Magestic 3

Home > Nonfiction > Magestic 3 > Page 22
Magestic 3 Page 22

by Geoff Wolak


  ‘I’d like your assistance to build a transmitter, to … contact my world.’

  ‘Of course,’ Jimmy offered, just as the real Slumber walked in, appearing dazed and confused.

  ‘Sorry I drugged you,’ Slumber offered his human counterpart.

  ‘Wow, this is sooo … cool,’ the human Slumber let out. ‘I was chosen by a shape-shifting alien. Cool.’

  ‘I prefer the fake one,’ Jimmy told everyone.

  The fake changed his face as everyone observed, soon back as the older man with scars.

  ‘Cool,’ the real Slumber said.

  ‘Could you stop saying that,’ Jimmy told him. ‘OK, people, start building our guest a transmitter, top priority, all resources.’

  ‘You know, don’t you,’ the old man said. ‘Or you suspect.’

  Jimmy took a moment. ‘What I think … is that your world fought a war whilst you were away, and … lost.’

  Heads were lowered as Jimmy stepped out. He raised his phone as he walked. ‘I want an emergency meeting of all world heads from all the linked worlds, as soon as practical. Thanks.’

  Back at Manson, after dark, and sat with Susan and the babies, Jimmy linked in to me. ‘You awake?’ he asked me.

  ‘Yeah, and what you doing with my wife?’ I quipped.

  ‘I was just watching her breast feeding.’

  ‘She’s not producing milk, I check often!’

  ‘Listen, we have a problem. We found our traveller, he was on his way to you to see if any nasty aliens turned up and screwed around with Seethan history, not aware of the Seethan future, or the necklace. He missed the paradox because he was in Antarctica. Anyway, seems like one branch of his people are on the warpath, and he’s lost contact with his home world. Oh, and the unhappy chappies like wiping out human communities for fun.’

  ‘Should I … get some protection over here?’ I asked.

  ‘I don’t want to interfere with that time line – other than the obvious interference. Besides, we know how it turns out, and no nasty aliens are due to appear over there.’

  ‘Unless another paradox occurs.’

  ‘Well, yes, that is a possibility, and I’m not quite sure what the temporal result would be. Still, keep an eye out for strangers – they did visit that world before.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘The future Seether sent a ship back, which I thought was to find our traveller, but he was – apparently - there to find out who took a shot at that ship. The ship came first, so I don’t know why it went there – at that time. Anyway, this bunch of unhappy aliens targeted the Seethan ship, but didn’t hang around to wipe out the Antarctic colony or … anyone else. But they did attack a world used by their fellow shape shifters, and massacred humans, possibly to get to the others.’

  ‘What’ll you do?’ I asked.

  ‘What do you think … I should do?’

  I sighed. ‘When you ask me that question you already have a detailed plan, numb nuts.’

  ‘So, what would you do?’ Jimmy pressed.

  ‘I’d worry, because these aliens are a bit close for comfort, and may get our frequency.’

  ‘Would you … build better weapons?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Would you … go try and find them, and have a chat?’ Jimmy posed.

  ‘Sounds like they’re not the chatty type. But if we found their planet at an earlier date, we could go change the course of their future.’

  ‘Not even our new alien friend knows where they hang out. But, we do know two places were they’ll be, places and times. I would suggest … that if we’re going to pick a fight, that we do it on our terms.’

  ‘So you do have a plan,’ I complained.

  ‘I have a plan, but it’s open to discussion, and I have no interest in facing these unhappy chappies till I’ve stacked the deck. And that’s where the portals come in.’

  At the meeting of world leaders, held in New Kinshasa three days later, Jimmy took to the stage at the conference centre. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, mankind faces a threat, a new threat. We’ve seen an alien ship invade our airspace, we’ve seen an alien intruder walk our streets, and now … now I have information about a species that likes to wipe out defenceless human colonies.’

  They exchanged looks.

  ‘The alien intruder from Antarctica is now working with us, not least because it looks like his old world has been destroyed in his absence. Those doing the attacking are a branch of his species, very advanced, and a clear threat to us. Although, I will say, that we don’t know how our weapons would fare against them. I would like to take this opportunity to encourage all worlds that have the technology – and economies to back them up – to invest in missiles, tracking systems, scanners, high speed and high altitude and sub-orbital craft, and near-space technology. As well as the planned Moon base, which now seems … urgent.

  ‘As you might have already guessed, I have a plan. What I propose it this. My old world -’ He pointed at the leader of that world, President Samuels from Texas. ‘- is doing well, especially Africa and New Kinshasa there, and should be sent our best and brightest scientists, and a great deal of technology and computers, support staff and soldiers. We would then cut all portal ties with that world. Twenty years after the start date, twenty years having passed on that world, they send us a signal, a signal to say that they have developed a few nice new weapons – with the assistance of our new alien friend. That technology would then be available to all branches of mankind in a few weeks, not twenty years.’

  Many small conversations broke out as Jimmy waited.

  Gilchrist eased forwards. ‘There are other worlds … that are far better suited to the task.’

  ‘Are you offering to unlink your world, and to contact us again at this date?’ Jimmy posed.

  Gilchrist was on the spot. ‘That would not be my sole decision.’

  ‘I think, Mister Gilchrist, that your twin world would be … put out, by such a move.’

  ‘We would be,’ Baldy put in, getting a look from Gilchrist.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Jimmy called. ‘A show of hands for those in favour of my old world being isolated for this project?’ Way more than half of the delegates raised their hands. ‘In fairness to that world, they would receive three months worth of help, logistics, and a build up of supplies, the best technology and the best brains – those that wished to volunteer.’

  Jimmy pointed at President Ted Samuels of Texas, who was also the president of that world’s united government. ‘What say you?’

  ‘We’d need to discuss it with the various groups, but I would be willing to give it a go. We would advance further, just without contact – we wouldn’t be diminished by it. And we’re in as much danger as anyone else, if not more. Our military is small compared to many.’

  ‘We’ll now take a four hour recess for groups to discuss this, and for people to link home. Thank you.’ Jimmy left the stage.

  The current leader of the volunteers - on my old world of 2048 - stepped straight up to Jimmy. ‘Wherever this project is held, we’ll be there. We already have thirty thousand people on that world, and African agriculture is good.’

  ‘I knew I could count on you,’ Jimmy told the man, shaking his hand.

  The leader of Africa on that same world offered a massive loan – which was accepted, as well as men; the Rifles were ready to serve, he assured Jimmy. Others made similar offerings, but it all came down to the united government on Jimmy’s old world. But President Gilchrist wanted to be at the fore, developing the technology, and with some influence.

  Jimmy then surprised him. ‘You could open a portal once a day, and get a yearly update of research and technology sent back, and make a start on it here. But we need twenty years crammed into a few weeks, and for that we need someone to shoulder that burden.’

  ‘A stepped programme might be better,’ Gilchrist agreed. ‘And … what our people develop over there would come back to us?’

  ‘It matters not wh
ose flag is on the missile, so long as the missile defends Earth,’ Jimmy suggested. ‘You could have your own research facilities in America on that world, maybe even in Texas, and that technology would come back to you – and you alone.’

  ‘Why are you being so helpful all of a sudden?’

  ‘Mankind is in danger. If I thought it would save lives, I’d give you a blowjob.’

  Gilchrist stiffened, and walked off.

  ‘Do I get something oral?’ Shelly asked, easing through the crowd.

  ‘No, that would cause a scandal. What you doing here?’

  ‘Britain, on many worlds, has elected me as ambassador to this meeting.’

  ‘Not thinking of taking a trip, I hope?’ Jimmy cautioned.

  ‘Why not?’ Shelly whispered. ‘Are such risky things the preserve of just those humans with wrinkly balls?’

  Jimmy gave her a fatherly, disappointed look. ‘You have a family.’

  ‘Who don’t call so often, and … I’m getting stale. I could work my political magic and … organise projects. And it’s not the Moon, it’s just another world for a while.’ She tipped her head. Jimmy turned to see my son, Toby, approaching.

  ‘Jimmy,’ he greeted.

  ‘You a senior politician now?’ Jimmy curtly asked him.

  ‘I represent Trophy Aerospace, who … want a big bit of the action.’

  ‘And you might get to fly some orbital craft, fast ones, with weapons,’ Shelly teased.

  ‘I hadn’t really thought about it,’ Toby suggested, being stared at.

  ‘And your wife?’ Jimmy nudged.

  ‘We kinda … broke up a bit.’

  ‘Broke up a bit?’ Shelly said in a forced whisper. ‘You were caught with a model!’

  ‘Looking to join the Foreign Legion?’ Jimmy quipped.

  Toby shrugged and grinned.

  ‘You need to grow up,’ Shelly told him.

  ‘Yes, grandma,’ he retorted, getting a pointed finger.

  ‘Shelly,’ Jimmy called. ‘Your application to go just got approval. You have some babysitting to do. Go pack a bag.’

  In the second session, a formal vote came in at seventy-four percent approval, which was enough. They would now wait till the morning, and for Jimmy’s old world to vote on it. Jimmy travelled around to the mansion, and found Helen and Selemba by the pool.

  ‘Don’t you do any work?’ he quipped.

  ‘I’m raising a future queen,’ Helen pointed out, Jimmy lifting Selemba onto him.

  ‘God, you’re getting fat, young lady.’

  ‘She eats more than I do! She’s eight months, but the size of a human at thirteen months.’

  Jimmy rubbed his nose against Selemba’s, getting his hair pulled. ‘Good grip as well.’

  ‘How did the meeting go?’

  ‘Most are in favour, it’s just down to my old world now. But, if they’re against the idea, I’ll do it anyway – someplace else.’

  ‘You think they could develop suitable weapons in time?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Doesn’t … matter?’ Helen queried, easing up.

  ‘Those weapons are my fall-back position. I’ll look for a solution that doesn’t involve a war here.’

  ‘If you go talk to them … they might just kill you,’ she cautioned.

  He nodded, Selemba shrieking as he made faces at her. ‘I have an idea or two.’ The other Helen, Helen Silo, stepped out. ‘Here,’ he said, handing over Selemba to his wife. ‘How’s that for an eight month old baby.’

  ‘Rather heavy,’ Mrs Silo agreed, sitting with the baby in her arms. She took a moment to study Jimmy. ‘There’s talk of a war, and given who you are, you’ll probably be right in the thick of it.’

  Jimmy sighed, and looked away. ‘The pilot controls the plane because he’s qualified.’ He turned back. ‘Anyone else … might crash the plane … and kill all of the passengers, including passengers he cares about.’

  Helen Holton took in the two faces. ‘Shelly wants to go and take part in the research project.’

  ‘Yes,’ Jimmy agreed. ‘I met her today. And Toby will be going. And as we speak, our future Christopher is off playing at being me, a fifty year mission.’ He held his gaze on his wife.

  ‘Don’t expect me to understand,’ she told him. ‘Or to ever want to let you go.’

  They exchanged uneasy looks.

  ‘You’ll never change,’ Jimmy began, ‘and neither will I. Maybe you made a poor choice by choosing me.’

  ‘My choice was fine, it’s … the universe that’s getting in the way.’

  ‘You had twenty quiet years,’ Helen Holton put in. ‘That was more than me and Paul ever got. I expected to be killed or exposed at any moment, every day for years, and I would still like to go kick the universe for arranging that.’

  Mrs Silo softened. ‘Yes, we did have twenty quiet years.’

  ‘And good years,’ Jimmy added. ‘Except the plumbing in that damn house.’

  The next morning, the government of Jimmy’s old world gave a provisional go-ahead, but would discuss it at national level in the days ahead. Jimmy sent a signal, and portals burst into life, supplies soon being sent to that world, primarily to three locations; Manson, England, and Mawlini. In England, the portal was large enough for two trains side by side, and goods wagons now passed through, all laden with high-tech equipment. Passenger trains ferried through soldiers and their families, pilots, scientists - the best volunteers that could be found at short notice.

  In Manson, Trophy Aerospace went into over-drive, and sent through one specially designed truck every six seconds, those trucks soon heading towards the small town of Trophy on that world, where an airfield had been created many years earlier, aircraft factories raised.

  That world still had radiation issues on the east coast of America and Canada, and the Seattle-Vancouver area had remained important after I had arrived with my US Marines. That area was now densely populated, and many USAF bases operated there, that world having advanced some twenty years since I had fought back The Brotherhood. Texas was its own country, but cooperated because they knew we had all the goodies to offer. Africa on that world was well developed, but just around the Congo and in Kenya. Other parts of Africa lagged behind. Europe was sparsely populated still, except Britain, where Churchill of 1938-world had sent through many men and supplies for his countrymen after the Second World War.

  The Middle East on that world was a no-go zone, even for the locals, Turkey destroyed, Greece and Southern Italy both waste grounds, North Africa a desert with little life. But Australia and New Zealand had done well, as had Indonesia and others. Large parts of India were habitable after its brief nuclear war with Pakistan, but Pakistan no longer existed, hit by many missiles.

  We had drilled for oil off Zanzibar Island, and that oil now fuelled growing economies in India and Australia, Indonesia and Malaysia. Indonesia had sided with The Brotherhood to start with, but the citizens there had eventually turned against the hard liners, who were seen to be corrupt.

  But by far the best economy on that world operated in South America, hardly touched by either the war or The Brotherhood. They had internalised their markets after the war, as well as during the isolation years, but my arrival on that world had sparked trade - I had also informed them where the oil was to be found around South America. That oil had caused an internal boom, and that led to a trade boom with Texas, with Australia, with Britain in time, and eventually with us in Africa. With their populations injected, the South Americans witnessed a baby boom, and we welcomed sixty thousand of their citizens into Africa, Salsa dancing now a common sight in the Congo.

  During my years fighting The Brotherhood I had always kept one eye on post-war development, and some aspects of my plan were easy enough to implement. We found large cargo ships anchored and abandoned - and pinched them away, their owners in Europe long since dead. Within a year we had gained a fleet of some two hundred large ships, controlled at first by Marines,
finally by people recruited from anywhere we found them along the way, a few press-ganged into service.

  We had people from all nations crewing our ocean-going tubs, and some of these ships were huge. That fleet meant that we could trade, and trade oil. That oil went to India and Australia, and food and equipment came back. Technology and weapons went to South America, tinned food and livestock coming back to us in Africa.

  The Marines had also discovered airliners sat abandoned, gathering dust. Fortunately, many of the aircraft had plugs over air-intakes to stop sand getting in. A few started at the first attempt with external power plugged in, most needing some work. Many of the Marines could fly a plane, after a fashion, and a few shaky take-offs and landings were witnessed.

  A brave crew had then flown a Boeing 767 from West Africa to Brazil, where the Brazilians checked over the aircraft; the Brazilians retaining plenty of skilled pilots and engineers. Some of those pilots and engineers flew back to Africa, and started Central Africa Airlines. The airline had no paying passengers at the time, and to start with simply ferried Marines around, or bits of equipment, a few displaced people being offered a ride home.

  The first flight up to Britain had been a milestone, and from there they had flown on to Russia, welcomed by people glad to be alive, and glad of the drugs that our people had taken with them. A Brazilian 747 made the trip to Australia and New Zealand, many people turning out to see it. How we had taken simple things like aircraft for granted; a nuclear war will alter a person’s perspective.

  Now, on Jimmy’s old world, you could say that Australia and New Zealand, Indonesia, Singapore and Malaysia, Central Africa and South America were back at a level of technology and civil democratic cooperation similar to that of 1970. Britain and America would take longer, but they were coming along, the American states being led by Texas, which now included New Mexico, Utah, Louisiana, Oklahoma and Colorado, and parts of Wyoming and Montana along the trail north. The Redneck who ran Texas, President Samuels, was – annoyingly - doing a good job of it.

  President Samuels, who had cooperated little in the first two years of my stay, hung ‘em high for spitting on the sidewalk, and ‘put down’ anyone with a serious disability or injury. An elderly person failing a memory test would be put down humanely, their property appropriated for the state, a baby being born deformed put down straight away. Resources were scarce, so I had a hard time arguing against his policies.

 

‹ Prev