Into the Fourth Universe

by Robert Wingfield

“Môžete absolútny debil.”

  “Sorry. Can we try that again?”

  “Je to riziko, tak skoro po poslednom reštarte. Zabijem ťa, ak to nefunguje!”

  “I haven’t a clue what you’re saying. Can you nod if you’re ready for another reset.”

  Kara sighed. “Áno, dostať sa s ním.”

  “Fine; I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” He re-keyed the process. Hidden in one of the corners of the screen under a small piece of biscuit was the language option. Why it had defaulted to anything other than English he could not fathom, “Bloody programmers,” he muttered, “must be the same tossers who programmed the predictive text on my phone. Try again.”

  He reset the language and keyed another restart. Sparks shot through Kara’s head again. She convulsed as the process concluded, and then slipped slowly off the chair. “Kara, are you okay?” He shook her. There was no reaction, simply a faint smell of overheated electronic components. “Oh shit, I’ve blown her up.” He scratched his head. “I can’t go through that again. Perhaps the regeneration chamber will do the job.”

  He carried the inert body into the bedroom, stripped her and loaded her in the compartment, along with a small component usefully labelled ‘cliché suppressor, unsuitable for babies, children or Trekkies’.

  “Fingers crossed,” he muttered to himself, “let’s hope this works.” He closed his eyes and pressed the reset button. The pink glow bathed the android. There was no change, no movement, but the body appeared to slowly improve, the scorch marks disappearing, and the suppressor sparking occasionally. The light inside went off and a ‘ping’ sounded. He opened the door, and took hold of her arms to pull her out. The eyes flickered open. Allan winced as her stare drilled into him.

  “So, you louse, you thought you’d get away with what you have been doing to us.”

  He reeled backwards and then fell on to his face. “Forgive me, divine majesty.”

  “You have been taking heinous liberties with our sacred person.”

  “Weakness of the flesh, oh inviolate one, weakness of the flesh only.”

  “Keeper of the Holy Form indeed.”

  “Was only a title, your magnificence. I didn’t mean any harm.”

  “Give us one good reason why we shouldn’t terminate your puss-filled existence.”

  “I found you, saved your life, and ran a several level-three diagnostic reboots to bring you back to your senses, ma’am.”

  “Good point.” Kara’s face split into a smile. She climbed out of the unit and stretched, her lithe and perfectly muscled body glistening in the soft lights of the bedroom. “Had you going there, didn’t I? I feel completely back to normal now. Thank Phoist that suppressor’s fixed. Two-Dan must have been right with that. He always knew how to properly turn me on.”

  “You mean you aren’t going to kill me?”

  “I didn’t say that, but you can stop grovelling for the moment. I have to set the controls for the Heart of the Rift.”

  “Oh bugger, you aren’t talking in music lyrics are you now? Has something else gone wrong?”

  “Brain Salad Surgery,” she replied.

  * * *

  In four universes, four sets of people waited. Nothing happened. Errorcode held his hands open. “I thought it would do something to close the rift. What was it that rubbish about the Stars being the keys to everything?”

  “It should have worked.” Rannie sat down on a passing wall. “I knew it would work. That was why I had to get back to this universe, my own. Only the four stars together would be sufficient.”

  “Something's not right then,” said Tom.

  “Thank you for the insight, sir. I think we have already gathered that fact. One of our contacts must have failed us, if what you say is right, Rannie.” Errorcode shook his head.

  “I’ll bet it’s Kara; we can trust all the others,” said Tom. “My guess is that stupid gynoid’s gone even more insane, and is after conquering the whole lot all over again.”

  The others looked thoughtfully at Tom, mulling the implications.

  “Don’t worry, it’s up to me to go and sort her out.” Tom walked slowly back towards the rift, but the heat held him back before he got anywhere near. “It’s no good. Without the Star to protect me, I can’t even get near.”

  “We’re stuffed then,” said Rannie. “Job not done, time wasted, all stuck, we’re going to die, four universes.” She stared defiantly at the others. “And don’t anyone dare to say, ‘I hate it when that happens’.”

  “Excuse me, but what’s that up there?” Tom pointed at a small spec of fire in the sky, getting slowly larger.”

  “Oh shit.” Errorcode’s jaw was working up and down.

  “What?”

  “The nuclear deterrent. They must have finally been able to get the Oven open and launch the missiles. I forgot to tell them to abort, it was so long ago.”

  “Get them on the phone and tell them now.” Rannie hopped up and shook the man by his shoulders. “If those missiles strike, we won’t even get the meagre time remaining to us.”

  “I’ll try.” He dialled a number.

  “Modification Administration.” The face of a reliable, steady gentleman appeared on the j-Slab screen.

  “Hi, it’s Montague Errorcode here, and I have the chief executive with me…”

  “Hi,” Tom waved.

  “Hello, sir. What can we do for you?”

  “That missile strike I ordered…”

  “Yes, sir, we were able to get it launched, right before the modification window expired. We didn’t let you down.”

  “No, you didn’t, but I need you to abort it.”

  “Yes, sir. What’s the reason for stopping the missiles; I have to fill in the form for audit purposes, you understand.”

  “Of course; the reason is that we don’t need the strike anymore.”

  “I’m not sure I’ve got that on my list, sir.”

  “List?”

  “We have a number of valid reasons for aborting a strike, sir. Other than that, it’s considered to have failed and there will be a full enquiry. Has the modification failed, sir?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Then we can’t abort for that reason.”

  “What other reasons have we got?”

  “Hurry up,” said Tom. “The missiles are coming.”

  “Reasons, sir?” The administrator tapped his keyboard. “You could have justified a back-out because of non-availability of personnel. No, we can’t use that because we have four times a full complement since the trainees from Nishant turned up.”

  “What else?”

  “Back-out because someone in a third-party company didn’t follow due process, but then we don’t normally find out about those until it’s too late, if they admit anything at all.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Back-out because the modification window expired before we could get the passwords using the ‘smash oven’ process.”

  “Still no good. Please, for Phoist’s sake press the abort button or we’ll all be blown to pieces; if you let that happen, how are you going to explain at your next modification meeting?”

  “I see what you mean, sir. I’ll get the passwords right away. I’ll go on ‘mute’.” There was a pause and then the man reopened the link. “I’ve got my half of the password, sir.”

  “Good. Now where’s the other half?”

  “I’m contacting the man from Nishant… oh.”

  “What?”

  “It appears that he’s gone to lunch, sir.”

  “Bugger.”

  “I’m afraid so, sir.”

  * * *

  Two nuclear missiles plunged directly into the rift, and disappeared.

  “At least they were accurate,” muttered Errorcode as gouts of toxic flame issued from the centre of the crater. “We got our money’s worth.”

  * * *

  Back in the First Unive
rse, Caryl was still standing uncertainly in the plasma flow. She tried to push her way out but the interface between her universe and the Rift seemed to be changing. It held her back. She saw gouts of flame leaping towards her. The temperature in the plasma rose. She leaned backwards, but the interface was solid now. “Fuck me that’s hot!” Her hair was singeing and her skin burning. “Oh shit! Let me out of here for Phoist’s sake.” She charged into the barrier between her and the membrane of the plasma column. It yielded slightly as she forced her body away from the flames, and then a bit more; she was almost through. The film bulged with a Caryl shaped deformity and then clicked shut. The force of the closure catapulted her promptly back into the flames.

  * * *

  In the Fourth Universe Tom cowered with his hands over his head. There was dead silence. He felt a touch on his arm. He looked up. Standing over him was the charred form of a girl. She collapsed into his arms. Already there were paramedics turning up in ambulances; at least Modification Administration had thought to call in the rescue services. He carried her to the nearest vehicle. “Hospital, and quickly,” he demanded unnecessarily of the crew. On the journey, he sat with her, holding her hand while they bathed her body with cooling ointments, and headed their bumpy way to the only clinic on the Island.

  * * *

  “Is that it then?” Tom, Rannie and Errorcode were relaxing on his balcony, sipping his designer drink.

  “I think so,” said Rannie. “The missiles must have tipped the balance and over-ridden any damage. The rift is closed, everyone is back where they should be, and Modification Administration have been disbanded.”

  “That should save us some more money,” said Errorcode. “Can’t we have at least one executive jet back with the savings we’ve made, please?”

  “No, we have a company to rescue. There’s still much to do. Yes, Vac? Come in, I know you’re out there.”

  “I didn’t like to intrude, Sah.”

  “Of course not. What do you want?”

  “Visitor, Sah. Shall I show her in?”

  “Please do. And leave the clothes on her, this time.”

  Caryl came shyly on to the balcony. “Hi.” Tom leapt to his feet and hugged her in his arms. “Ow!” She pulled away. “Still sore, but they tell me the skin should heal. The plasma must have protected me when I was thrown through the Rift, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

  “Good news.”

  “And then we have some catching up to do.” She kissed him lingeringly on the lips. “Soul mates?”

  “Soul mates; I knew that all along, but neither of us really belong here.”

  “Here we have to stay now. It’s not that bad is it?”

  “Not that bad at all. Actually, talking about bad, what are we going to do about Mr Nishi?”

  “Nothing required, Sah. We kidnapped his family.”

  “Oh Vac!”

  “After a few therapeutic beatings, he says he is prepared to drop all charges, Sah.”

  “Good.”

  “As long as we keep his family, Sah.”

  “I’ll leave that to you then. One thing does puzzle me though.” Tom looked at Rannie. She raised her glass to him. “No, I mean, which of those universes is the one that’s really mine? Any ideas? Is it the Heaven Universe of Caryl’s and the one Suzanne and I died in, or the Earth of Hawk and Welson and the Magus, or the Hell of Kara, and Allan too, if she hasn’t killed him, or this one, the Chaos Universe?”

  “Chaos?” Errorcode raised his eyebrows. “Is that what you think it is?”

  “Where else can you get the total madness of overblown bureaucracy, ridiculous and pointless laws, PCI compliance, Modification Administration, the NSA, Virtualbend Ovens, totally pointless outsourcing, software you buy and then have to make up a use for it, cover-ups of cockups, layers of complexity only a team of complete morons could think up, planks of directors who don’t stand up to their chairmen, undeserved and massive bonuses, and people like Ferdinand Badloser getting away with just about everything, to name but a few? Oh, and Vac’s tribe with their obsession with the military and a ‘no baby’ policy...”

  “Yes, Sah.”

  “We need to have a talk about that.”

  “I will look forward to it, Sah.”

  “Yes, you do seem to have a point.” Errorcode agreed. “Perhaps we need some logic somewhere. I’ll form a department of common sense.”

  “Monty!”

  “Sorry, sir, getting too enthusiastic, sir.”

  “Another thing that has been puzzling me, though.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “What does SCT actually do?”

  “Do, sir?”

  “Yes, do, you know like what do we make, or sell, or what service do we provide?”

  Errorcode shook his head. “I’ve never really thought about it, sir. I only run the operations.”

  “I see.” Tom leaned back in his chair. “So you have no idea at all?”

  “Sorry, sir.”

  “So effectively we run processes and money simply arrives?”

  “I didn’t know you were an accountant, sir.”

  “Looks like I’ll have to be. Never mind, something else to do tomorrow.” Tom put his feet on the coffee table and stared suspiciously at Rannie. “So go on then, which of the four universes do I really belong in?” “You do know, don’t you?”

  Rannie smiled. “I do, but do you want to?”

  “I do, really.”

  “None of them.” She grinned.

  “What?”

  “You heard.”

  “Then where..?”

  “I’ll leave that to your imagination.”

  “Oh bugger!”

  Postlogue – Third Universe

  A

  note for you, dear reader: This is the third book in the Dan Saga, but in case you haven’t read the previous, here is an intercepted bulletin from an eminent tabloid…

  From Antonia Sternlight, roving reporter, hack and flame-haired beauty, to The Daily Outrage, Dubstar Prime:

  My darling editor, please find attached an illegally intercepted transcript of a communication from the ‘Enemy of the Universe’ to some collaborator of his—nothing to do with me by the way; it just fell into my in-tray. You ain’t seen this, right?

  And finally a note of explanation, in case you missed the plot and like the author don’t have a clue what’s been going on so far.

  From The Magus

  EZBMANAIR Lounge

  Pretstar Catering

  Kepler 69c Spaceport

  Gondwanaday 17th of Decibel (the noisy month)

  To Rannie Dearheat

  c/o Magus Psychic Investigations ULC

  Dunsleuthin

  Glenforbis W1 2PI

  Via Universal Mail

  Hi babe. The parties are over and last investigation went swimmingly. It was the butler’s friend’s dead ancestor who did it, after all—we suspected that right from the first, didn’t we? Anyway, hope you are in good health and the business is booming, although with that last investigation and the money we got from the insurance company, we can afford to take only the jobs we fancy for a while (remember that; don’t start getting me any difficult or dangerous inquiries, will you). Anyway, in your last u-mail, you were asking me to explain what on Glenforbis all that fuss with the Earthman, Tom was about. Quite an involved story I’m afraid, but I’ve got the time to update you; I’ve had to be here three days early to be sure of getting a seat on this budget flight back home, so I’ll have a go to explain.

  Tom, or ‘Two-Dan’ as he is occasionally known for reasons too obscure to revisit, has been having a bit of trouble with a universe or two. He discovered that in his particular reality, there are three universes all occupying the same space, but out of phase by an unspecified amount (I think it must be 120 degrees, but that’s perhaps a bit warm). The upshot was simply that there were originally three Toms, one living in each universe.
Normally, the entities keep themselves separate by paralleling events, such that for example, if a body in one dies, those in the other two die at the same time—nice and neat. Unfortunately for Tom, although he got killed in one universe, the other two were a little tardy in following suit. The problem was caused by the fact that his alter-ego in Universe 3 refused to lie down and take it. The Second Universe therefore had no suitable excuse for writing off its own Tom (ours?), so there was an imbalance, which allowed, nay, insisted, that our Tom get his act together, and go off to remove himself in U3. It didn’t mention that by doing this, his existence in U2 would also have to end.

  Because of the inconsistency, weaknesses opened up between the universes, which became portals in certain locations. Tom dropped through one of these into our universe, following the girl, Suzanne, who was already travelling between them because of the difference in the price of cosmetics. She was able to do that because her U3 persona had been neutralised by the evil Tom in U3 to lure Tom One to his death. There was of course an inevitable confrontation between the Toms. Against the odds, ours managed to survive. Now, the three universes can never be in equilibrium until the demise of the last Tom, so that’s where the android, Kara-Tay, comes in. The mad U3 Tom had created her to track down and neutralise his other selves. Because there was only one of her across all universes, she was capable of trans-universal and the associated time travel. In fact I suspect she may have had something to do with the untimely death of the first Tom, but we can’t prove that. Unfortunately (or fortunately for the Tom you know) the U3 evil Tom made a mistake. He’d been watching a batch of science-fiction films filched from 20th century Earth, and realised that he had to install a fail-safe mechanism into his android to stop her from killing him. He made her his idea of the perfect woman, possibly for his own enjoyment, but also as bait for his other selves, who he knew would find her irresistible. There he made his main mistake; he forgot to tell Kara that there were actually three Toms. She got confused, and the safety limiter latched on to the wrong one, which caused her to side with our Tom against the evil one, and tipped the balance at the confrontation.