Название | Apprentice Lost in Parallel |
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Автор произведения | Kevin Colbran |
Жанр | Историческая фантастика |
Серия | |
Издательство | Историческая фантастика |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781925819106 |
Introduction
How an innocent exploration leads to a life-changing event.
It started as an ordinary day commuting to the weekly course of aircraft maintenance in Sydney.
Adventures
"Well, here I am early again with 30 minutes to kill," I thought arriving at Ultimo Tech College (Biggest TAFE in the Free World) with the (sweet?) smells wafting in from the Kent Brewery on Broadway and the Sun Herald newspaper printers. The College consists of several purpose-built schools interspersed with shops and homes which were taken over to house offices and external courses altogether covering an area of roughly a square kilometre; interlaced with a labyrinth of streets and laneways.
Having entered the concourse of the Mechanical Campus from the car park end, I had walked past the stairs leading up to the Aircraft Maintenance School where I was to spend most of the day alternating between practical and theory classes. I was looking down the concrete hallway contemplating possibilities when something attracted my eye to the lift door opening nearby, and a man stepped out. On impulse, I slipped past the doors before they could close.
Looking around as the doors slid shut the row of buttons caught my attention. 'That's odd there are fourteen numbers including #13, doubly remarkable since there are only five floors in this building.' Not suffering from tridecaphobia, on impulse, I pressed the #13. The lift gave a strange lurch like it was going sideways, twisting as well as up. Lucky for my stomach this only went on for a few seconds.
The door slid open, revealing a corridor lined with lift doors of all sizes, whereas there should be only one alongside on an extended concourse. To quote Dorothy, ‘We are not in Kansas anymore, Toto.’
Failing to curb my curiosity I stuck my head out around the doors just as I heard 'bat twitter'; well you can imagine my surprise as at first glance it looked like a bunch of human-sized spiders coming down the hallway. Pulling my head back in, I desperately punched the 'door close button to no avail. "Well, what have here? Step out and let's see who we have.” When I remained, the cultured sounding voice coaxed, "Come on now I won't bite."
Tentatively I stepped out and was surprised to see a clown head perched on what seemed a natural face which in turn was sitting on shoulders and hairy arms.
"Come along, follow me," 'Clown head' said turning away down the corridor. Then noticing that I wasn't following, said somewhat testily. "Come on now; I haven't got all day."
I started to follow, and then one of the smaller spiders grabbed my bag. Surprised I protested. "Hey, that’s my lunch." There was a burst of the bat squeak, and then all of us moved off down the hallway, with no further drama. Clown head opened an office door and motioned me in; a Twitter apparently ordered the other spiders to go about their business. Following me in, Clownhead moved around to the other side of a low-slung desk, taking the clown head off like a hat and placing it on a corner. Giving his head a quick hand wipe, he reached into a drawer and pulled out something like a hairnet. He gave the net to me, with the clown head saying "Place this on."
Doing so, the apparent source of the speech now returned to Clownhead, "You may call me Silvertoe." holding up one foot adorned with a silver toenail to demonstrate why.
"Hello, my name’s Steve; Nice to meet you," I replied.
"Another one. What date and place are you from?" Silvertoe asked.
Despite being puzzled, I responded, "August 6, 1963, Sydney, New South Wales."
Holding a hand up to indicate enough, "Right, let’s see," Touching the top of the desk, which sprang into life with lines of writing and little pictures, touching several he announced "I have your origin now. I suppose you have a few questions?" When I stood there quietly; hopefully with mouth closed. Silvertoe carried on, "I will start then, now to flesh out the background, suppose you are walking down the road, and you come to a Y junction, you have no particular place to go, so you make a choice left or right. Each is as valid as the other. Following me?" I nodded, so he continued. "Having made a decision, there are now two worlds. We won't go into the mathematics just yet; potentially every decision made by each person creates a new world. Therefore theoretically the total is trillions, each with its’ timeline and future. In practice when two parallel worlds converge they merge with no one the wiser, and when the alternate world isn't viable, it also disappears."
"In my world's case, when my remote ancestors came out of the trees they had three pairs of limbs, and in your language, we could be called centaurs. Observe." With a few hand motions, a couple of figures appeared then rotated so that I could see a human like myself side by side with a spider/centaur standing on its’ hind legs. Another flick and two skeletons replaced them, and similarities were now very evident, the biggest difference being the shoulders supporting the extra limbs.
"Better have a stand-in while you are visiting." He flicked the screen, a view of a street and shop windows appeared, "Stop, turn left," now the window reflection showed the person who had stepped out of the lift at the start of the story. A couple of touches and then the picture changed to the clothes I was wearing. And now the face looked just like the one I had seen in the mirror this morning. Now dressed in the green jumper with grey work pants that I wore. "That's 457, an android or human form robot. He will join your class and then fill in for you until you return home. Since we have been studying your counterparts for years, he is fully programmed to act just like you."
Then a bell chimed, "Drat, someone just can’t get along without me; I will have to go out for a minute.Stay here and entertain yourself for a bit, shouldn't be too long, and then I’ll tell where your next destination." He replaced the clown head and then trotted out the door; only pausing to close it behind him.
Looking around, I located a chair beside the bookshelf, grabbing a book at random I sat down to fill in the time.
The title was 'Europe 1920 to 1950' by Adolph Schicklegruber.
'Odd yet familiar name' I thought, and then remembered that had been Hitler’s name before he took over Germany. Flicking through the pages there seemed to be no reference to the Second World War, which had finished a year before I was born. There was a confrontation between Russia and Europe; this had resolved to the 'Cold War' situation as I remembered. The next was similar except by Adolph Hitler and describes Germany reaching a peace agreement after the Poland invasion when confronted by the Allies and then joining the allies to confront the Russians who had invaded Poland from the East. Not able to concentrate on the books, I stood up and went to the window. Looking out onto a park which was not there in Sydney, within sight were several ‘spiders’ engaging in activities, sitting in the shade, running around and throwing balls, you know, just ordinary things.
Feeling a bit bored I opened the door and stepped out. Silvertoe's twin walked up, this time, with a 'Mephistopheles head' "There you are 267, follow me." Somewhat confused, I followed and then stopping at a lift door, he announced, "Into the lift you go, you have your instructions."
Doing as I was told, I entered the elevator; the doors slid shut reaching for the M button to take me home, 'Well, that's the end of that little adventure' the doors slid open onto the concourse I had left just a short time ago. Looking up at the clock I was shocked to see that the time was now late afternoon, for a couple of seconds, I thought 'Oops big trouble now ' until I remembered that `457’ was standing in for me.
One of my classmates walked by as I passed the bottom of the steps and looking puzzled, he asked,"How did you beat me down?"
I responded, "I know a shortcut, have to run." Knowing that the quicker I was, the less the traffic would be. Not quite running but I arrived at the car park to find that the old Morrie wasn't where I had parked it. Puzzled I looked around and spotted it a few cars away.
Feeling a bit silly for panicking, I started it up and joined the throng headed south down the Princes Highway. Slow it might be, but it beats walking to the train station, crowding into a carriage then standing for most of the trip and then finally walking the mile home. Finally arriving home in, Arncliffe, which overlooks Mascot Aerodrome also known as Kingsford-Smith Sydney International Airport