by Geoff Wolak
In the coal bunker, again
With the bright portal light gone, the fake Jimmy faced the guards, and took a step towards the stairs. Mickey pulled out his pistol and levelled it at the replacement Jimmy. ‘Not so fast, numb nuts.’
An hour earlier, Jimmy had grabbed Mickey, Jimmy now not looking quite so dark-skinned.
‘Boss, you … you’re in bed,’ Mickey puzzled.
‘The other me is in bed.’
‘Other you? And what happened to your face, boss?’
‘A portal is about to open in the boiler room, a fake me appearing and taking my place. So, listen carefully.’
‘What are you doing?’ the fake Jimmy demanded, just as he registered heavy footsteps.
Jimmy appeared, a senior portal scientist with him. ‘Hello again. It’s … been a while.’
‘You!’
‘Yes, me. Question is, who are you … exactly?’
The fake Jimmy reached into his pocket. Nothing happened.
‘Your device is jammed,’ Jimmy said. ‘Try it again.’
The fake Jimmy took out the device, glanced at the gun that Mickey was holding on him, and pressed again. A flash lit the dark room, but no portal opened.
Jimmy faced the scientist, the man digging out a device from under a layer of coal. ‘Got their frequency?’
‘Yes, got it,’ the man enthused after studying readouts.
Jimmy took a step towards his alter-ego. ‘I don’t suppose you’d like to come over to our side, and tell us everything?’
The fake Jimmy appeared suddenly saddened. He pressed hard on the device in his hand, suddenly jerking violently before crashing to the floor.
The scientist checked for a pulse. ‘Dead. Probably a neurotoxin implanted at the base of the spine.’ He grabbed the device, but the device started to smell, then to melt. ‘Acid! Don’t touch it.’ The man threw it into the furnace.
‘Very James Bond,’ Jimmy quipped. ‘How come we don’t have great toys like that, huh?’ He sighed loudly. ‘OK, guys, use lasers to cut him up, and then put him in the furnace, no trace left.’ Jimmy faced the scientist. ‘Make sure that only a select few ever know their frequency, and now start scanning for it and jamming it, across all the worlds. But, we have a little time on our side. Quite some time, in fact.’
Jimmy stepped into his bedroom, and closed the door, Helen sat waiting expectantly. ‘Hello again,’ Jimmy said with a smile.
‘Did you … change your clothes? And what happened to your face?’
‘It’s a long story, but … a portal opened in the boiler room and … I’ve been gone two years.’
‘Two years!’
Jimmy started to undress. ‘Tomorrow, young lady, we’ll again take a walk, have a pub lunch, and mess about with a boat, because I missed you. Now, get your nightdress off, wife, it’s been two years.’
Back on my world, at my house in Trophy, I sat and read reports with curiosity at first, then surprise, then astonishment. What the hell had Jimmy asked Baldy to do? Helen and Susan puzzled the project as well. I then found a delegation from Trophy Aerospace arriving, an unhappy delegation. Arms were folded, smiles turned upside down.
‘We should be involved!’ they complained. Loudly.
In previous years, Trophy Aerospace had designed and operated a high-altitude craft that could launch satellites. It sat on the back of our 747 look-a-like, and that 747 would be typically launched using catapult and rocket assistance. At altitude, the 747 mule released a shuttle-like craft that was very light and durable, which then utilised rocket power to reach a desirably high altitude. Once at altitude, the payload would detach, and would be boosted further into space. Our satellites were composites, and did not weigh much, so it was a working procedure that was economical, our rocket fuel far more efficient than that utilised in the generations of previous liquid boosters.
I explained to my visitors what I knew about only Baldy being in on the deal, but suggested that the lads could offer to help. A young lad then stepped forwards.
‘I could put a portal-exit in space.’
Everyone stopped and stared at him, as if he had just farted loudly in polite company, each man just as surprised as I was.
‘You … wanna explain that?’ I nudged.
‘I think we could do something that they’re over-looking, and beat them all to it.’
‘That … would piss off a few people, so … so I’m liking where this is going. Go on.’
‘We launch a powerful transmitter towards the Moon, but not on this world obviously. Where it goes and how far wouldn’t matter. It sends a signal to a portal on the ground, underground, and in a vacuum of course – or it would suck-out all of the Earth’s atmosphere.’
‘Which … would not make us popular,’ I noted.
The lad continued, ‘And we open a portal locked onto that signal, adjusting for distance – which they’re already theorising about. The portal targeting would be way off, but anywhere in space would be good, somewhere outside the gravity well. We then put a staged rocket into the underground facility, create a vacuum, open the doors and send it through. It would need minimal fuel to reach the Moon. And if a rail-gun was used, it would reach the Moon quickly.’
I eased back and faced the men of the delegation.
‘It … might just work,’ one said. ‘The position of the opening would be impossible to predict, but so long as it was out in space somewhere it wouldn’t matter. Ninety percent of the fuel is used up during launch, breaking Earth’s gravity.’
‘Guys, keep this idea secret, but you have a go. As well as a very large budget. Go dig a deep hole somewhere and – hopefully – when they get to the Moon, they’ll find a Trophy Aerospace base of operation, the kettle on ready.’
A happy bunch of nerds headed off, but the ramifications of this would not reveal themselves for a while. The world was about to take a giant leap forwards.
The smell of pig shit at night
Jimmy had taken ten days to catch up with his wife, a short holiday taken, a romantic break enjoyed. When he arrived in Canada he seemed a little distant.
‘All … OK?’ I asked as we grabbed seats in my conservatory.
‘I … was approached by another version of me - a portal opened into the house in England – a portal that failed to set-off any detectors.’
‘Failed … to set them off?’
‘Yes, new and advanced technology. Seethan … technology.’
‘Seethan?’ I gasped.
‘Yes, they … will advance with our help, but then get difficult.’
‘Then … we shouldn’t help them advance.’
‘Too late for that, or not, it’s all temporal. But you’re overlooking Selemba,’ Jimmy pointed out.
‘The chain!’
‘Yes, and I know – at least I think I know, why someone sent it.’
‘Someone I’d liked to thump!’
‘No, you wouldn’t. That person is a … very brave and selfless person.’
‘Who!’ I demanded.
‘I can’t say, not yet. I have to … walk the path in front of me, and for many years. I … may be gone a while.’
‘Does your wife know?’ I delicately posed.
He nodded. ‘Yes, she knows. And … when the portal opened I was replaced for a while by a version of me working for the Seethans.’
‘A version of you … working for them. Never!’
‘I guess he was altered in some way. Anyway, I went to London, 1982, and spent two years there. Oh, recruited Big Paul. Again.’
‘And … my other self, over there?’
He gave me a look. ‘Accidentally got a girl pregnant when you were sixteen, went to work in her father’s business. No stock broking.’
‘But, maybe a chance at a peaceful life,’ I said, sighing.
‘That’s why I left him alone.’
‘If the Seethans sent a spy, won’t they miss him?’
‘Not for a while; probably not for seventy ye
ars or so. And by then Baldy’s project will be complete.’
I smiled. ‘I think some bright young people around here will beat him to the Moon.’
Jimmy puzzled that. ‘They will?’
‘Our smart guys reckon they can open a portal in space, stuff a rocket through.’
‘That … would be … brilliant. And, possibly, the final piece of the puzzle.’
‘What puzzle?’ I asked.
‘I can’t say, it’s a puzzle.’
The next day we collected Pleb, our new ambassador now dressed like us, and the group stepped through to the Seethan world at night, night their end. The soldiers made camp and checked their kit, Pleb showing them a good place to hide out. But Jimmy had taken along a dozen Kenyan Rifles, and what a dozen. They were all taller than Jimmy, and wider, a fearsome bunch that were all muscle and testosterone. The ex-Marines from Baldy’s world made camp, perimeters set, as Pleb led Jimmy towards the nearest town.
The visiting party walked through the night, chatting, flanked by the Rifles, Pleb very honoured with his new position. Since I didn’t want him too bothered with farm animals on his world, I suggested that after a year’s good service he could have a farm on our world, stuffed full of pigs and chickens. It was a done deal.
Pleb had put on weight after being injected, and the Manson drug had affected him as much as any human. Seeing the excess weight, the scientists had given Pleb a treadmill and some free weights, illustrating their use. He was then given an exercise regime by portal guards, and became both fitter and stronger. Stepping back to his world, he weighed more than twice what he had as an unwilling abductee. Walking alongside Jimmy, Jimmy was now trying to explain that many weeks had passed on our world, but not here. And, if we got the frequency wrong, another Pleb would be wandering around this part of Canada as normal - with his thumb up his backside and his brain in neutral, smelling of pig shit.
They found the town in question before dawn, and stood waiting in the trees for first light. Seeing people up and about, Jimmy led the team down. The first Seethan to see the group just stopped and stared, and puzzled them, Pleb offering a greeting. The second group of Seethan pedestrians were shocked, uttering “Great Maker”. Pleb reassured them as the group passed, heading towards the local prefect’s office. Pleb said he knew the way, but stopped to ask directions. Three times.
At the main cross-roads, Jimmy recognised the place from his previous travels through this part of Canada, the diners and business-fronts typically Canadian. All of the Seethans in view stopped and stared. Police officers started to follow. At the prefect’s office, Pleb led Jimmy inside, the Seethan’s in the outer office quite stunned by a live human, a Great Maker and ancestor. The prefect stepped out, shocked rigid.
‘Prefect, this is ancestor Jimmy Silo,’ Pleb explained in the Seethan tongue. ‘He wishes to send word to the capital that people of his world will visit, and they ask permission to travel with permits, and for ambassadors to talk. I am now ambassador to the ancestors.’
The stunned prefect led Jimmy into his office, seats offered. A type of local ale was offered, and sampled.
‘That you for your time,’ Jimmy offered, Pleb translating. ‘But please note that my soldiers outside will kill you if you show any disrespect.’
Pleb translated, the prefect accepting the idea, since it was how things were done around here in Seethan society.
Jimmy handed the prefect a few gold coins. ‘For you. Tell no one.’
The prefect nodded, pocketing the bribe.
‘Now, send word to the capital that we wish to see the President, and that we await invitation.’
Pleb explained where the camp was, and that he would return in a few days, the prefect promising to send word.
Jimmy stood, adding, ‘Send no soldiers to find us, they will die quickly. Now, come outside.’
Pleb translated whilst the three of them stepped past stunned administrators and into the street.
When the prefect drew level with Jimmy, Jimmy said, ‘Rifles! See the three men on that roof? Kill them!’
The Rifles fired, the three innocent bystanders bursting into flames and falling to the street, the crowd moving back.
In Seethan society, a few people being killed was nothing to fuss over, and strength was respected, the prefect impressed both by the weapons - and by the large soldiers, and not at all concerned by three of his loyal subjects being incinerated on Main Street.
As Jimmy led the group away, he noted the lack of females and children present. These were all adult males, the differences subtle, but he now knew what to look for. Leaving town, they passed a single old woman, Jimmy pointing her out to Pleb.
‘She cannot breed, she works,’ Pleb said very matter of fact.
At the next hamlet, Pleb enquired after the lunar cycle from a startled farmer. Facing Jimmy, he suggested that the Jesus character would appear in two day’s time, at midnight, a barn a few miles away. But that sometimes he didn’t come. They would know that a meeting was on by the crowds sneaking through the woods.
Back at camp, Jimmy dispatched Pleb with four ex-Marines, to take a route to the barn without being seen. Pleb would return to camp afterwards, hopefully finding it, the soldiers staking out the barn whilst employing night sights to monitor local movement. Those ex-Marines also had a few gadgets to install before the preaching began, and those gadgets had to be installed without anyone seeing the activity, certainly not the faithful themselves.
With a micro-portal open, and locked-on to by soldiers at the camp, Jimmy sent me a message: ‘Part one completed, meeting Jesus in two days’. With tents erected, the gang got comfortable, a fire going, local livestock killed and cooked, Jimmy recalling stories of his time in this area in Canada.
The following evening it was reported that Seethans were “sneaking about” the barn in question , and it appeared as if food and drink was being stockpiled ready. The meeting was on, Jesus being a punctual fellow it would seem.
Jimmy led his group out before dusk the next evening, the Kenyan’s holding the camp whilst the ex-Marines escorted Jimmy. Those Marines might be required to follow Jimmy to the future-dated Piscean world, and if necessary kill the poor unsuspecting portal operators they found there. The Marines also carried a small tactical nuke. But they would first try and capture the portal frequency being used and send it back to me, just in case a rescue mission was needed. Jimmy had a plan, but admitted that he would have to “wing it”.
Jimmy and the soldiers hid themselves in woods about four hundred yards from the barn, and observed the faithful arrive in groups of two or three.
‘Portal,’ a Marine whispered. ‘Locked on … power is modest … scanning … scanning … got the frequency … portal now off.’
‘Let’s go,’ Jimmy whispered, the Marines spreading out to surround the barn.
Jimmy placed in an ear-receiver as he stepped quickly forwards across a dark field, a few flickering lights glimpsed at the barn ahead, and that barn was now just a big black outline against the skyline. Nearing the barn, Jimmy slowed, each footstep measured, his earpiece now translating the words of Jesus to his followers.
‘… and if a man takes from another, he is diminished himself, for he steals from his brother, and is stealing from himself…’
‘Can’t argue with that,’ Jimmy muttered as he slowly advanced towards the barn door.
‘… and with a good deed, come pencils.’
Jimmy shook his head at the translation algorithms. Approaching the barn door, he halted Pleb, who had been creeping along beside Jimmy. With a nod, Pleb walked inside the barn, a greeting soon given.
‘Welcome brother,’ Jesus offered. ‘Are you … an official of the government?’
‘I am ambassador to the ancestors, to the Great Maker Jimmy Silo.’
Jesus stared at the newcomer. ‘You … said Jimmy Silo?’
‘Yes, he’s a very great man, very powerful.’
‘You … have met him?’ Jesus p
uzzled.
‘I work for him,’ Pleb proudly boasted.
‘You … work for him?’ Jesus puzzled.
‘How can you know an ancestor?’ a member of the congregation called.
‘They took me to their world through the ring of light,’ Pleb explained.
Jesus was now looking worried. ‘You … went to their world?’
‘Yes, the food is very good. Their world is this place, only not this place. The hills and valleys are the same, but … it is not here, but it is here.’
The congregation were not following, and getting rowdy. For some reason they thought that Pleb was either drunk, or a complete idiot.
Jesus raised a hand to silence them. ‘How … do you communicate with the ancestors?’
Pleb shrugged. ‘I speak English,’ he said in English.
Jesus was shocked. ‘You speak English?’ he repeated in refined English, the congregation not following.
‘Yes, that’s how we talk. You can talk to Mister Silo if you wish.’
‘I … can. How?’
‘He’s stood behind you.’
Jesus turned, shocked rigid, his shock evident to the congregation, who all now looked around as Jimmy stepped into the light.
‘Great Maker,’ was uttered many times as Jimmy moved forwards.
Jesus reached into is pocket and grabbed something, surprised when a portal did not open.
‘Your portal will work … when I allow it to work,’ Jimmy informed Jesus as he drew close. He looked the Seethan Jesus over. ‘Do you have any idea … how much trouble you are in?’
‘I’m … I’m … sorry, Great Prophet, but … but we wanted to alter things -’
‘In your future, is religion still suppressed?’
Jesus nodded.
‘I see. Well, I don’t blame you for trying, but altering the time line is a dangerous business, and best left to those with a little experience.’
‘I … I will not return here.’
‘No, you won’t, but we will take a little trip together, just you and me, back to where you came from. Your portal will work now.’
