“Good morning, Centerville! It’s Saturday, March 31st!”
I leapt from bed, staring wide-eyed at the nightstand clock radio. “Again?”
Rushing around my apartment, I confirmed the deejay was not pulling an April Fool’s prank. My journal ended March 30. I needed to dust and vacuum—again. And those soggy brown bananas
“Ain’t no way they ever put anybody up on that moon,” Hank Owens said confidently.
Mayor Geoff Collins raised an eyebrow. “How do you figure that?”
As Hank laughed, a thin stream of tobacco juice dribbled from the corner of his mouth. “They shot that rocket straight up into the air, right?
The war had ended. Our side had lost. We were refused the rights we’d fought for. The government had cheated us, and I needed revenge. It was rash, but I didn’t care. People already saw us as traitors, but maybe this plot would change their perspective. Somehow. I assembled a group of…
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“Your testimony is unfinished, Ensign Duffy. Sit.”
Duffy’s knees, already wobbly from stress, buckled, dumping him back down in the witness chair. He faced the unblinking Commodore Brice and her investigative panel.
This isn’t a trial. They promised me I wouldn’t be on trial. Which was true. Besides, I haven’t done anything wrong.
“Need a seatbelt, kid?” Gregory smirked.
Robin loosened his white-knuckled grip on the handrail. “I’m good.” He’d expected a wild ride, but time travel was like a thirty-story elevator drop into the past. The machine even dinged as it swooped to a stop. While Robin waited for his vertigo to pass…
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