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Quantum Dawn
Quantum Dawn
Quantum Dawn
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Quantum Dawn

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The biggest secret in creation is hidden in plain sight and must be protected at all costs. Free-will and individualism are merely illusions that help maintain order throughout the universes. The truth is you aren’t even in control of the next thirty seconds of your life.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherBookBaby
Release dateDec 20, 2012
ISBN9781624886171
Quantum Dawn

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    Book preview

    Quantum Dawn - Tyrone E. Keys Jr.

    Group

    PROLOGUE

    Hello! Where am I? Hello! Can anyone hear me?!?! Am I on Cardinal? Looking around the sparsely lit space, Pavo could see that he was in an antiseptic white room filled with what could only be described as medical diagnostic equipment. He was bound at the wrists and ankles with thick padded leather straps. Several tubes snaked into his arms, chest and legs, and he could feel the catheter protruding from his penis.

    The rhythm of the footfalls indicated their creator’s military bearing. As they came to a halt a voice called out. Pavo Zonding/Dr. Zebudair? Pavo strained against the restraints to crane his neck in the direction of the speaker. The voice and footsteps belonged to a severe-looking man clad in a gray uniform that contrasted against the stark whiteness of the room. The man’s eyes were black and empty.

    Pavo, frightened and confused, responded sheepishly, I’m Pavo. Am I on Cardinal?

    The man in gray stared back menacingly, his cold, obsidian eyes penetrating Pavo’s very soul.

    ***

    The most important revelation in the whole of creation had been discovered by the most unlikely of individuals. Pavo Zoding was from a small town filled with small thoughts. He’d left his village decades ago and moved to the big city with just enough money to get him started in that universal dream of making it big. He occupied an insignificant occupation repairing star drive systems for a minor freight carrier ferrying ore and various other necessities of the interstellar black market throughout neighboring star systems. Although he worked on ships that were capable of visiting other galaxies, he’d never left his planet. Pavo had aspired to greater things, but time, in its unforgiving march forward, had always shown an uncaring indifference toward his ambitions. Opportunity, on those rare occasions when it had made its presence known, had always slithered through his fingers like sand. The tighter he tried to clench it the faster it slipped away.

    Goodbye, Melova. He waved at the young female receptionist as he entered his worker ID code into the touch pad. He’d always found her kind and attractive but had never worked up the nerve to offer her anything more than the briefest of timid salutations.

    Hey, Pavo, don’t forget to clock out. She waved her hand, never looking up from her magazine.

    He loved her but knew that she was hardly aware of his existence. Why should she be? He made just enough coin to afford a windowless one-room unit in the workers’ district on the outskirts of New Prospect City. He lived in one of the many tradesmen high rises, a place where crime was rampant and respect for life was nonexistent.

    Although it was markedly safer to catch the Transhub, he decided to walk home today. After all, this was the last time he would get to see this town. As he exited the building he could see the gleaming glass and steel structures of New Prospect City in all their splendor. Those buildings represented a level of wealth and comfort that he had, at last, decided was unattainable for him in this existence. He’d often daydreamed about what his life would have been like had he been able to become betrothed and raise a family in the finery and freedom of New Prospect. As his mind drifted he could see the diffused purple glow of Gandistun, his home world’s twin planet, rise beyond the Sageus Corporate Towers. This was a sight he’d never tired of seeing and the one thing he would truly miss about this life.

    As he made his way home, the neighborhood became increasingly blighted and more dangerous. His stride was purposeful and guarded. He knew his massive build was only an initial deterrent to the numerous ne’er-do-wells lurking in the shadows. But like jackals, the thugs that called the housing districts home traveled in packs and therefore were emboldened far beyond their individual allotment of courage. He’d been in more fights than he cared to remember. His face was a study in physical conflict. But his pace quickened once the sprawling group of massive buildings that made up the workers’ quarters came into view. It was an area where anything bad was possible. He hated this despicable place.

    Pavo could never understand how such a small portion of the society’s population had been able to exist in such luxury and affluence while the overwhelming majority, who supported the minority’s every whim with their labor, lived in abject squalor. Of course he understood the unwritten class prohibitions instituted by the Regency. Although he disagreed vehemently, he knew that the ills of society were as a result of these policies. Unless you were a Regent, you were prevented from owning property, attending certain academies or even associating with certain segments of society. But what he just did not get was why it had to be this way. What would make the wealthy so averse to expanding opportunity to more individuals? Maybe it had to do with the popular belief that there was only so much to go around. And then there was always the lust for more and more power. The Regency would never allow common born to chart their own destiny, especially after so many generations of oppression. The way he saw it, opening up opportunities to all could only serve to create a limitless pie from which everyone with the will to succeed could partake. Fighting the power was useless. These mores had been in place for centuries and were firmly entrenched in the society’s fiber.

    The rich had no reason at all to flout these rules, while the deprived were so filled with generational hopelessness that most of their time was spent thinking of survival. A static acceptance had developed between the factions. This was reinforced by institutional distractions proffered in the form of ceremonies designed to elicit worship and reverence of the Regency. Periodic pamphlets tracked the more salacious aspects in the lives of certain Regents. It gave the poverty-stricken masses something to focus on, wasting time and brain power as they speculated on it, while commemorations of the more reserved and conservative Regents were spaced strategically throughout the calendar in order to act as a relief valve. Workers would be given days off and free parades would display the pomp and pageantry of the Regency in such a way that the people were fooled into the belief that their oppressors were munificent. He knew the royals had no respect for the people. He also thought their insistence on rule by birthright was completely ridiculous. Pavo was sickened every time he heard someone mention the Regency. He was not susceptible to the programming. But everyone else was. So he was trapped.

    While it was true that a modicum of guilt ran through a small group of the high born, it was easily assuaged by the funding of social programs, such as the worker housing districts, designed to further sedate the people. After all, the downtrodden outnumbered the well-heeled, nine to one. The Regency could not afford to have the masses thinking about the bleakness of their situation. But over the years the effectiveness of the system had actually multiplied because of the dumbing down of everything that affected the poor.

    Pavo was a man apart. A confluence of events in his early life had allowed him to have access to educational material not provided to his class. His mother was the domestic for a Regent who kept vacation quarters in their home city. The Regent was kind and allowed Pavo to associate with his own son. As a result, Pavo was introduced to concepts and ways of thinking not shared by the elders in his class, let alone his contemporaries. This created in him the notion that he could break into the miniscule middle class that provided services and products that made the culture function. Why should he be relegated to a life of meaninglessness? Wasn’t his intellect worthy of making a positive impact on society? He had packed up his belongings and invested everything he had in an effort to dig his way out of the cycle of scarcity and desperateness.

    He persisted, and over the course of cycles he eventually gained an audience with a moderately powerful Regent in New Prospect City. His presentation had been accepted and funds had been made ready for him to initiate operations. One detail had to be cared for prior to that. He needed to name his sponsor, that person who could vouch for him and provide him with the final piece of the puzzle that, once completed, would introduce him to a way to fulfill all of his dreams.

    He’d thought the Regent that he met at New Prospect would have been enthusiastic about sponsoring him. Pavo was devastated to learn that he would not receive a sponsorship from this Regent who had once seemed so generous. He became absolutely apoplectic when he discovered that same Regent had appropriated his idea and established it successfully, thereby generating billions in coin.

    He had been inconsolable with a smoldering rage. It burned so hot within him it actually consumed his energy and fatigued him to the point of sleep. That was the first time he’d experienced it. When he awoke he knew an escape from his so-called life might be possible. It was at that point that he found a new reason to live.

    You want some company tonight? a suspiciously masculine female asked, snapping him back to reality.

    No thanks. He kept his head down as he made his way through a throng of adolescents who were chewing Tagil, too intoxicated by the cosmoceutical leaf’s hallucinogenic effects to pose a serious threat to anyone. Still, they were loud and boorish in their taunts as he pushed by them.

    As he crossed the street to get to his building he noticed a loud and violent argument just in front of the entrance. This was standard fare but getting involved in it was not a good idea. A twinge of frustration rose within him as he realized he would have to wait out this nonsense. A crowd had started to gather in front of the two combatants and had eagerly started to incite them. The massive amount of ignorance was something Pavo vehemently disdained. It was oppressively unbearable. There were so many larger things in this experience – in this universe. After a few minutes he was relieved to see one of the men pull a long blade from his satchel and begin to chase his opponent down the damp and dirty street. The crowd, worked up by blood lust and the promise of bloodletting, followed enthusiastically.

    Elevator’s out, Pav! yelled a grubby rotund fellow from behind a grimy desk.

    Thanks, Elin. Pavo readied himself for the climb up to the 12th floor. It wasn’t so much the physical aspect of the task as it was the filth and wretchedness that dwelled within the stairwell. Running all the way up was the best method of avoiding trouble and the unspeakable evils that people were capable of inflicting on themselves and others. As he opened the door leading to the stairs his senses were assaulted. The vilest curses were hurled with an intensity that only the truly bitter and hate-filled could utter. Try as Pavo might, he could not avoid the olfactory attack of sex and body wastes. The smell was so thick it manifested itself as a revolting taste in the back of his throat. He took a deep breath and bolted. Although he moved up the stairs swiftly, he could still feel the slight adhesive tug of the sticky concrete floor pulling at the soles of his boots. It was as if the very force of the iniquity that occupied the stairwell was attempting to pull him in. As he rounded the landing of the 11th floor he noticed in his periphery three people engaged in a sex act. He’d witnessed this enough times to know that this session at least seemed consensual. His ears were again stricken, this time with the animalistic sounds of the trio. He ignored them and sprinted to the next floor. As he emerged into the 12th floor hallway he noticed that the flickering lights gave the corridor a depressing otherworldly feel. The lack of proper illumination was nothing new, but this was the first time he’d noticed its effect on his mood. No matter, he would soon put all of this behind him.

    Hey, Mistah – you wanna get some feel goods? The voice came from the darkness behind Pavo.

    No thanks, he said as he turned to face the would-be salesman. I’ve found a better way to alter my state.

    Not like this, Mistah. What chu say? The teen opened his hand to reveal an assortment of brightly colored leaves.

    Pavo felt sympathy for this young one. He understood his fate. His life would be hard and very brief. Go home, go to sleep and dream, was the advice he offered the delinquent.

    You crazy, Mistah! The boy melted back into the darkness, his vanishing footfalls the only indication that he was leaving.

    Pavo turned from the perplexed youth and placed his eyes in front of the retina scanner mounted on his door. Locking mechanisms whirred and clanked then granted entrance to his high rise hovel.

    The place was sparse and dingy. A cot was positioned in the middle of the floor. A reclining chair that was far past its prime, a lamp and a small desk were the only other pieces of furniture present. The bare essentials of life were crammed into one room. A toilet and sink combination abutted a shower stall that was so narrow the user could not even turn around in it. Twenty feet opposite that was a small cooking surface. Another sink, this one plagued with a persistent leak, sat next to an old model cooling unit, big enough to hold no more than a leftover meal and container of water. The most plentiful and prominent items present were books. They lined the back wall of the unit. Pavo shunned the computerized mini terminals capable of storing whole libraries. Actual books were his preference. They had character and personality. These were his only real possessions of any merit and he treasured them. He wondered who, if anyone, would want them after he’d gone.

    As he sat down on the bed he thought about his life in this world and how happy he would be to conclude it. He’d considered taking the final step for years. Now was the time. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small bottle. Smiling as he opened it, he still could not believe the gift fate had bestowed upon him. He’d discovered something that would change everything everywhere and he knew it. He had always known that he was meant for something great.

    This is it, he said as he took one of the pills from the bottle and swallowed it, knowing full well that he would not be back this way again.

    In all of creation it was Pavo, the star ship mechanic, who had found that the adhesive nature of one’s reality could in fact be overcome and escaped. Pavo had discovered that dreams were not random collections of the day’s events cobbled haphazardly together by the unconscious mind. In fact, dreams, at a minimum, were windows into other realities. Through years of meticulous experimentation, Pavo had definitively proven, through experience, that when he dreamt he was actually experiencing a portion of the life of one of his alternate selves in another reality. At first he could only experience the events that his alternate actually participated in or orchestrated. While he was a part of the alternate’s subconscious mind, Pavo’s psyche was, at first, subordinate.

    Then he found that, with focus, he could supplant the very consciousness of any of his alternates and control their body as if it were his own. But most important, he established that once he visited a certain reality that contained an alternate version of him, he could, at will, return to that reality at a time of his choosing and stay there for as long as he desired. He could literally choose another reality in which to live as simply and easily as the occupants of New Prospect City selected which of their many transports to drive. Despite his circumstances, Pavo was extremely educated in the physical sciences. He was familiar with the theories regarding the existence of multiple realities. He also knew that none of them had ever been scientifically validated. The person who could not only make the case for the actual existence of alternate realities but also provide a method for traveling between them would be the wealthiest and most powerful person in the universe. But he knew that his lack of social status and education would make it impossible to gain an audience with anyone of consequence in these matters in his home world. He would be considered a lunatic if he even mentioned it. So, on one of his trans-realistic sojourns, he’d established contact with the beings of another reality, a reality that he thought would take him seriously.

    Pavo had selected a reality where he could start his existence all over again. His alternate in that universe was Dr. Yevlan Zebudair who lived on the planet Cardinal. Dr. Zebudair was a semi-prominent physician working for the government of that world. The doctor’s station in life afforded him influence and a large degree of credibility. That, combined with the fact that Cardinal was renowned,

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