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Time's Deformèd Hand
Time's Deformèd Hand
Time's Deformèd Hand
Ebook47 pages38 minutes

Time's Deformèd Hand

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It’s 1600 in an alternate Switzerland, a world where Da Vinci’s mechanical automatons and human-powered flight almost work, thanks to magic trees. Long-separated twins, Georg the reluctant groom and Georg the clock thief, roam the clocklike village of Spätbourg, beset by more time and date errors than you can shake an hour hand at. Will Georg get married after all, and repair the town’s central tower clock? Will Georg—the other one—purloin more timepieces, or give up his pilfering ways? Will William Shakespeare lend a hand, and some iambic pentameter poetry, to reset the cogs and gears of this zany comedy? Only time will tell . . . or maybe not, in this ultimate clockpunk tale of mistaken identity and temporal mix-ups.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateNov 15, 2014
ISBN9781619502413
Time's Deformèd Hand
Author

Steven R. Southard

Growing up in the Midwest, Steven R. Southard always found the distant oceans exotic and tantalizing. He served aboard submarines and now works as a civilian naval engineer. In his stories, he takes readers on journeys of discovery in many seas and various vessels. Steve has written in the historical, science fiction, fantasy, horror, and steampunk genres. Come aboard at http://sites.google.com/site/stevenrsouthard/ and voyage with his intriguing characters in tales of aquatic adventure.

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    Time's Deformèd Hand - Steven R. Southard

    Contents

    Copyright Page

    Dedication

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    About the Author

    Time’s Deformèd Hand

    by

    Steven R. Southard

    All rights reserved

    Copyright © October 13, 2014, Steven R. Southard

    Cover Art Copyright © 2014, Charlotte Holley

    Gypsy Shadow Publishing, LLC.

    Lockhart, TX

    www.gypsyshadow.com

    Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

    No part of this book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Gypsy Shadow Publishing, LLC.

    Smashwords Edition, 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 return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    ISBN: 978-1-61950-241-3

    Published in the United States of America

    First eBook Edition: November 15, 2014

    Dedication

    To all my English teachers from elementary school through high school and college. I may have forgotten your names, but not the love of language and story you conveyed. Believe it or not, some lessons got through and stuck with me. If I obeyed the rules while writing this tale, the credit goes to you. For any rules I broke, I’ll take the blame, and I’m sorry.

    Chapter 1

    The clock in the tower overlooking the town of Spätbourg struck five, though several minutes late. On this sixteenth day of June in 1600, Heinrich Jäger descended toward the center of town, having flown over the Alps using a set of rented daVinci wings. Twelve narrow streets radiated out from the circular courtyard, and a curved outer street circumscribed the whole town. Soaked in sweat from flapping the aerial contraption, he turned it in to the daVinci Wing Exchange office. From there he walked straight to the local municipal building. Hoping he wasn’t already too late, he’d come to warn yet another village about his son.

    Five minutes later, Heinrich had introduced himself to the Wachmeister—the local constable—and sat across from him at a desk in the police office.

    My son is a thief. He may already be in your town, or will arrive shortly. It’s my sad duty as a loyal citizen of the Swiss Confederacy to warn you about him.

    Wachmeister Baumann looked up, nodded, and then twisted his moustache, which jutted out to both sides in large waxed spirals, ending in tapered points. The moustache made his face look like a clock stopped at nine-fifteen. He dipped his quill in ink and let it hover over the paper on which he’d

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