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Back Dark Stars Save as PDF
Chapters (51)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Part One
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. Part Two
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. Part Three
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. Part Four
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. Part Five
  46. 39
  47. Acknowledgments
  48. About the Author
  49. Books by Danielle Rollins
  50. Back Ad
  51. About the Publisher

“Find him,” Dorothy whispered to herself. She thought of the golden-haired pilot who smelled of campfire smoke, and couldn’t help smiling. “Bring him home.”

She pushed the throttle to 2,000 RPMs.

The Black Crow shot forward, disappearing into the crack in time.

LOG ENTRY—SEPTEMBER 22, 2074

APPROXIMATELY 12:00 HOURS

LOCATION—CASCADIA SUBDUCTION ZONE

Take two.

Crazy though it may seem, I am currently sitting inside of my trusty old rowboat, floating just outside the limits of the Cascadia subduction zone. I have reinjected myself with exotic matter and I’m confident that, this time, I’ve managed to do it correctly.

Relatively confident. I’d say I’m working at about 80 percent confidence here.

Woah. Okay. I didn’t realize I would be so nervous. Let’s just say that I don’t want to deal with the skin-burning sensation, again. That was unpleasant, as was the fact that I wasn’t able to move my hands or feet for several weeks afterward. I would very much like to avoid going through that again.

I’d like to avoid it so much that I almost don’t want to do this.

Oh to hell with it all—I’m a scientist, aren’t I? It’s time to do this. Fear be damned!

Wish me luck. I’m certain I’ll need it.

Part Two

People like us, who believe in physics, know that the distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.

—Albert Einstein

LOG ENTRY—UNKNOWN

TIME—UNKNOWN

LOCATION—UNDETERMINED

I’ve only just regained consciousness. It appears that I’ve landed in a secluded field somewhere outside of Seattle.

Or, I suppose I should say that I believe I’m somewhere outside of Seattle. From where I sit, all I can see are pine trees and wild grass; flat, gray sky; and the distant, burning sun. I’ll need to hike a bit before I can make out the city skyline. Until then, I’m taking it on faith that I’m still on the West Coast at all. And I have no way of knowing when I’ve landed. Or how to get back.

But at least I still have my skin attached to my body (unlike some other, less lucky, would-be time travelers I can name . . .). I suppose I should consider myself thankful for small mercies.

I shall update soon.

UPDATE: TIME STILL UNDETERMINED

I’ve successfully hiked to the area that was once known as Lower Queen Anne. For those of you reading who are familiar with the city of Seattle as it existed in the year 2074, this neighborhood is where the Space Needle stood.