Survival Kit

It seems to me that people are far too casual about one of the greatest personal threats, that of suddenly being translated into another world, era, or alternate history. This happens all the time. You walk around the horses in a little town near Berlin, in 1809, and you disappear (with a popping sound). You get hit by lightning, and suddenly you find yourself in Ostrogothic Italy or medieval Iceland. Some bruiser hits you on the head with a crowbar, and you wake up in Arthur’s England. While investigating reports of strange gases in an abandoned coal mine in Pennsylvania, you fall into a kind of suspended animation for 492 years, waking to find America under the iron heel of the Air Lords of Han. While chasing down an armed perp (again in Pennsylvania), you’re accidentally swept up into someone’s sideways-in-time vehicle and land in a Keystone State full of pagan Aryans in desperate need of a new source of gunpowder.

It is a fun read. :)