Kenneth "Kit" Carson was one of the best, if not the best, time scouts in the business. But he has collected more than a few scars, both physical and mental, while poking around back in time and trying not to draw the attention of the natives, not always successfully. (There was that time that the Spanish Inquisition entertained him in one of their dungeons because he had carelessly mispronounced a word . . . .)
Nowadays Kit runs a small hotel at Time Terminal 86, and has sworn off gallivanting back through the centuries. He just wants to be a hotelier renting rooms to tourists on their way to see the Roman Circus Maximus or Victorian London firsthand. He might take an occasional consulting fee to keep 'his hand in, but he plans to stay put in one time from now on. Until a certain red-headed girl flounces out of his life through an illicit gate that may collapse and leave her lost eternally in the corridors of time . . . .
Kenneth "Kit" Carson was one of the best, if not the best, time scouts in the business. But he has collected more than a few scars, both physical and mental, while poking around back in time and trying not to draw the attention of the natives, not always successfully. (There was that time that the Spanish Inquisition entertained him in one of their dungeons because he had carelessly mispronounced a word . . . .)
Nowadays Kit runs a small hotel at Time Terminal 86, and has sworn off gallivanting back through the centuries. He just wants to be a hotelier renting rooms to tourists on their way to see the Roman Circus Maximus or Victorian London firsthand. He might take an occasional consulting fee to keep 'his hand in, but he plans to stay put in one time from now on. Until a certain red-headed girl flounces out of his life through an illicit gate that may collapse and leave her lost eternally in the corridors of time . . . .
Kenneth "Kit" Carson was one of the best, if not the best, time scouts in the business. But he has collected more than a few scars, both physical and mental, while poking around back in time and trying not to draw the attention of the natives, not always successfully. (There was that time that the Spanish Inquisition entertained him in one of their dungeons because he had carelessly mispronounced a word . . . .)
Nowadays Kit runs a small hotel at Time Terminal 86, and has sworn off gallivanting back through the centuries. He just wants to be a hotelier renting rooms to tourists on their way to see the Roman Circus Maximus or Victorian London firsthand. He might take an occasional consulting fee to keep 'his hand in, but he plans to stay put in one time from now on. Until a certain red-headed girl flounces out of his life through an illicit gate that may collapse and leave her lost eternally in the corridors of time . . . .
