Apprentice Lost in Parallel. Kevin Colbran

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Название Apprentice Lost in Parallel
Автор произведения Kevin Colbran
Жанр Историческая фантастика
Серия
Издательство Историческая фантастика
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781925819106



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now fulfilled, the whole family traipsed back to Toowoomba, Wendy having justified it had said, “Might as well go shopping while we are at it.”

      Found the Heritage foyer open, fare-welled everyone, I then stepped into the lift with fingers crossed. "Here's hoping I get it right this time," I said to myself. Stepping out into Silvertoe’s corridor, again I copied the characters over the doorway, together with Toowoomba 93. Crossing my fingers I walked into the next, going through the process of character notation, button pushing and the doors to open. So far so good, Ultimo College, stop, check clock time against my watch, darn still out by an hour. ‘Time enough for an exploration,’ Looking out onto the car park, OK so far, cars the same as my era so am not far off.

      Then I spotted the difference, most of the passing students were darker and looked aboriginal with only the balance being 'European’. Supposing the college library was in the same place I thought that would be a good place to do some research. There was the library, seeking out the history section; I found that about half the books were in English. Selecting one of these, it seems, Captain Cook did explore and found a moderately advanced civilisation up to the stage of trade and political federation somewhat ahead of the Maori culture. The local administration was quite welcoming and helpful. As time passed, commerce proceeded together with some migration, although without mention of convict transportation.

      Strangely I had been getting a few startled glances; perhaps I reminded them of someone.

      Given the time of day, this alternative would be in class or at work. Having established that this was not ‘my’ world, there was no point waiting around most of the day, just to have to explain everything again. I returned to the lift and the Transworld doors to try another.

      The next door opened to a new location, still unfamiliar, so out of curiosity, I stepped out to explore. Going by the cars etc., this was still nowhere near my destination. So off for a stroll, first stop was at a newspaper shop; the area is Shoalhaven and the town of Nowra, the year 1979. Approximately 100 miles South of Sydney, as Steve 3 told me, he had been in the Navy near here. It was a charming country town with wide roads lined with trees and mostly low-set shops. Next stop, a phone box for the telephone book and there was my name. As I had been given a pocket full of change in case of need, I rang the number to inquire. I explained to the woman who answered the phone that I would like to talk to Steven on a family matter. Cheryl, his wife, said that he was home today and asked would I like to talk to him.

      “Yes, that would speed things up, much appreciated,” I replied.

      “Hullo,” came the familiar voice. “How can I help you?”

      “This may sound strange, but I am you from an alternate world.” I began, “It still weird to me, but I'm lost you see, and as I find other places, I am touching base at each in the off chance that one of me knows the way home.”

      “Strange, I’ll grant you that, I am afraid I wouldn't be much help in the getting home,” Steve 4 replied. “If talking helps, then perhaps we can meet and work something out.”

      “Curiosity would be satisfied if nothing else. I’m at the phone box on the main street, opposite the paper shop.” I finished.

      “Okay then, we will load up the car and see you in a few minutes.” Steve 4 said.

      Finding a seat at the side of the street, I sat down to wait. A red station waggon pulled up, stepping out there was a familiar face wearing a woolly beard and glasses. From the passenger side a taller woman, Steve 4 introduced her as Cheryl, then from the rear, three children, Karen, Barry, and Sara, with me being identified as a cousin with the same name. The two older children were skinny and blond, so I guessed from the previous marriage of Cheryl’s. Sara on the other hand, short, brown hair, and a cheeky grin looked like my younger sister Sally at that age.

      Steve 4 suggested a milkshake while we talked, everyone thought that was a great idea. The local milk bar proved to have the same quality milkshakes as I liked. While we were enjoying these, I gave a slightly abbreviated version of the day's travels. Talking to each other, I caught up with the current situation; it seems that ‘I’ was a petty officer in the Navy stationed at HMAS Albatross. He was waiting for transfer to HMAS Melbourne as ship’s company, something he wasn’t looking forward to, as Cheryl was expecting a child.

      Without thinking, I asked. “Thomas?”

      “What? That’s the name we thought about if the baby is a boy. Have no indication yet as to a boy or girl.” Cheryl and Steve said together.

      “Um, just guessing, that was our Grandfather’s name.” was the lame explanation I put forward.

      “No really?” Cheryl demanded.

      “Well I haven’t been entirely accurate with you, I am a younger Steve, and I have met an older version. He mentioned that he had a son named Thomas.” This answer sounded a bit limp. I was starting to realise that further talk on the subject might bring out revelations best left unsaid.

      Not mollified, Cheryl asked. “What year was this, and where?”

      “93 and Toowoomba, Steve didn’t explain much past that the Navy retired the Melbourne after he left the ship. The replacement aircraft carrier purchase fell through because England needed it after a war in the Falklands. The Labour Government decided that we couldn’t afford a new ship, having been elected in the meantime.Therefore, the fleet air arm was reduced to helicopters only. Steve then took the option of transferring to the Army at Oakey in Queensland.”

      Cheryl wouldn’t leave it alone. So she asked. ”And who else was there?”

      “Well, understanding that it may not happen and a different decision could change everything.”

      “Yes and what else are you covering up?” Cheryl kept digging.

      “He had a different wife and the last he knew that Tom and Sara were in Adelaide, and that’s all I know.” This comment left the two of them puzzled by the way they looked at each other.

      I went on, “I was on a short timetable and still trying to get home. As it is, my day is rapidly disappearing as this is the fourth place I have visited.”

      “To give you an idea that any outcome is likely. Aboriginals who had been more advanced when Captain Cook arrived was the situation of the last place I visited,” I finished helpfully.

      This explanation settled things a bit but being ever the loose lips; I added, "I guess that Steve only mentioned Tom because there had been a bit of trouble between Sara and Wendy." From Cheryl’s glare, I realised that was a mistake. Old and new wives are best not to be mentioned in front of the other apparently especially if children are in the mix.

      “I had better get a move on before the day is out. Glad to have met you, Goodbye.” I finished. From the looks I received, my leaving was an improvement. Farewells exchanged I fled into the building with the lift. I hope I didn’t stir up too much trouble.

      ‘Well as they say’ I thought, 'Any day that you learn something new is not wasted.’

      Trying the next door, I exited into the now familiar Toowoomba; I went through the routine of consulting the newspaper to determine the date. It was 2005 and later in the day, next step the phone call; ah, no listing for me though there was one for Wendy. Since I guess the connection between the alternates is myself at different ages, and this one was still active, therefore ‘I’ must still be here. So I rang Wendy and received the information; “Yes Steven lives in town, and he would still be out driving a taxi at this time of the day and normally be home around 5 pm.” She then gave me directions on how to get there.

      This information was helpful but not too much so; as I received the feeling that all wasn’t right with them. I followed the instructions, and it involved walking about a mile or so. Arriving outside the address at the appointed hour, I knocked on the front door having confirmed that there was a red car parked in the carport. The door opened, and the oldest ‘me’ so far stood there adorned with a grey beard and minus the glasses. I introduced myself as Steve and then explained my quest. I could see by the