a moment to reply. ‘I still have laws to uphold. More openly now. With support. The old mission, I’d have aged out of.’

He still looked nostalgic.

‘Never had any long-term jobs in my future,’ she said. None that had offered any degree of comfort. ‘They were mainly a matter of survival. The only real role that stuck was freedom fighter.’

‘Terrorist.’

She met his gaze, tempering the edge from her tone. ‘Freedom fighter.’

‘Matter of perspective, I suppose.’

‘No, it isn’t. I never targeted civilians.’

‘Put fear in them though.’

‘You’ve gotta wake up to be afraid.’

‘Have you not heard of nightmares?’

They