The Boy from a Parallel Universe

By Wayne Saber

In 1573 Edward is digging graves for Black Death victims when he unknowingly enters an unstable wormhole created by scientists in London in the year 2050. But in Edward's world the queen in 1573 is Jane and not Elizabeth. One scientist, Laura Rebas, understands that Edward has not travelled in time from the past, but has travelled from a parallel universe in which the present is similar to but not identical to our past. Zebra, who monitors wormhole creation from a universe in which people have learned to perceive and move about in four spatial dimensions, has observed Edward's travel between parallel universes. He tells Edward that the creators of the wormhole do not understand the dangers that it poses and that the wormhole that he traveled through must be destroyed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wayne Saber
• Release date: Dec 19, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311220448

Wayne Saber

Wayne Saber was born in London, England in 1986, where he lived until moving to Canterbury in 2009. "The Boy and the Hidden Tunnel" is Wayne's first novel. Although all of the characters and events in the novel are fictional, many ideas in the novel are based on Wayne's own life experiences. He was in care as a child, had difficulty in school because of undiagnosed dyslexia, and was sent to a boarding school with a farm. He leaves to your imagination which other fictional incidents in the novel were inspired by real events. Wayne hopes you enjoy reading it.

Book preview

The Boy from a

Parallel Universe

by

Wayne Saber

Copyright © 2015 Wayne Saber

www.waynesaber.com

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events

in this book are entirely fictional.

Cover extracted from London Bridge (1616)

by Claes Van Visscher

Table of Contents

Chapter 1. Project Wormhole

Chapter 2. Laura Rebas

Chapter 3. Tom Rebas

Chapter 4. Planning the rescue

Chapter 5. The rescue

Chapter 6. Zebra

Chapter 7. Laura's mission

Chapter 8. Zebra's world

Chapter 9. Edward's world

Chapter 10. The apothecary

Chapter 11. Queen Jane

Chapter 12. Electricity

Chapter 13. Exposing a secret

Chapter 14. A welcome visitor

Chapter 15. Pera

Chapter 16. If you don't succeed at first

Chapter 17. An unwelcome visitor

Chapter 18. Epilogue

Project Wormhole

We're going to do a night run, young Edward. The moon is full and we'll be able to find our way. We cannot wait until the morrow. There are too many bodies to bury, Mr. Thompson said solemnly.

Yes, sir, Edward replied. Edward was apprenticed to Mr. Thompson and both had a very dangerous job. It's not that anyone would want to harm them or that they were likely to fall and injure themselves or to be trampled by horses. Their job was to pick up victims of the Black Death and to bury them, and many in that job would soon need burying themselves. Mr. Thompson, although his normal profession was cabinet making, was pressed into this service by the local authorities and Edward, as his apprentice, had no choice but to do as his master ordered.

They climbed onto a flat cart pulled by a single horse and drove through a route that had been assigned to them. They rode along Drury Lane to Fleet Street, then up Chancery Lane, along Holborn, down Fetter Lane and back to Fleet Street. They passed St. Paul's Cathedral and Edward thought about the great spire that he had seen there as a child but that was later destroyed by lightning. As they rode through the dark, winding, cobblestone streets of London they saw bodies left in the street to rot. Many houses had red crosses painted on their doors, indicating that a plague victim was inside. Some had baskets hanging from their windows so that charitable persons could contribute food to those who were forced to stay inside. The Watchmen along the route recognized the cart and ordered their assistants to load the bodies of the victims that had perished that day onto the cart. Edward and Mr. Thompson covered their noses and mouths with their kerchiefs. The odor of death was everywhere. With 12 bodies on the cart behind them, they headed to the burial pits at Stockwell Wood, across the Thames.

Other people recognized the sound of the cart and called to them as they drove by: Stop here, please! We have bodies to be buried. They could not manage more bodies and they had to ignore those desperate pleas along the way as they traveled on Thames Street to London Bridge. They were stopped at the entrance to the bridge by a Watchman who questioned whether they had permission to cross the bridge with a dead-cart. Mr. Thompson assured him that they did and the Watchman let them pass, after warning them to keep as far as possible from the houses that lined the bridge.

At the southern end of the bridge, Edward tried not to look at the severed heads of criminals displayed on spikes. He was seeing enough death in the streets of London without taking in that gruesome sight. They continued past Southwark Cathedral, along country lanes. Only the screeching of owls interrupted the silence of the night. As they approached the burial pits, the smell of a thick fog added to the smell of death that surrounded them. The pits were full and before they could unload their terrible cargo they had to dig a new pit. They had brought shovels and they found a good spot where they started to dig a hole, reaching near the required 20-foot depth after several hours. At this point, Edward began to feel feverish. Beads of sweat were pouring down his face.

Are you okay young Edward, Mr. Thompson asked gently.

I'm fine, Edward replied. Mr. Thompson had been kind to him and he didn't want to let him down when he was most needed. Edward knew what his fever meant, but there was nothing he could do about it. He tried to ignore his illness and kept digging. With fog covering the pit, he and Mr. Thompson could not see each other. Soon Edward could no longer stand up and he fell unconscious into the pit.

When he regained consciousness it was totally dark, but soon afterwards he saw light reflected from the walls of what seemed to be a tunnel. He could make out a large glass window at the far end of the tunnel, but he couldn't see through the glass. He started to walk towards the window.

All this was far removed from anything that he had seen or even imagined before. He wondered if this was some sort of nightmare brought on by the fever or if he had succumbed to the plague and was no longer alive. He was terrified. He couldn't imagine where he could be. Could he have gone to heaven? But this didn't look like the heaven that he had imagined. Could it be hell? He tried to think of what he might have done that was so bad that he would be condemned to hell. He had honored his father and mother. He had a good relationship with his priest and had studied Latin conscientiously in grammar school. He did swear now and then, but would that be enough to send him to hell? Or maybe this was purgatory and his final fate was yet to be determined. Edward's fear increased when he heard a loud voice that seemed to come out of nowhere.

Who in hell are you? the voice said. The combination of illness and terror was too much for Edward and he again lost consciousness and collapsed on the floor.

On the other side of the glass window, three men sat at a control panel. The panel was a large touch screen, 3 meters wide and 50 cm deep. The back of the panel was slanted upward 30 degrees from the horizontal. It had sections labeled Negative Energy Injection, Stabilizer Control, Mouth Dimensions and Time to Collapse. Near the top of the panel, at the horizontal center, the words Wormhole Inactive appeared in large green letters. One of the operators tapped the word Director on a phone list at the right side of the panel.

Rufus, there's someone in the tunnel.

Who?

Not one of us. A stranger. He looks like a boy of 16, sandy hair, about 5 feet 9 inches tall and quite thin. He's very dirty and his clothing is rather odd—a long vest, a loose shirt and pants and boots. I asked him over the speaker who he was but he didn't reply. He looks dazed.

I assume the wormhole is inactive.

Yes, Rufus. We completed a test run a few minutes ago.

How could this boy have bypassed our security and gotten into the tunnel?

I don't know. Maybe he's been living in the tunnels below the tube station and found some sort of passageway that he was able to squeeze through.

Did you see where he entered the tunnel?

No, he was walking towards our control room from the far end when we first spotted him.

Send security.

Already done, Rufus. They've opened the sliding door to the right of the control room and two guards are approaching him now, but he's lying on the floor. He seems to have passed out.

Call the doc and have security bring a stretcher.

Already done, Rufus.

The sliding door opened again and a third guard, carrying a stretcher, approached Edward. They waited about three minutes until the doctor arrived.

Bloody hell, doc. The kid smells of dead rats. He must really have been living in the tunnels down here.

Well, we'd better put on face masks and gloves before we touch him. We don't know what kind of disease he might have, the doctor said, gesturing to the control room that these items were needed.

The masks and gloves arrived a few minutes later and the doctor and guards put them on. The doctor examined Edward briefly and told the guards to put him on the stretcher and get him cleaned up before taking him to the first aid room.

When Edward awoke he found himself lying on a bed softer than any he had ever experienced. Things looked fuzzy at first. He could see that he was in a brightly lit room. The walls were white as were all of his bedclothes. He was dressed in some sort of white gown. The thought occurred to him that he had indeed died and gone to heaven.

As his eyes began to focus, he could see three men and a woman standing nearby. One of the men was in his sixties, of medium build and carrying a small black case. The other two men were younger, one heavyset and one slimmer. Their manner of dress was unfamiliar to him and their speech seemed quite strange, yet somewhat understandable. The older man was speaking to the others. Either they didn't notice that Edward was awake or they ignored this and continued to talk about him as if he wasn't there.

It's a bacterial infection. I've given him an antibiotic and he should be over it in no time. But I'm going to need to inoculate everyone who's been in contact with him.

Is that really necessary, doctor? the heavyset man asked skeptically.

Yes, I'm afraid it is, the doctor replied. This bacterium, Yersinia pestis, is highly contagious. I don't understand how someone could be infected with it today. We haven't seen a case here in many years. Where did this boy come from?"

He may have been living in the tunnels under the tube station.

Could there be infected rats still down there? the doctor asked, not really expecting an answer.

Just how bad is this illness? the slimmer man asked.

It's very bad. It was called the Black Death in the Middle Ages, the doctor replied, adding forcefully: I have to report this to the health authorities. They have to determine where this boy came from and with whom he's been in contact. And if there's a possibility of infected rats in these tunnels, we have to call in people to eliminate them.

Thank you, doctor, the heavyset man said, but you know that you cannot disclose anything that you see here. We'll all take the inoculations and if any reporting is necessary, we'll take care of it ourselves.

Okay, the doctor said, but I don't feel very comfortable about this. If this gets out of your laboratory it will be a major disaster. I hope you're not doing biological warfare down here.

No, of course not, the heavyset man said. You know this is a physics laboratory. There is no biological component.

Look, he's awake, the woman said.

The doctor left the room and the heavyset man turned to Edward and began to question him

Reviews for The Boy from a Parallel Universe

[Carol Christofferson · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Very thought stimulating! Perhaps closer to the truth of consciousness than realized currently.