The Theta Prophecy Read Online Free PDF Page B

traveler’s stubble, along with his clothes, would have made him blend in with the masses of homeless men in one of the Tyranny’s bustling cities. Instead of having clothes that were too large or too small for them, patches covering the various holes, each of the five hunters or warriors or whatever they were, had perfectly sewn clothes made of fur and animal hides.
    One of the natives said something to him, but the time traveler didn’t understand it. In response, he tapped his chest and said, “I am Anderson.” Then, opening his hands to them and pointing to himself again, repeated, “Anderson.”
    “Anderson,” one of the natives said and the time traveler smiled. Then the man added, “Berzou,” and tapped himself on the chest.
    Anderson smiled and pointed at the man: “Berzou.”
    The men all relaxed. The bows, which had never been aimed directly at him, now dangled from each of their hands.
    “March-eh,” said another native.
    Anderson smiled and repeated the man’s name.
    “Shvisveong,” another said, and Anderson repeated this back to the man as well.
    The other two, Aris-stat and Chiasenson, didn’t want to be left out and introduced themselves in similar fashion. Anderson repeated their names as well. He had no idea how one would spell such names with an English alphabet—would the third native’s name be spelled Shuiseuong, Sveweswong, Shoov-E-Sue-Ong, or even something else?—but he felt he was off to a nice start all the same.
    After he had repeated each name, the natives took turns pointing at their guest who had fallen from the sky and who was barely wearing any clothes, saying, “Anderson,” and smiling.
    Once finished with the introductions, the natives motioned toward their village. Anderson nodded and began walking with them in that direction. Periodically, as they made their way between the ocean on the left and a line of trees to their right, one of the men would say something and Anderson would respond with a pleasant nod.
    Most of the shore they walked across consisted of tiny pebbles, but every once in a while they would pass giant boulders, lone titans slowly battered by the endless waves. On the smaller rocks, tiny insects, some no larger than crickets, skittered over the wet rocks as they looked for food. Pelicans congregated along mounds of lava rock turned blue by the ocean salt and sun, ignoring the men to focus instead on the schools of fish making their way in the shallow waters.
    Nearer the village, the forest’s edge receded back in an arc where the natives had chopped down spruce and pine to make a wider clearing for the center of their village. Houses dotted the land in no discernable semblance of uniformity, some built within feet of one another and others separated by an acre of open marsh.
    As they entered the village, the five warriors nodded and offered various words to the locals. A woman with a scar running down from her eye all the way to her mouth put a blanket over Anderson’s shoulders. A teenage boy, with shoulders that jutted out to the sides like an Olympic swimmer’s, patted Anderson on the back and pointed to a duck that was being roasted over an open fire.
    Anderson was unsure whether they still thought he might be some kind of deity or if they merely took him to be a normal visitor. He couldn’t have asked for a warmer welcome, though, and after a boy ran up to him with a cup of something warm and sweet to drink, he officially felt these people were his new friends.
    Somewhere, in another time, his real family would no doubt be expecting a visit from the Tyranny’s men. Their crime? They were related to a suspected Thinker, someone who questioned the Tyranny’s motives and saw through its propaganda. But knowing how time worked, going back into the past to change the Theta Timeline would still be the best way to help them. Even if it meant that in his old reality, the two people he loved the most were dragged away by the Tyranny’s men and never