I have been a little less active on my blog this weekend. The reason for this is that I am now proof reading Though the Nethergate. It is a bit more of an effort than I expected as a lot of the thoughts of my characters throughout the book are not in italics as they need to be. I expect it went wrong somehow in the copy and paste process. I am being meticulous in checking that I catch them all as part of my changes. It is a time consuming process and I have spent a good few hours doing it this weekend. I still have 150 pages to go over the next week.

As I go along, I have been creating a few new picture advertisements to help advertise this new book. Let me know what you think of these two:

From the diary of Jennifer Saunders

14 June

It has been an incredible few weeks. John arrived home for three weeks of annual leave on 30 May, just in time to participate in the global reference and vote in favour of the implementation of a new world government. The atmosphere at the polling stations was festive with everyone exciting about the prospect of change and action finally being taken on a global basis for the climate change and other issues facing our planet.

My spirits were high as we both joined in the singing and jubilation while we waited in the queue. One enthusiastic chap was attempting to compose a new world government national anthem, picking out chords on his guitar and singing lustily.

The voting process went fairly quickly with the on-line voting going off without a hitch. The only hiccup was having to have our identity documents physically checked by volunteers. This will be the last time this process is performed physically. The world government has plans to insert identification microchips into all citizens hands so you’ll just wave your hand over the scanner and the rest of the process will be automated. Isn’t progress great?

When the results of the poll were announced on 5 June and humanity was advised that the new world government would be implement, the partying went on all night in the usual British tradition of huge street parties. John and I spent a bit of time celebrating with our neighbours but at 12 P.M. we both faded and retired inside to bed. John is a light sleeper so I was worried that the on-going noise would keep him awake. The fact that he fell into a deep sleep within minutes indicates how exhausted he still is even after a week of being on holiday.

His most recent assignment was in MidWest of the USA which is suffering multiple tornadoes and flooding. There have even been a few instances of snow.

He showed me the most poignant picture of a man and his dog in a canoe, paddling down Highway 61 in Missouri. The bottom of the canoe was packed with sandbags which he was using to try and hold back floodwaters from the Mississippi River. The sight of man and his best friend in this struggle against the forces of nature brought tears to my eyes.

I have taken a similar amount of time off work and am also delighted to have the break. My hours have been extremely long again and my latest assignment didn’t run smoothly at all.

Despite the heavy rains and flooding that is currently taking place in the UK, we have being having a wonderful time exploring some historical sites that are new to us and taking long rambling walks in St James Park.

It is strange to me why John isn’t stationed in the UK to help deal with our own flooding emergencies. The flooding here has caused widespread disruption with roads, railways and hospitals being flooded. There was a bit of flooding here in London with some railway lines into the city being closed as authorities struggled to cope with a month’s worth of rain in a single day.

John had an exciting piece of news which he shared with me after swearing me to secrecy. “I’ve been invited to go for an interview to be part of the new world government military and strategic rescue task force,” he said. “If I get the job, I’ll be trained in military technologies. I think it will be a great extension of my current skills as a rescue operations team leader.”

“What does that mean, John?” I asked.

“There has been a concern among governments for quite a while that with the potential increase in world-wide unemployment due to increasing automation, combined with the economic and societal impact of climate change, will lead to fragmentation, segregation and social unrest in an increasingly hyper-connected world. Just think about it,” his voice rose with enthusiasm for his topic, “social media platforms can be used by trouble makers to share controversial and anti-establishment views among like-minded groups of people. It can effectively be used to narrow people’s sources of news to those that share similar interests and viewpoints creating increased polarisation.

The new leadership recognises this threat and is of the view that future conflicts are likely to come from non-government sources and will definitely include a cyber-dimension. It makes sense because no modern opponent will pass up the opportunity to disrupt, confuse or destroy their enemy’s sensors, communications and decision-making capabilities. They are planning to form a group of elite military teams to help deal with any potential conflicts as they arise. There are going to be different areas of specialisation including threats posed by drones, autonomous weapons, nanomaterial’s, biological and biochemical weapons, wearable devices and distributed energy sources.”

I gazed at him. I had never thought about modern technology posing a threat in this way before. “Which area are you interested in?”

“If I get selected, I’ll ask to focus on lethal autonomous weapons. I’ve always been interested in robotic weapons and this may be my opportunity to develop that interest. “

“When is your interview?”

“Early next week. I hope to hear the outcome before I leave to re-join my team. I have to give three months’ notice and the world government expects to have formed its primary structures by October and will be announcing its plans for significant changes by the end of this year. They want the military forces in place before the announcements go out in case there are any adverse reactions that need to be dealt with.”

Why did he bring up his leaving? It’s going to be hard for me when he goes again. I assume he’ll be going back to the MidWest as that situation is not yet over. I’m not going to think about his leaving now. I’m just going to enjoy the next few precious days we have together.

This post was written for Linda G. Hill’s weekly SoCS prompt: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “leaves.” Use it as a noun or a verb. Have fun! You can join in here: https://lindaghill.com/2019/06/21/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-june-22-19/

Thank you to James Cudney, prolific drama and cozy mystery author, for this amazing review of Death Among Us, an anthology of murder mystery short stories by ten authors, including me. If you enjoy books, do visit Jay’s lovely book, he writes reviews daily of all the amazing books he reads and has a great selection of his own books too.

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

My favorite book genre is mysteries. With so many wonderful authors and series, it’s often difficult to decide what to read next, especially when you’re looking to expand your horizons with something new. That’s often why I’ll turn to an anthology of short stories, as collections allow you to sample a dozen or so writers who hold a vast array of experiences and styles. This month, I took a chance on one called ‘Death Among Us,’ published in July of 2019 and edited by Stephen Bentley. In this fantastic collection, readers are exposed to ~10 authors who have each contributed 3 stories. What’s even better is that the three stories are generally connected to one another, so it’s almost like reading a mini novella several times over.

Prior to each author’s stories, there’s a lively and informative intro about what readers are getting themselves into. The writer will tell us if the stories are connected by the same character or a similar murder plot, a continuation of the previous tale but with a twist, or something even more dastardly and thrilling. I enjoyed this aspect of the anthology, as often in these types of books, each author only has a single story. With three, we get a better feel for their voice, style, and tone. The collection kicks off with the award-winning editor’s ‘The Rose Slayer’ stories, where homicide cops trace a killer who leaves behind a calling card. It spoke to me for many reasons, but to watch the transition from the first to the second and the last story, I felt like I could understand the motivation and operating procedures / boundaries of the heroes (and possibly the serial killer too!).

Another favorite is Robbie Cheadle, an author who’s participated in another short story collection that I’ve read as well as written many children’s books with her sons. What a vastly different style across her entire inventory of books and stories… to kick off with, in ‘Justice is Never Served,’ we have a woman who murders babies! Then there are the chimney sweeping killers (not what you’re thinking either!)… Cheadle delivers just the right amount of gore and thrills without going over the top, as the topic could be quite difficult to swallow. The best parts of her three stories are how they are all based on some sort of true story… which makes the tale even more horrific. She’s definitely cultivated her talents in these three tales, and I hope to see a full-length horror novel from her one day.

Carry on reading here: https://thisismytruthnow.com/2019/06/21/book-review-death-among-us-by-stephen-bentley-editor-of-the-anthology/

From the notes of Patricia Hurley – 15 November 2024

The lasts stop on the tour of the new residential development was the food distribution centre. Residents of the development would be able to collect monthly food parcels from here.

“Hi, I’m Jane,” said the perky, young social worker who was facilitating a delivery of basic foodstuffs. “The food centre is where residence will collect their monthly food rations. These will comprise of basics like tea, coffee, sugar, dried milk, canned goods, cereals, biscuits and soya products. All the small items people need to make their lives comfortable and pleasant. The residence will also collect their monthly coupons for the canteen which will serve all lunches and dinners.”

“I noticed there are no shopping facilities in the development,” said Jack, a community psychologist. “Where do the residents purchase additional food if they want it?”

“They can’t,” said Jane. “Only light meal preparation is allowed in the apartments and residents may not bring food from external sources into the development. Food is to be prepared, cooked and clean up centrally in the most energy and resource efficient way. All food provided to residence will be artificially created and will contain all the healthy nutrients needed for a healthy diet.  There will be no junk foods and all meals will be free of harmful ingredients. The world government does not support self-inflicted health problems such as obesity, and is taking steps to limit people’s choices in that regard.”

“And what happens if they break the rules?” enquired Jack.

“They will be transported to a prison development in one of the endangered areas.”

“Endangered areas?”

“Oh, those places that are being most impacted by global warming and are high risk for natural disasters.”

On the bus back to central London, Elizabeth and I discussed our visit. “I think the world government has done a fairly good job with this programme. They seem to have thought of every need the residents will have from healthcare to schooling, as well as entertainment,” Elizabeth said. “There are some strict controls being put in place, but maybe that is not a bad thing. Too much rope has allowed people to hang themselves in the recent past so some enforced discipline may be appropriate.”

“Yes, I think you are right,” I said, but my lips were playing service to the words. Elizabeth’s early comment about the lack of genetic engineering laboratories, Jane’s comments about the food regulations and the impersonal persona of the entire development disturbed me. Squashing the unemployed and unemployable people of the world into a housing estate, even if it was a state-of-the-art one, just didn’t seem like the right thing to be doing.” It’s so white and unappealing. That place would make the most resilient of people depressed. People’s human rights are also under threat.

If you missed it and are interested, you can read a bit more about the development here: https://robertawrites235681907.wordpress.com/2019/06/15/socs-social/

This post was written for Sue Vincent’s weekly write photo prompt. I chose choices for my post. You can join in here: https://scvincent.com/2019/06/13/thursday-photo-prompt-choices-writephoto-2/

From the notes of Patricia Hurley – 15 November 2023

“Each building consists of five thousand identical 72 m² apartments, each with an open plan kitchen, dining and living area, one bathroom comprising of a shower stall, a wash basin and a toilet and two bedrooms,” extoled the guide, who introduced himself as Sam. “Solar photovoltaic systems power each building, but the lights and hot water in the apartments is centrally controlled so as to prevent excessive use by tenants. Showers are limited to 5 minutes a day per resident of the apartment. Each apartment has its own large screen TV which will air a selection of programmes and other entertainment provided free of charge by the world government.”

“I can’t believe there are hundreds of these developments being built all over the world?” I said aloud.

“It is rather astonishing,” said the guide with noticeable pride. Five thousand people will be housed in each of these apartment blocks with a total of five hundred thousand people being housed in each development.”

Sam led us into the building and into an elevator on the ground floor. He punched the button for the 50^th floor.

The corridor was painted whited and the protective flooring was a dull brown. Sam withdrew a card from his pocket and scanned himself into one of the apartments. Slipping the card into the electricity activation slot on the wall, he said: “Isn’t it great.” The bright LED lights illuminated the tiny room dominated by a huge TV screen on the wall.  Sam grabbed the remote control attached to the wall and flicked a button. The dark screen lit up and a menu popped up showing the selection of available programmes. For your viewing pleasure, played across the top of the screen in large text. There was a choice of three news programmes, over thirty reality shows and a selection of soap opera style shows.

There’s nothing on the list that will stimulate creativity or innovation in any way.

“Are these all the options?” I asked.

“Yes, isn’t it enough? There are fifty channels to choose from. I don’t know why we need three news channels, but some people might like it. Very generous if you ask me.”

I smiled at this poor, misguided youth. “Yes, it is certainly very generous.”

He flicked another switch on the remote and another menu appeared. I squinted at the small incons displayed on the screen and realised that this menu set out a vast selection of social media choices. All the current favourites were featured including Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp, WeChat, Tumblr, Twitter, Skype, Pinterest, WordPress, Facetime and many others.

“The buildings all have free Wi-Fi twenty four hours a day. All of the occupants of the development will be able to access the network using either their television or their iphone. Did you know every occupant will receive a free iphone? These will be upgraded every three years.” The glee in this voice was unmistakable. Our guide was one hundred percent sold on the development.

Sam held up the remote for general inspection by the group. “Look how nifty this remote is? You can type text messages on it just like a cell phone. You can also send and receive emails, if you want to.”

“I’ve saved the best for last.” Sam flicked the third button on the remove and a list of games came up. “All the newest games will be available to residents. It is unbelievable awesome.

“And,” he said, “there is no restriction on data or downloads, you can use as much as you like for as long as you like. The network doesn’t switch off at 10 P.M. like the lights do. You can watch all day and all night if you want to.” Sounds completely ruinous to people’s health and mental well-being, I thought.

“Don’t you think this system will make people antisocial?” asked one of the tour participants.

“Nah,” said Sam. “It’s great. I don’t have to get off the couch to meet my friends. I can just lie here and chat to them via Skype or Facetime.”

“But don’t you prefer to meet your friends face-to-face,” I asked. “Nah,” he said again. “I’m happy to do it from here.” A reflective look crossed his face. “Of course, my girlfriend can come over sometimes, but not every day. I’ve got a life to live, you know. I plan to go to the canteen for meals and I can see my mates then. The meal menus I’ve seen are not bad and I won’t have to do any preparation or cleaning up.”

There was a stunned silence and the man took this as a cue to guide us out of the apartment and back towards the elevators. When the doors swished open on the ground floor, I dashed out and through the revolving glass doors of the entrance. The cold air outside was bracing and settled my churning stomach. The man’s comments and thoughts, combined with the out-sized residential buildings and their surrounds that made me feel weak and ill. My nausea soon passed, and I was ready to re-join the group.

This post was written for Linda G. Hill’s weekly Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt as follows: “Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “social.” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!” You can join in here: https://lindaghill.com/2019/06/14/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-june-15-19/

What Amazon says

In the shadowy area where myth and history collide, an unlikely hero is forced to save the world from an ancient Celtic curse. Dr. Elliot Everett-Jones knows that shadowy area well, having spent most of his life exploring its dimensions as given by a host of unreliable sources and imaginative speculation. Some would say he daydreams over the improbable plots of second-rate Romantic era authors. These fantasies, however, come to life after the discovery of the Cauldron of the Dead.

When the Cauldron produces the evil fireborn, Elliot is forced to confront an army of these mythic undead with nothing but his obscure knowledge and the hope of finding the legendary Lady of the Lake to give him Arthur’s sword. Even more frightening is the idea that he might have to confront his ex-wife, Eleanor.

“The Fireborn” is part joyful romp through history, myth and legend, and part fast paced adventure set in modern England and New York. The entire book, though, revolves around Elliot’s relationships with a large variety of characters. These relationships form the key that may unlock the mystery or lead to utter defeat.

My review

This is a clever and well researched story that superimposes the King Arthur myth on our modern landscape.

Dr Elliot Everett-Jones is the son of a famous archaeologist and his brother, William, has followed in his illustrious footsteps. Elliot was a disappointment to his father as he became a writer of fantasy and historical fiction and was not interested in archaeology to the same extent as his brother. Elliot goes to visit William at his latest dig and discovers that he has made a most unusual discovery of an ancient cauldron. The cauldron has an extraordinary mythical history and is believed to have been created by an ancient king who used it to create an army of invincible super zombies. According to the legend, the zombies, called fireborn, have blue skin and red hair that resembles a flame.

Elliot recognises the cauldron as the one from the myths and, a few days later when it disappears under mysterious circumstances, he predicts the re-emergence of virtually immortal zombies and starts posting warnings on Facebook. When his predictions start coming true, the army comes looking for him. The safety of the world is under threat and Elliot needs to find the modern day Arthur, Merlin and Lancelot if the human race is to be saved from this ancient threat.

I really enjoyed the character of Elliot and sympathized with his difficult childhood as the son that disappointed his father and the demise of his marriage to a woman he still loves. The author did a great job of developing this character and portraying how he develops due to the strange circumstances he faces over the course of the story and becomes physically tougher but more emotionally sensitive and intellectually astute.

There is a wonderful air of old English legend around this tale but it is uplifted and modernised with the inclusion of drugged up henchmen in league with the fireborn, sophisticated technology intermingled with visions and nightmares that become actuality. The author has a vivid imagination and a good knowledge of the Arthurian mythology.

All in a great read.

Purchase The Fireborn

I called David and asked him to pack a bag for Kelly and me for our hospital stay. Not staying with my child was not an option, even if I wanted to leave her, which I didn’t. The Free Zone hospital was hugely understaffed and there were no nurses available to look after her. Keeping an eye on her and attaching the mask to her tiny face every four hours so that the automated nebuliser could administer the adrenaline and steroids she required was my task. I have never felt as useless as I did during that first illness, when my tiny baby lay inside the huge, see-through oxygen tent, labouring to breathe, with an enormous bandage wrapped around the intravenous drip in her hand that fed antibiotics and fluids into her immobile body, and with pads attached to her chest to monitor her oxygen levels.

I was shocked and dismayed that my baby had stopped breathing and had been admitted into hospital, but I was grateful that such a good paediatrician was attending to her. Dr Dream worked at a private clinic in the Work Compound, but she also attended to children in the Free Zone hospital twice a week as part of her compulsory community service. She was a philanthropist and cared about all of her patients, whether their parents were part of the working elite or not.

I didn’t think to ask her questions about Kelly’s illness at the time and didn’t think for one moment that this stay in the hospital would become the normal pattern of my life. No-one in my family had suffered from respiratory problems and I didn’t know that infants that contract bronchiolitis often develop asthma later in their childhood.

Our time in the hospital was uncomfortable for me. One parent was required to stay with the sick child, but no food, drink or sleeping facilities were provided. For three days and nights, I attempted to sleep sitting upright in one of the plastic chairs, with the automated medication co-ordinator waking me every four hours with a long and intrusive beep. I couldn’t afford to use the InstaMax machine in the ward as I wasn’t working and wouldn’t be paid for the days I missed. David brought me protein pills and tap water from our apartment and I had to manage on these. I felt hungry all the time as supplements never satisfied me the way real food did, even if it was a basic meal.

The loneliness was overwhelming as I had no family living close enough to visit us. I had my ipad and iphone, but these did not provide me with much entertainment other than free books which I could download from the internet. I could not afford to purchase expensive data to send or receive messages.

There was a huge television in the ward general area but this ran the never ending selection of reality television programmes that were supplied free of charge to the inhabitants of the Free Zone. World government didn’t broadcast any movies or serials on the free television channels that stimulated or challenged the mind. The unemployable and people in jobs threatened by digitalization were not exposed to anything that could incite resentment or discontent at their lot in life. Every effort was made to provide for our basic needs while maintaining the status quo and avoiding anything that could result in anyone questioning our futures or our becoming jealous of the more fortunate people living in the Work Compounds.

While better than the television, the books that were available to me were also limited. All controversial books had been banned more than fifteen years ago, when paper books became a luxury of the past. Trees were too scarce and valuable a resource to be used for paper of any sort. I had heard that there were vast numbers of books on display in the book museums in the Work Compounds, but even the lucky residents of these areas where not allowed to touch or look at them for fear of damaging the last printed books in the world.

This post was written for Linda G. Hill’s SoCS posts. The prompt this week is a as follows: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “open book, point, write.” Pick up the closest book to you when you sit down to write your post. Close your eyes, open the book, and place your finger on the page. Whatever word or phrase your finger lands on, write about it. Enjoy! I picked books as I was a book fair today and books was on my mind.

You can join in here: https://lindaghill.com/2019/06/07/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-june-8-19/

3 June – form the handwritten notes of Lisa Robinson

I am sitting in a worn office chair in the Free Zone 110 Hospital. Kelly is lying on one of fifteen beds in the long, narrow ward. Her dear, little face is pinched and white against the slightly whiter pillowcase and her soft moans blend in with the coughs, wails and cries of the fourteen other small children in the room.

My choices were limited this morning. I either skipped going for the job interview I had finally managed to wrangle and brought her here, or risked coming back to a dead child. Overnight, Kelly’s temperature had climbed steadily and, despite my lying her on the floor of the bathroom and filling the room with steam from the hot water tap in the shower, her cough had worsened, booming in her chest, and making her frail body shake with effort.

I picked up the thick file lying on the small table next to her bed and ran my eyes swiftly over the mixture of typed and hand written notes.

Name: Kelly Robinson

Age: 10 years old

Diagnosis: Acute bronchitis

Underlying condition: Brittle chronic asthma and a biofilm in her sinuses

Genetic microchip implant: None

Bitterness rose in my throat like bile as I read those last words. No, my beautiful little girl doesn’t qualify for a genetic microchip implant because of her parents’ status as unemployable people who were unable to adjust to the new labour market that came about due to mass-scale digitalisation in the mid 2020’s.

She wouldn’t be lying in this hospital bed in this sterile, white ward, if she had access to the genetic engineering options available to the privileged dwellers of the Work Compounds. The mutation in the gene responsible for her chronic asthma and impaired lung functioning could have been successfully treated through the biotechnology available in the microchip. Lisa didn’t understand all the detail, but she did know that the use of biotechnology could help to remove the negative consequences of the mutated gene that was causing her daughter’s illness.

Kelly had been such a strong and healthy girl when she was born. At that time, David and I were both employed and, although David’s job was under threat from the proposed impending implementation by the world government of the fully-fledged world-wide cyber-physical system, known as Bella, it had not as yet happened. I also had a job and was hoping to upskill from a bookkeeper to a role in financial data analytics. All pink and cute, Kelly breastfed well and the obstetrician had allowed us to be discharged a day early from the hospital because she was doing so well.

At three weeks old, she stopped breathing for the first time. Checking on her sleeping in her pram, I noticed that her lips had gone blue. Her chest was not rising and falling as it should have been. I grabbed the baby out of the pram and she immediately started crying, loudly and lustily. Wrapping her up warmly, I ran out of the house and used took the electric bus to the hospital. The journey was one of the most frustrating ones I have ever experienced. The electric bus moved slowly along its rails and seemed to stop at each and every stop. On arrival at the hospital, we had to wait in a crowded and noisy room full of sick and snotty children for the paediatrician to see us. The doctor was kindly, although the dark pockets of puffy flesh under her tired eyes told me of her exhaustion. She sent me to the X-ray department to have a sonar and x-rays of Kelly’s lungs and chest. It was 6 PM by the time we got back to overflowing patients waiting room and 7 PM by the time we saw her again. She examined the X-rays and sonars and read the various reports and then she diagnosed Kelly with bronchiolitis. Bronchiolitis is a virus that affects the respiratory tract. The infection causes inflammation of the tiny airways, called the bronchioles, which lead to the lungs.  The swollen airways fill up with mucus which makes breathing difficult. Kelly, and I as the primary caregiver, were admitted into hospital for treatment. It was a terrible time for us both. The doctor mentioned the possibility that nanotechnology might need to be used to treat her, if her condition proved to be on-going and potentially of a genetic nature. My heart pounded and my hands shook when she told me the astronomical cost of treatments involving genetic engineering. I prayed that we wouldn’t need this treatment.

This post was written for Sue Vincent’s weekly write photo challenge: https://scvincent.com/2019/06/06/thursday-photo-prompt-choices-writephoto/

What Amazon says

“I’ve had a most amazing time….”

So begins the Time Traveller’s astonishing firsthand account of his journey 800,000 years beyond his own era—and the story that launched H.G. Wells’s successful career and earned him his reputation as the father of science fiction. With a speculative leap that still fires the imagination, Wells sends his brave explorer to face a future burdened with our greatest hopes…and our darkest fears. A pull of the Time Machine’s lever propels him to the age of a slowly dying Earth.  There he discovers two bizarre races—the ethereal Eloi and the subterranean Morlocks—who not only symbolize the duality of human nature, but offer a terrifying portrait of the men of tomorrow as well.  Published in 1895, this masterpiece of invention captivated readers on the threshold of a new century. Thanks to Wells’s expert storytelling and provocative insight, The Time Machine will continue to enthrall readers for generations to come.

My review

The Time Machine, even on the face of it, is an extraordinary story, particularly if you consider the time when it was written. The book is narrated by a third party who tells of the Time Travelers wonderful invention of a machine that can travel through time and of his experiences, travelling into the future.

The books starts with the Time Traveler explaining his theories of time travel to friends and others whom he has invited to a dinner party. He demonstrates his theories using a miniature time machine that he has built and tells them that he is nearly finished building a full sized one. The attendees of the dinner are most circumspect although they recognise the Time Travelers superior intelligence. His audience come across as slightly suspicious of the Time Traveler and it seems they think he is far to clever for his own, or anyone else’s, good and that he might be tricking them. The narrator reveals that he has pranked his friends in the past.

He is quite genuine though and does manage to travel far into the distant future on his machine. He discovers a world that appears to be on the decline, that is inhabited by beautiful, almost doll-like people, who demonstrate the behavior and intelligence of children. The Time Traveler, who is an intellectual snob, finds this very difficult to understand and speculates at length about why the intelligence and innovation of mankind has eroded so significantly. He initially comes to believe it is because the Eloi have evolved over time to have a perfect life, completely free of any sort of threats. The climate is lovely and temperate, there is plenty of delicious fruit to feed them and, as a result, they do not need to develop their brains in order to deal with adversity and to improve their chances of survival.

Soon after the Time Travelers arrival in this future world, his time machine is removed and hidden. He quickly works out where it must be stowed but he can’t understand the circumstances around the theft. As time passes, he soon realises that everything is not quite as it seems in this paradise. There is a threat and it is more horrible than the Time Traveler could have ever believed.

I already knew the basic story of The Time Machine before I re-read this book recently. The story is fascinating but I was most intrigued by H.G. Wells interesting analysis of human intelligence, how it develops and how it could decline. He also makes acute and accurate observation about societies and how the interaction between the employers and the employees could play out over time. There are some conveniences in the book which a reader quickly identifies, but for me, they did not detract from my delight and interest in this great story.

Purchase The Time Machine