Miscorrection: Times

By Desmond Shepherd

After escaping imprisonment by the Diamonds, Jago has one purpose: Figure out a way to time travel to the past and ensure the assassination of President Daniel happens. The mission betrays not only the Diamonds but also his parents, who died by Karhath hands.

Completing the task will benefit all humanity. It’ll bring peace for centuries to come in a way no one could predict. This is how Jago lives with the choice he’s made.

Traveling into the past will be difficult. Jago has neither the resources or the means to finish his self-assigned mission. He is alone.

With no ally to turn to, Jago must work with his enemy—the Karhath—in order to bring the end of their empire and peace to the six-planet system.

Miscorrection: Times is the third book in the Miscorrection Trilogy. It is preceded by Miscorrection: Dimensions.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Benjamin C. Young
• Release date: Oct 31, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301665709

Desmond Shepherd

Desmond Shepherd is the author of many novels and short stories, including the emotionally gripping tale Imaginary Me and the episodic series The Permanent Man. He writes for your enjoyment, to stimulate imagination and to provide an escape from your everyday life. He thanks you for reading the fictional journeys he writes.Desmond resides in an old farmhouse in the Philadelphia suburbs with his wonderful wife and three children.

Book preview

When I was young, Dad and Mom owned a convenient store on the corner of Lemon and Sinkler Avenue on the south side of Ansil. Not a heavily populated city, but enough foot traffic anyway.

After school each day, I would go to the store and hang out for a couple hours. Then, my parents would close up for an hour, and we would go home for dinner.

I loved the store. It had all kinds of goodies. Popcorn. Chips. Candy. My favorites were the chocolate snacks.

But my parents, especially my mom, Casey, had a rule about the candy. If I took anything without permission, it would mean no television or video games. That didn't matter too much, especially since my parents rarely let me do those things in the first place. Most programs and games had underlying Karhath propaganda in them, which they hated.

Regardless, on the evening that everything changed for me, I swiped a chocolate bar from the shelf. At nine-years-old, I could live with the consequences.

The wrapper was brown and silver. I tried to open it, but the glue kept it sealed closed. My mom came around the corner, and I stuffed the chocolate bar in my shorts pocket, saving myself from the punishment and the snack for later—though I would never get a chance to eat it.

I walked behind the checkout counter and stood with my dad. His name was Felix. He was tall. My head reached just above his elbow. He combed his hair with a wet comb every morning and sprayed each strand in place. He wanted to leave a lasting impression on customers. Clean and respectable was his motto. He wore a long white apron that reached from his chest and nearly to the floor. Under that, a light blue long-sleeved collared shirt complemented the rest of the outfit.

The store was usually busy. Customers with children, most of them just out of school for the day like me, filed into the store for food or other supplies.

Can I push the button? I asked Dad. If he wasn’t busy, he would let me tap the button that released the cash drawer when a customer paid.

Not now, Jago. Too many people in line and I don’t want to hold them up. Why don’t you go in the lunchroom? He leaned down, put a hand on my shoulder. You can eat your chocolate bar there.

To this day, I’m unsure how he knew I had it. I quickly turned my gaze from him, looking to the linoleum tiled floor and kicking my right foot into it.

OK, I finally managed to say. I walked from behind the counter, passed a line of customers, turned right, and went into the lunchroom.

The lunchroom was big enough to fit five people. On one of the walls, papers hung on a corkboard backer. Most were permits and required documentation that had to be displayed in the business. A brown circular table with green plastic chairs was in the middle of the room.

I pulled the chocolate bar out of my pocket. Even during the brief time, it softened from the warmth of my body. As long as it wasn’t a gooey mess, I would eat it.

My seat gave me a view of the checkout line. Dad stood there, dealing with customers, while Mom straightened any out of place goods on the shelves.

I tried ripping the packaging of the chocolate bar open, but it was tough. If I had taken it with permission, I could have asked for help.

What are you doing? my mom asked.

I jumped, throwing the chocolate bar into the air. It smacked on the linoleum with a loud whack.

I was … was.

The cash register dinged as another customer paid for their stuff.

You know what I told you. Now hand it over.

Mom stuck her hand out, palm up, like she was expecting payment of cash to be counted in her hand. She pursed her dark red lipstick-colored lips and put the other hand on her hip. Her long black hair—blacker than night—was tied back and rolled into a bun behind her head. It kept her hair from getting into any of the homemade meals she prepared. Like my dad, she wore a white apron, but the undershirt had short sleeves and no collar.

I bent down and picked it up off the floor. I really wanted that bar. I could taste it. It was why I went to the store. It definitely wasn’t the first time we had this little standoff. Unfortunately, it would be our last.

I pulled the bar toward my body. I couldn’t give it up.

Give it to me, she said more sternly.

I began to hand the bar toward her. At the same time, there was a vibration in my feet. I looked down as it grew stronger. The table behind me began to rattle, and the trembling became so strong, the table moved along the floor.

I swallowed hard, thinking it was an earthquake. I had always heard about them in school and on the news. But we didn’t live along a fault line. We shouldn’t ever experience an earthquake.

Accompanied with the vibration was the sound of a motor of some kind. It hummed to my right, growing in intensity until it was impossible to hear anything.

Get under the table! my mom yelled to me.

I did as she said, still holding onto the chocolate bar. It was more difficult than it sounded. The vibrations continued to move the table across the room. I ducked under it, but crawled as it slid to the far wall. It finally stopped when it hit the wall, putting me to the right of the door.

Customers outside the door ran to the right, heading for the exit. A woman screamed and scooped up a little boy, probably half my age. She covered his head and body with her arms and continued to run.

The chocolate bar in my hand began to shake violently. I threw it to the floor, but my hands continued shaking. I hugged my body to stop it, but it, too, was engulfed with tremors. I was cold and scared. I wanted my parents to get me, but the vibrations continued and if I moved, they could knock me to the floor.

My dad yelled something and my mom responded. With the overhead noise and vibrations below, I had trouble understanding them.

The chocolate bar I threw to the floor vibrated away from me and to the wall on my right.

Hurry, my dad yelled. Get Jago. We have to get out of—

Before he could finish his sentence, a bright flash of light blinded my eyes. Red and orange engulfed the room and a loud boom burst into my ears. I grabbed at them, trying to scratch out the pain inside.

Another explosion.

The wall to my left blew outward sending debris my way. Another explosion on my side of the room stopped the debris from reaching me. It blew outward, forcing the debris back.

Bright flames of yellow and orange sprung up around me, the heat becoming intense. One of them hit the chocolate bar, lighting it on fire, and melting it to liquid.

The heat reached my exposed shins, singeing what little blond hairs I had on my legs. I had to get out of there or be burned up alive.

The explosions had stopped, and aside from the crackling of wood from the fire, everything else was quiet. I moved to the edge of the table’s cover.

Mom! Dad! I yelled. I failed to realize I had been crying from my fear. Dad!

I crawled along the floor slowly. Pebbles of debris, splintered wood, and drywall scraped against my knees as I moved.

Mom! I yelled again.

I reached the doorway into the store. A shelf of food had tipped, blocking it. The contents lay scattered all over the floor. Through my tears I spotted a small opening to my left.

I scooted along the floor on my butt, reaching the opening. I put my left arm through first, grabbing onto the shelf. As I slid by body through, the shelf shifted, sliding out a meter. Its top propped against the wall.

I froze. It would have been better for me to move through quickly. But I was scared and alone. I wanted my parents. I wanted it all to end.

The shelf began to move again with great speed. In a matter of seconds it was riding along the wall, preparing to slam into the ground.

I came out of my trance and began to move. My body escaped the shelf, but my right leg trailed behind. I was too slow to escape and the shelf slammed into my leg.

Aaaa, I screamed. The pain pierced through my shin, traveling through my entire body like a hover train. More tears streamed down my face.

I tried pulling my leg out from the shelf, tugging three or four times before I gave up. Each tug caused a new shot of pain and my leg was stuck.

I fell onto my back, waiting for the pain to end. Smoke floated above me at the ceiling. To my left a small fire burned.

Dad, I tried to scream. But my little body had seen enough. The energy was draining from me.

I tilted my head, looking for any sign of my mom and dad. The checkout counter was behind me and to the left.

That’s when I saw the thing that would change my life forever.

Laying on the floor, next to the checkout area, was my dad. He faced me, his eyes wide open. His hair was going in all directions. A stream of blood dripped from his mouth onto the floor where a small pool formed.

Dad! I yelled with all the energy I could. Dad.

He wouldn’t respond.

His hand was outstretched, like he tried to get something. I followed the path with my eyes, wiping away tears. Not far from him, my mother also lay. She was turned away from me, on top of a fallen shelf. A large piece of glass from the entrance door protruded from her back. Her shirt was soaked in blood and it ran over the shelving onto the floor.

Ma … Mom, I whispered. The energy had completely gone out from me. I continued to cry, knowing my parents were dead. I was trapped. I wanted to be as they were. How could I go on without them?

My eyes closed. It seemed like a second, but some time had passed.

I was awoken by the sound of something spraying. It was a lot like the Flowing Mount waterfall on Cormos. Thunderous and soothing at the same time.

I opened my eyes. Above me, a white substance moved. Spray from the substance, which turned out to be fire extinguishing spray, landed on me, coating me in a layer of white. The sound of hissing came all around as the fires around the building went out from the spray. The spray stopped and there was silence.

I turned my head to my parents. They laid in their positions. My dad staring at me. It was like he looked into my soul, accusing me of doing something wrong. Waiting for me to confess to something I shouldn’t have done.

My mom’s back was still facing me. She didn’t want to talk to me. I felt like I deserved it. I took that chocolate bar and I deserved the treatment.

I sat up, trying to remove my leg from under the shelf, but I was pinned. I continued lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. While saddened about my parents, I began to wonder what I would do. Where I would go. Or would I die there pinned underneath a shelf, starving and thirsty.

A new flood of tears was about to come when I heard noises.

Something was shifting toward the front of the store. It stopped, then I heard more.

I held my breath in the moment, unsure if I should call out or keep silent.

Did we hit the target? a man said. His voice was rough.

Well, we obviously did, sir. The store is— another voice said. It was higher pitched and shaky.

Not the store. Our target. Is this the headquarters. The reason we blew up the store.

According to the scans, I’m not finding anything that resembles one. Looks like everyone in the store managed to escape. Infrared shows two … no wait, three bodies. Two have gone cold, the other—

Silence. I continued holding my breath as shelving and debris shifted toward the front. It continued growing louder and closer with each second.

Who are they? the rough voice said. Where’s it show the live one?

Over here. To the left.

I looked over to my parents. My dad’s eyes told me to watch out. My mom’s back said to hide.

A tall, thin man stepped out from the debris, standing directly in front of my dad. He had blond hair, straight as a board, that was combed forward. He wore a one-piece dark green uniform with pockets all over it. He held a holopad in his left hand.

There he is.

I shut my eyes tight, foolishly thinking it would somehow take me away from the situation. Two sets of footsteps approached me. Slowly. Then stopped.

Short, quick breaths hit my face.

Son, the rough voice said. It’s okay. There’s been an accident. Do you know these people?

I opened my eyes. A man was crouched next to me. He wore the same type of uniform as the other man. But he was rounder in shape and had a thick black moustache. A military hat to match his uniform was on his head, covering most of his black hair that had patches of gray throughout it.

I said do you know these people? the rough voice said.

I turned my head to look at my dad. It was like his eyes said it was okay. I can tell him. My view to Mom was blocked by the tall man.

Yes, I said unsteadily.

Who are they?

My … my mom and dad. I curled my mouth in, trying to hold back any tears.

What are their names?

Um … Casey and Felix.

The man turned to the other one and said, Run it through.

He examined me, following my body to the pinned leg.

We’ll get you out of here, he said. There’s no situation that doesn’t have a solution. It might be a few minutes, but it’ll be okay.

He stood up and went back to the other man, talking in a lower voice. I could still hear them.

Got anything? he asked.

Yes. Good news. This might not be a headquarters, but it does appear that these two were antis.

Rebels? Well we have that. Anywhere for this kid to go? he asked.

The tall thin man tapped on his holopad.

Yes. He has a grandfather who lives in the area.

Any sign of him being, the man turned slowly to check on me then back to his conversation, anti.

No. Nothing in the record.

Contact him and let him know the situation.

The rough voiced man came back over to me and bent down.

We’ll have some people in here shortly to lift that off of you, he said. They’ll check out your leg. Make sure nothing’s broken.

OK, I said.

And we’re contacting your grandfather to let him know what happened.

Pop. A wave of relief washed over me. In that horrible mess, knowing that I would see him, have someone to console me, brought unimaginable comfort.

See. I told you there would be a solution. My name is Tivik, the man said. What’s yours?

Jago, I said.

I misunderstood him back then. Tivik wasn’t his name. It would be far in the future when I would realize his actual name was Tavak, as in General Tavak, an important figure in the Karhath Empire. And he was responsible for killing my parents.

1

I was back in my bedroom. Naked. The dark blue walls and poster of my favorite band, Gear Shift, gave me the clue. The sheets on my bed lay in a crumpled mess. The drawers of the dresser were open, what little contents in them thrown to the floor.

Before arriving in my bedroom, the Diamonds imprisoned me for what they considered treason. They were rebels to the Karhath regime and I was a member. Our goal to stop the Karhath was to travel to other dimensions, looking for a world where the Karhath never gained power. That knowledge would allow us to time travel back and prevent their horrible reign.

As an agent looking for the solution, I stumbled upon something I never expected. Something that in many ways betrayed my parents’ death. It tore me up inside. But the catalyst to the Karhath gaining power—the assassination of President Daniel 200 years earlier—had to happen.

My dimensional travel helped me discover that the current Karhath reign was temporary. Soon, the rebels would fight back and it would lead to at least a millennium of peace. If the course of history and time was altered to save President Daniel, preventing a hostile Karhath coup, it ultimately would end up in deplorable conditions for the six-planet system. Violence and war, and maybe destruction of the planets.

That couldn’t happen. As much as I would like to remove the Karhath from power, avenging the death of my parents by them, I had to look at the good for all humans.

When the Diamonds realized my motives led me down a path they never wanted, they locked me up. In the interim, they sent my best friend, Storen, back in time to stop the assassination of President Daniel because he found the key to doing so.

It seemed hopeless. History would change, leading to the demise of man.

But as I was locked in my cell, two guards came to transfer me to another location, the one guard knocked the other unconscious. The standing guard—who reminded me a lot of Lavan, the overall leader of the nine person Diamonds governing body—told me I had one week. He handed me a device that resembled a verstometer (a round silver device capable of many things from being a weapon to healing a wound). Before I had a chance to ask him what he meant, a bright light from the device engulfed me.

I shut my eyes. When the light subsided, I opened them, and I was in my old bedroom at my grandfather’s house, naked as the day I was born.

My room was a mess, probably because the Diamonds had it searched after my traitorous behavior.

I fell back onto my bed, attempting to understand what happened. One moment, I was in the Diamonds secret headquarters. The next moment in my room. While not long before I had traveled instantaneously from one location to another while at Headquarters—another unusual event I had yet to figure out—this movement was different.

The other had a flash of blue light. This one had a blinding white light.

The guard told me I had a week to get back there? But why? How?

He knew about the two possible futures and the one that couldn’t happen. The unfortunate consequence of a world filled with peace and tranquility meant President Daniel had to be assassinated.

How was I to proceed?

The book!

I had discovered a book in my dimensional travels. Discover’s a bad word. It found me. Someone knew I would arrive and I would need the information contained within the book called YOUR PLACE.

The writer directed his information to me, knowing my thoughts and intentions. Before I was pulled away from the reality of a peaceful world, I managed to read most of the book’s beginning.

I had no doubts as to the author of the book. Though impossible, it had to be me. I don’t recall writing it,