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Excerpt:

“I’ve taken it a step further than simply viewing moments in time. Not only can my machine show images in time, but it can literally ‘capture’ a frame and materialize a figure contained in it in the flesh. Right here in this booth.”

“Oh, I get it. Like in Star Trek. ‘Beam me up, Scottie’.” Taylor laughed. “It’s amazing, Lila.”

“Yes, just like Star Trek.” Lila’s voice dripped sarcasm.

On the screen, the marauding Vikings anchored ship and rowed small skiffs toward land. Lila fast-forwarded with a click of the mouse, making the boats race across the water. She slowed the scene again, and the men climbed out of the boats to splash through the shallows toward the beach.

The sailors were tall and muscular, dressed in hide shirts and leggings, their faces almost hidden behind full beards and moustaches. Long, blond hair flowed from beneath their helmets. The Norse warriors brandished swords, pikes and other assorted pointy things as they charged onto the pebbled shore.

Waiting to meet the assault was a much smaller group of men, dressed in fur and leather hides. Remembering a little history, Chrissy guessed they were northern European or Briton villagers facing the marauders. The obvious leader of the defending army was taller and bulkier than his men. His shoulders and chest strained his deer-hide jerkin. Black hair was caught back in a leather thong at the nape of his neck. White teeth flashed against tan skin as he shouted encouragement to the other men, most of whom seemed on the verge of breaking and running before the attacking Vikings. The leader held his sword high and urged his men forward.

Although the moving picture was silent, Chrissy could imagine the man’s cries to defend the village and the women and children. She felt sorry for the young leader, in charge of a timid group of fishermen with lame-looking weapons, facing a pack of huge, fierce Norsemen.

The two sides clashed. The fishing folk were definitely outmatched by the invaders. Chrissy cringed as limbs flew and blood spurted.

“Nasty,” Taylor murmured. “But, man, that guy’s kind of hot.” She pointed to one of the Norsemen with flowing gold locks and bared teeth.

Lila frowned and froze the scene. “Typical, Taylor , I’m talking about assembling a think tank to solve the world’s problems and you’re ogling the men.”

“No harm in looking.” She shrugged, tossing back her curly, blonde hair.

Chrissy stared at the frozen image of the battle. It was crystal clear down to the details of sunlight glinting off the sharp edges of weapons and blood welling from an open wound. Despite her disbelief, she was intrigued at the prospect of a time-traveling think tank. “How would you communicate with them? Da Vinci didn’t speak English, and I’m sure if you talked to one of these guys,” she nodded at the screen, “you’d get some incomprehensible dead language.”

“Ah.” Lila went to her work table and came back with an ear-piece much like a hearing aid. “I’ve also invented this translating device. It works by reading thought patterns and deciphering them into words the listener understands, rather than translating one language into another. Cool, huh?” Lila beamed, pleased with her own cleverness.

Chrissy stared, feeling terribly guilty she hadn’t even noticed her friend was cracking up. Lila spent days holed up here alone on the third floor of the house in her attic workshop. Her friends had always thought of her as an innovative genius with her many, ongoing experiments and inventions, but clearly her train had derailed.

Chrissy looked from her insane friend’s exultant face to the frozen picture on the screen. The Viking leader and the head defender of the soil were engaged in combat, swords poised ready to thrust. Their mouths were open, shouting. Blood and sweat streaked their bearded faces. The charge of testosterone in the air was almost palpable, and she was embarrassed to feel her crotch tighten simply from staring at the image of the two primitive warriors.

“Well, it’s an amazing idea. I can see you’ve worked hard on it.”

“So, exactly how would you do it?” Taylor traced a finger over the Viking seaman’s bulging biceps. “I mean, actually pick one and bring him to life?”

“It’s like computer animation,” Lila explained. “You choose the figure you want to work with, then, instead of manipulating the image as you would in movie making, you press this button and bring him to this moment in time. Your Star Trek analogy actually isn’t that far off the mark. Basically we’re deconstructing molecules and reassembling them here.”

“Very cool.” Taylor nodded as if it made perfect sense.

Lila did a point and click thing with her mouse and soon the dark-haired barbarian was outlined in red. “See? I’ve ‘cut him out of the picture’, so to speak. He’s the target now.”

Chrissy decided it was time to break the spell. The only way she was going to reach Lila’s addled brain was to demonstrate that the machine didn’t work. “Then you’d press this button?” She reached out and pushed a black button on the left side of the control panel.

“No! Chrissy, don’t!” Lila yelled, grabbing at her wrist.

There was a high-pitched, whining sound and the air shimmered then became as opaque as a dark cloud. Chrissy actually felt a change in the density of space around them, a thickening that made the air almost palpable. Suddenly an extra body crowded into the booth with the three women. Chrissy was pressed up against solid muscle, hot, sweaty skin and rank, half-cured animal hides.

The big, bearded man was still roaring his battle cry. Momentum brought his arm down with a mighty slice of his sword, right past Taylor ’s face. The sword cleaved the monitor screen in two, sending jagged glass shards and electric sparks flying.

All of the women screamed and scrambled to get away. The barbarian bellowed and drew his sword out of the wreckage of the monitor.

As she stumbled from the booth, fighting to keep her balance and run away at the same time, Chrissy caught a glimpse of the man’s eyes.

They were wide and confused and they zeroed in on her. He lunged and grabbed her wrist, holding her fast in his powerful grip while yelling something in a language that sounded like pebbles being ground in a cement mixer.

Chrissy screamed at the top of her lungs, a piercing, fire engine wail.

The man dropped her wrist immediately.

She fled across the room.

The barbarian raised his sword, knocking the control panel and sending it crashing onto the floor. He backed out of the booth, holding the sword up in front of him and turning in a slow circle, assessing the room around him.

Shrieking, Taylor ran out the door and clattered down the stairs.

Lila froze near the open door, holding her hands up in a surrendering posture.

Chrissy sidled over to stand shoulder to shoulder with her. It was imperative they didn’t let this guy out of the room. She pictured the barbarian hacking his way through the city, maiming pedestrians and stabbing shopkeepers, probably getting run over by a car or shot by the police. They must contain and calm him then send him back where he came from.