Defying Destiny (Parallel Past Series) Book 4

By Edward J Schneider

It is the fall of 1864 and fourteen years since Chandra Jarvis plunged through a wormhole from San Francisco of 2150 into a parallel, 1850 universe along the Oregon Trail in Southwest Wyoming. A computer chip implanted in the base of Chandra’s skull as a child, and her futuristic smartsuit of special fibers helped her to navigate and survive the dangers of the Old West.

After a tumultuous affair spanning two years and great distances, Chandra married, bore a daughter and spent the past twelve years teaching elementary school in Portland, Oregon. She and her husband embark on separate odysseys trying to influence an event that she knows is coming. They have to navigate the hazards imposed by Native American uprisings and the Civil War. Will they be able to accomplish this or is destiny too rigid and uncompromising to allow it?

Rejoin Chandra in this fourth novel of the Parallel Past time travel series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Edward J Schneider
• Release date: May 26, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311372109

Edward J Schneider

Biography of Edward J. SchneiderI was born in 1941 in a little town in Southeastern Wyoming called Wheatland and am the middle of six children. I graduated from Torrington High School in 1941 and moved to the Los Angeles area when I was twenty-one years old and spent the next fifteen years going to night school, working as a chemistry lab assistant, a data control clerk, and a computer operator.Missing the sunsets, beautiful clouds, and the breathtaking views of far horizons—and the good people—I eventually moved back to Cheyenne, Wyoming. I worked for the state as a programmer analyst for the next eleven years. Making a move to Idaho Falls, Idaho I went to work for INEL. I also meet and married my wonderful wife Judy while there. In 1990 we moved to the Salt Lake Valley where I finished my career for the State of Utah and retired in 2006. After retirement we homestead in Bridger Valley, Wyoming for a number of years. Due to health issues and the need for nearby doctors, regretfully, we moved back to Utah to a city called Tooele where I presently live with the love of my life, my wife and partner, Judy.I’ve wanted to write novels for years but life kept getting in the way. I wish I’d started sooner but feel fortunate I still have time to do so. I might add, my children, grandchildren and even my dear mother-in-law, Luella love reading my books and that is one of the great joys of my life.

Book preview

Prologue

April 14, 1865

10:00 p.m. EST

Chandra’s Former Universe

Washington, DC

President Lincoln and his wife, along with Major Henry Rathbone and his fiancée Clara Harris, arrived late and seated themselves in the Presidential Box, which consisted of two corner box seats with the dividing wall removed.

Missing from the gathering was policeman John Frederick Parker, who, as bodyguard, should have been with the president at all times. His absence was not noticed—until it was too late.

Mary Lincoln, while clinging to her husband’s hand, said, I’m sorry about the Grants, but Mrs. Grant and I cannot abide each other. I’m glad Major Rathbone and Miss Harris are here instead. Then smiling, she whispered, What will Miss Harris think of my hanging on to you so?

President Lincoln smiled, murmuring an inaudible response.

Mary settled back to watch the play just as the audience started laughing uproariously. She hardly heard the shot over the laughter, though she sensed her husband slumping forward suddenly. She caught him, screaming as she saw a man standing directly behind President Lincoln’s limp form, the barrel of his derringer still smoking.

Quickly, Rathbone leapt from his seat trying to prevent John Wilkes Booth from escaping. Booth drew a knife, cruelly cutting the major’s arm. Momentarily shocked, Rathbone recovered quickly enough to try to grab Booth, who was preparing to leap from the box sill.

To Mary’s horror, Booth swept the knife at Rathbone, wounding and fending him off while leaping from the box rail to the stage about twelve feet below. As Booth disappeared over the edge, she saw his riding spur get tangled in the Treasury flag decorating the box, and she heard him cry out in pain when he landed with a thump below.

Hugging her husband to her, she heard Booth shout, "Sic semper tyrannis! This was Latin, meaning, Thus, always to tyrants. Then she heard him shout, The South is avenged! Mary Lincoln screamed in duet with Clara Harris as Rathbone cried, Stop that man!" causing the audience to realize this wasn’t part of the play.

Pandemonium erupted in Ford’s Theatre. A group of men, some of whom were doctors, burst into the box with no small degree of shouting to take the president somewhere to be treated.

Lincoln was carried to a boardinghouse across the street from Ford’s Theatre, where the doctors attended him and desperately tried to save his life.

Mary Lincoln tried to stay by her husband’s side for support, but had become so hysterical that US Secretary of War Edwin M. Stanton ordered her removed from the room. She sat sobbing in the front parlor, Stanton’s orders for the pursuit of Booth ringing in her ears.

At seven twenty-two a.m., April 15, 1865, President Lincoln died.

Mary realized then that Abraham’s tender answer to her hand-holding question just moments before he was shot—She won’t think anything about it—were the last words he’d uttered in this lifetime.

Chapter 1

September 1, 1864

9:00 p.m.

Mrs. Davis’s Boardinghouse in Portland, Oregon

And that’s Sugar’s account of the assassination of Abraham Lincoln as it had unfolded in my former universe. For some reason, she chose to tell it from Mary Todd Lincoln’s point of view. Chandra smiled slightly at Sean Dillon, her husband. Maybe she thought it would add drama instead of just giving a dry report of the events. Sean stared at Chandra as they sat on the couch in the living room where they stayed, in Mrs. Davis’s boardinghouse on the second floor. Even after being married for ten years, he never tired of the sight of her statuesque height of six feet one that nicely matched his six-feet-three-inch frame, or her long, lustrous, ebony hair and her mesmerizing sky-blue eyes.

Sean and Chandra chose to call this place their home. Besides, they both knew that Chandra—though she was a good cook—couldn’t begin to match the superb culinary abilities of Mrs. Davis. That was enticing reason enough to stay.

Earlier, Sean and Chandra were making idle conversation when he asked if it would be possible to change a future significant event for the better. Not realizing this subject could affect their relationship, Chandra had innocently asked Sugar to do an analysis on the possibility. She did this in the presence of Sean, who was aware of Chandra’s little friend, a computer chip implanted behind her ear that came with her when she was catapulted into the parallel universe—and Sean’s world of 1850—from her universe and world of 2150. Only Chandra could hear and understand Sugar, and while a bit unnerving at first, Sean had learned to accept the uniqueness of his futuristic wife.

Sugar asked Chandra ~~ What span of time should I analyze? ~~

Chandra said aloud, Oh, from now till the end of this century.

A few seconds went by and Sugar buzzed ~~ Well, preventing Lincoln’s assassination would only require the effort of one or two people, and its consequences would be huge. ~~

She relayed this answer to Sean, after which he became agitated. This made Chandra extremely uncomfortable because she could sense a disagreement with Sean developing. She wished that they had never started this discussion. Sean bolted upright and paced excitedly. Weren’t other men holding vital government posts to be killed too?

The attempts to kill them failed and those conspirators were caught and punished. They had no influence over the consequences one way or the other. Chandra shook her head. I know where this is leading, and before you say any more, the answer is no.

She could see signs of anger building in Sean. His ears were pinking up nicely. And why do you say that? he demanded.

For starters, it would be dangerous. Something could happen to you, leaving Riona fatherless, and me without a husband.

I think I need a drink, Sean said as he walked to the mantle over the fireplace where a crystal decanter of whiskey sat. He poured a stiff drink and kept his back to her while he drank it. She watched him and reflected on their past, trying to remember if they’d ever had a serious quarrel or disagreement during the time they had known each other. Offhand, she simply could not remember any. There’s a first time for everything, she thought.

Chapter 2

Sean sat down with his drink in his hand. I can see the danger in trying to prevent Lincoln’s assassination, but I believe it’s worth the risk. He examined Chandra’s face. I also can see in your eyes that there is more to it than our family’s welfare. Tell me what else worries you.

Patiently, she explained, Sugar, who contains the sum total of mankind’s knowledge from my former universe, has written programs trying to analyze if something like that is possible. Obviously, since I’ve arrived here, I’ve affected the outcomes of many of my acquaintances and loved ones. Sugar says those are equivalent to stirring up small eddies and sand bars on, say, the Mississippi River. They don’t affect the overall flow or fate of the river. But this Lincoln proposal would be like trying to divert the river’s flow from southward to eastward, or like building a major dam across it to form a huge lake. Small changes don’t affect much, but Sugar thinks that trying to change a major event might be very difficult and highly unpredictable in its results. She can’t ensure that such a change would necessarily make things better in the long run.

Sean sipped his drink, set it down, and began pacing. Darling, we’re in possession of a great gift. It can’t be wrong to try if our intentions are good.

Yeah, Chandra wryly replied, and the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Sean stopped to grab his drink from the table. He sipped, then said, I can see that trying to alter events such as the Civil War would be impossible—too many variables. But preventing this assassination might produce incalculable good that I can only guess at. I promise you that if you’ll agree with me, I’ll never ask you to do any other interventions.

Chandra shook her head adamantly. No, Sean. With Riona in our lives . . . I just have to say no. Sean stared intently at Chandra. My love, if Lincoln is killed as you say, what will the effects be?

She answered, "The North will be outraged. Lincoln had decided not to go with his first vice president, Hannibal Hamlin, for the 1864 ticket because he wanted Andrew Johnson, a proven capable wartime governor of Tennessee, who was tremendously popular in the South. Lincoln wanted to be sure to get enough electoral votes from the union side of the South to be re-elected. He and his advisors wouldn’t have picked Johnson if they knew there was a chance that he could one day ascend to the presidency, because they knew him to be a narrow-minded, stubborn man, who would like for the South to return to its former ways.

"However, with Lincoln’s assassination, Johnson does make it to the presidency. He’ll be totally ineffective because of fighting with Congress. He will be impeached. He’ll avoid being forced out of office by only one vote. A series of weak presidents will follow, who will do little or nothing toward the reconstruction of the South.

"Already there are unscrupulous men and organizations that are hatching plots to rape and pillage the South after the Civil War is over. Lincoln’s assassination will offer the perfect excuse. Northern politicians will do what will later be called ‘waving the bloody shirt’ for forty years after the Civil War ends to make the South pay reparations. Northerners called ‘carpetbaggers’ will descend on the South like locusts and bleed her dry. The Southerners will look for scapegoats and, unfortunately, the freed black people will be targeted. Terrible organizations will form that will persecute and hold back the black people for nearly a century before Civil Rights movements begin to give them equal rights, starting in the 1950s. There will be poisonous hatreds born that will persist until well into the twenty-first century.

If Lincoln lives, Sugar says he won’t permit the rape of the South, will encourage the assimilation of the former slaves into society through education, and radically curtail the formation of hate organizations. Sugar believes that the United States will advance scientifically and socially at least fifty years or more sooner than it did in my old world.

Sean looked at Chandra triumphantly. My God, Chandra! Then what’s the issue? I can’t think of a nobler reason to try to alter such an event!

Chandra frowned. The trouble with all this is that Sugar can only predict the changes for a comparatively few years. Don’t forget, Europe is evolving too. There were terrible wars and slaughters during the twentieth century that killed millions of people. Who’s to say that if Lincoln’s life is saved, even worse events could happen during the next hundred and fifty years? She sighed. Besides, it would still be very dangerous for us to intercede. After all, Booth will have a loaded derringer, and he could very well shoot you instead.

Scratching his head, Sean asked, Why not arrive days earlier, find Booth, and kill him?

I’ve already thought of that and asked Sugar about it. After factoring that in, she said it would be necessary to be close in time to the actual event in order to stop it.

Sean queried, puzzled, Why is that? Why would that matter?

Chandra grimaced. Her explanation is way beyond my understanding, but her condensed answer is that the space-time continuum has a way of snapping back to its original form if one tries to change an event too early. In other words, if we stopped Booth days earlier, then the universe would cause something or someone else to kill Lincoln at the appointed assassination time.

Okay, Sean said, pacing again, running his fingers through his thick, tawny hair. But still, Chandra . . . we have to try!

She scoffed, Have you cooked up a plan yet that would ensure success and your safety? If so, then I’m all ears.

Gesticulating wildly, he stared at her. "Good grief, woman. I’ve just learned that our president will soon be killed and I am stunned! Of course, I don’t have a plan! But with your help, we could work on that. Can’t you understand? You’ve just told me of a possible wonderful outcome. Surely, no outcome could be worse than the one that follows in your former world."

Thinking of all-out nuclear, biological, or germ warfare, Chandra growled, You have no idea how much worse things could be than they were in my world. She sighed and softened her tone. I know you want desperately to do this, but I’ve made up my mind. We should leave things alone.

Sean shouted, I can’t accept that! A thought struck him. Turning to Chandra, his tawny eyes flashing, he growled, You knew about this assassination attempt all along and didn’t tell me about it until tonight. If we try to stop it, we have a little over eight months to get to Washington, DC, before April 14 of next year. Ordinarily that would be plenty of time, but now the Oregon Trail is dangerous because of conflicts with the Indians. It may be snowing by November, and God only knows the possible delays that the war could inflict. Pacing, his mind racing through the alternatives, he said, Taking a sailing ship around the tip of South America might get us there in time—that is, if the winds at the Strait of Magellan cooperate. Ships get to the Magellan Strait in about two months, if they don’t dawdle too long in ports along the way. They like to arrive at the straits around the first of December, which is the height of summer down there. His eyes were ablaze with frustration. So they wouldn’t leave for another two months, which would be too late to accomplish anything. Did you deliberately avoid this particular subject until it would be too late to do anything?

Have you lost your senses? In case it slipped your mind, we only started talking about this tonight!

Sean glared. He paced more, furiously thinking. He stopped, faced her, and pointed his finger. You don’t want to rescue Lincoln because then you couldn’t know the future. It would scare you, he accused. She snapped back, That’s nonsense! I grew up without knowing the future in my old world.

Sean smirked, Yes, but you told me yourself that your old life was boring because one year was much like another. You said there were no more wars and that crime had been practically abolished. He shrugged his shoulders. It strikes me that you lived in a world where the future was very predictable.

Chandra’s laser-blue eyes flashed anger. This is really about your damned honor, isn’t it? You’ve never gotten over letting me talk you out of enlisting in the Northern Army!

He growled, I should have enlisted and served my country.

She shot back, I told you, whether you fought in the war or not would not affect the outcome one scintilla!

He shouted, Still, I should have enlisted for my honor’s sake. When she opened her mouth to retort, he interrupted, Never mind! He strode over to the whiskey decanter, snatched it up along with his glass, and stormed into the guest bedroom, slamming the door.

***

The liquor started to take hold but not enough to prevent him from formulating a rough plan. He’d have to get supplies and prepare for a journey on horseback alone until he reached Fort Bridger. He could stop at Liam and Katy’s place and try to enlist Liam or one of his sons to come with him, but he had a feeling they’d side with Chandra and try to talk him out of going. By the time he talked one or more of them into accompanying him, it would be likely that Chandra would catch up with him. And catch him she’d try—about that, he had no doubt . . . so he had to get as big a lead on her as possible.

He knew it would be dangerous to travel alone, but he could see no alternative. When he reached Fort Bridger, maybe he could get Paddy O’Hara and a few men to accompany him through the dangerous Indian country to Fort Laramie. The white soldiers and forts were numerous enough after that for him to travel safely alone. Perhaps he might encounter an overland mail stagecoach that he could ride along with. He planned to catch a riverboat on the Missouri River at Council Bluffs.

He figured it would take about three days to get money and supplies prepared. Until then, he’d have to keep his distance from Chandra, because he found it almost impossible to keep anything from her and that blasted chip implant.

With his plans roughed out, Sean gulped more whiskey. Even as he slipped off into a drunken stupor, he felt the pain of having to deceive Chandra over the next three days. If she learned of his plans, it would lead to further fighting and she might persuade him to abandon the whole thing. He decided he’d put on a sulking front so he could continue to sleep in the spare bedroom.

He didn’t know how he would proceed to the capitol from the Missouri River steamboat. He supposed he’d figure it out as he journeyed east. His thoughts muddled, and he finally fell into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 3

Mommy, what’s wrong? I heard you and Daddy shouting!

Whirling around, Chandra saw her darling six-year-old baby, Riona, her sky-blue eyes glistening with tears. She stood there in her nightgown, clutching a Native American doll that Meadow Lark had given to her when she and her parents had visited Fort Bridger. Meadow Lark, a Shoshone Native American, and her husband, Paddy O’Hara, had become Chandra’s dear friends when she had first plunged into this parallel world in 1850 and had made her way to Fort Bridger.

She ran to Riona, picked her up, and hugged her. It’s all right, darling. She carried the child to her bedroom, tucked her in bed, and crooned her to sleep with lullabies.

Chandra returned to the living room and conversed with Sugar for the next hour before retiring alone to bed. She lay awake, hoping that Sean would come to their bed. Eventually, she drifted off to sleep, her mind whirling with images of Lincoln’s assassination.

***

She awakened early the next morning and was distressed to see the covers undisturbed on Sean’s side of the bed. Oh, Sugar! He really must be angry! He’s never done that before. This was one of those situations where Sugar had no answer, and so she didn’t respond.

Over the next three days, Sean only spoke to Chandra in monotone, one-syllable words. He stayed away all day and ate supper quickly before taking Riona off to the living room, where he played games with her, and then he read her to sleep in her bedroom. Then he’d retire to the spare bedroom after saying a curt good night.

"Two can play at that game! If he wants to play stubborn, then I can too."

Sugar hummed ~~ That isn’t logical. At least one of you should make the effort to resolve this. Since he’s a man, and men don’t do this sort of thing in this time, then it falls to you to reach out. ~~

"Are you kidding? I’m in the right here. If I go crawling to him, then he’ll try to have his way on other unreasonable things in the future."

~~ Oh, come now, Chandra. You’ve been married to him for ten years, and in all that time, he’s rarely demanded anything. ~~

Chandra felt herself relenting. I’ll give it one more day and try approaching him then.

She awakened with a start at seven a.m. on the following morning in the king-sized bed that Sean had built to comfortably accommodate their frames. With their unusual heights, no ready-made beds were available.

Riona stood at the foot of the massive bed, her thumb in her mouth, still clutching her doll. Mommy, why doesn’t Daddy sleep with you anymore?

Before she could respond, she noticed a note pinned on the pillow next to her.

Raising herself on her right elbow, Chandra tore the note from the pin and smoothed it with her left hand. She took in Riona’s sleepy eyes and said, Honey, I think you’re still tired. Why don’t you go back to bed?

The little girl hugged her doll and sleepily trudged back to her bedroom.

Chandra’s bedroom window provided enough light for her to read the note, first with dismay and then mounting anger.

Dearest, I’m so sorry I’ve treated you so shabbily for the past few days. I know you’ve been angry, and I hope this note won’t make you even angrier.

I raided our private emergency stash and took all the gold coins and a few of the diamonds to help me travel. I won’t sell even one diamond unless I run out of cash and need to do so. I took my horse with a few provisions and left early this morning. By the time you read this note, I’ll be several hours ahead of you.

I couldn’t stay here and do nothing, even though you warned me.

Please forgive me and know that I love you and Riona to the ends of the earth, but I have to try! Pray that I succeed so we can all live in the better possible world to come.

I beg you, don’t stop loving me, and wait for my return.

I love you both very much, Sean

Stay here? Chandra growled to herself. In a pig’s eye, I will!

Sugar hummed ~~ Are you addressing me? ~~

Chandra whispered, Don’t be irritating! You know very well that I was talking to myself!

~~ I’ve noticed you doing that more and more. Why is that? ~~

"Because now and then I like to have an intelligent conversation! By the way, why didn’t you awaken me when he pinned the note to his pillow?"

~~ How could I? Lately, you’ve had a standing order for me to be in a sleep state at night so that you and Sean can have privacy. I awakened now only because you seemed to be addressing me, which I see that you weren’t. ~~

"Yes, yes, you’re right. It slipped my mind."

Chandra swore she heard Sugar sniff ~~ It’s so nice not to be blamed for a change! ~~ Tired of wrangling with Sugar, Chandra invoked a command to temporarily silence her.

Chandra hastily rose to assemble the necessities for a trip by horseback. She didn’t think she’d need too much, as she planned to catch Sean by the following day and could then share the provisions he’d loaded onto his horse.

I don’t know what I’ll say to him! she fumed aloud. Somehow, I have to convince him not to do it! If she couldn’t catch him before traveling halfway to Fort Bridger, she decided to continue traveling with him until they got there. Maybe he could be persuaded to give up his quest during the trip. If not, then she would go east with him. And she was determined—one way or another—to make up with him. She couldn’t stand the idea of a rift between them for any length of time.

Chandra finished packing her waterproof duffle bag. Then she grabbed her huge ram’s horn bow, a quiver full of arrows, a hunting knife, a small leather pouch of diamonds, which had been converted from coal by Sugar’s nanobots, and other supplies she deemed necessary for survival on the Oregon Trail. Mrs. Davis intercepted Chandra in time to see her carrying everything downstairs.

Land sakes, Chandra! First, I heard Sean leave about five this morning, and now you’re leaving too. What’s going on? Why didn’t you leave together?

Chandra started to answer, but stopped. Instead, she held up her finger for Mrs. Davis to wait. She then went back upstairs and into Riona’s room, packed some clothes for her sleepy, confused daughter, and carried her