Bridge of Memory

By David Hovgaard

The past is gone and the future doesn’t exist. But Albert Sloan has found a way to witness humanities collective destiny. Follow this fast-paced adventure into the distant future as Albert becomes both historian and participant in humanities journey to those distant shores.

• Language: English
• Publisher: David Hovgaard
• Release date: Jun 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463894446

David Hovgaard

I like to tell a good story and I hope you like to read them because there is more to come.

Book preview

Bridge of Memory

Book One

By

David Hovgaard

Copyright 2009

By

David Hovgaard

This book is dedicated to my Wife Maryuri. Her belief in me made all things possible. Because of her love is no longer just a word.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter One

First steps:

Physicists have concluded that travel to the past is impossible. That time and the universe that exist within it can only move forward. Yesterday is memory, reachable only as imperfect recollection, written, visual or audio record and archeological remnant. Whole civilizations have existed reached the pinnacle of that existence only to fall and be lost because they left behind nothing to mark the fact that they had ever been.

We know of Atlantis only because Plato recorded the story of a civilization so advanced that they had ships that moved without sail nine thousand years before the rise of the Hellenistic world but beyond the story we know so little of what it meant to be a citizen of Atlantis or even of Rome. Certainly, some of the ancient’s ideals have endured but what they meant to those that lived them is lost, leaving us only the larger pieces of the mosaic that is human history. The smaller shards that add depth and clarity to the image and represent individual lives have been ground to dust.

This is why I chose to travel to the future. I want to witness and record mankind’s journey through that unknown land so that the history would no longer be just myth and mystery. I calculated that if a man could live into his eighties and he where to come out of his cocoon every two hundred years for a year or two to see the new world, more than ten thousand years would pass in one lifetime. He could witness what was to come and disseminate the past. He could act as a bridge of memory and when his life came to a close, perhaps another could be found to continue what he had started. There was also the possibility that if technological progress continued as it had for the last hundred years, he could update his equipment each time he arose improving his survivability and just maybe extending his life span, who knew then where journeys end.

In order for my experiment to be a success my ark would have to be isolated from large cities and the impact of sprawl that accompanies them. I would have to build underground to avoid erosion. The location would have to be geologically stable and unlikely to be troubled by meteor or comet impacts. My home would need its own power supply, which had to last for at least the first passage of time or longer depending on what I found on waking. Transport would have to be available, so too some form communications.

After considering the various geographic options open to me. I chose for my eternal home, a spot on the Canadian Shield. It was in the most distant expanse of the North West Territories. I also chose a Canadian solicitor to handle my affairs. A firm that I hoped would survive the test of time as it had already, dating from the time of the American Revolution over two hundred years lost. I charged them to hold in trust certain documents and funds and to ensure that my refuge would lay undisturbed by Governmental authorities. I would plan for any other kind of interference.

I purchased the best robotic doctors in the world and two cryogenic storage vessels to house my sleeping body, one for immediate use and the other as a spare. I would make sure that my mechanical caregivers had the necessary redundancy as well as all the control functions. I didn’t want to sleep forever.

I had already turned the inheritance I received from my father into a sum that I believed was more than adequate for building my human time capsule and securing the success of my project. I divided the money into four parts. One fourth to build what some would see as my tomb. A quarter was converted into gold and jewels and all the history I could take to the future as well as select examples of my time. Choosing things that would describe my era was not as easy as I thought it would be. I settled on a Shelby cobra to represent the automobile and several types of computers, textiles and art objects real or reproductions. A film, radio and television archive were essential as was a complete a collection as I could gather of every book then available in print or computer text file. I bought an extensive library of photographs of history’s greatest events. All this and more would be safely tucked away in the vaults. I also managed to procure a few pieces of modern Art from a questionable source. I will not say they were stolen although as to whether or not the people that sold them to me were in fact the true owners I cannot say. I figured in two hundred years it wouldn’t matter much and it was better that these works were with me in my climate controlled underground bunker then someplace where they might get bombed or destroyed by natural disaster. One quarter of what remained would go to pay the firm of Osborne and Fellows for their services on my behalf while my life was suspended and the rest was to be invested very conservatively on my behalf. I expected that if things went well that I would be a very wealthy man when I arose and if things did not go well and I never walked the earth again, I left a will dividing my estate among the descendants of certain individuals that had shown me kindnesses in the years before my departure. Of course, my will would only be opened in the event that I for some reason did not arise one hundred years from the agreed upon date.

Who to trust…

I walked into Osborne and Fellows one morning in July. I was confident that they would take my retainer because I had read that they handled the estates and the bodies of several people that had been preserved at death, so the idea of Cryogenic suspension would not seem so ludicrous to them. Besides, I had a sizable retainer to offer. That alone brought me into the presence of the latest heads of the firm Ryan Osborne and Alicia Fellows.

Mister Sloan, Ryan Osborne said offering his hand, which I took. I sized up this man that I was considering as the trustee of my life. He had a firm uncomplicated handshake and he looked me right in the eye. He seemed honest, but many do. He was in his late forties balding, slightly potbellied but otherwise in good shape. His fiancée and partner Alicia Fellows was the snowy dove among crows that Shakespeare’s Romeo mooned over. A man could love a woman like her, all the days of his life. That is of course if he were not leaving on a journey that would see her dust long before even the first leg was completed. He took her hand as he had her husband’s instead of shaking it, he bowed over it like he was a gentleman of fine breeding and she smiled and love almost took him, only his resolve to see the future and the reality that she was already another man’s prize stopped him in his place. She was mortal he told himself and he was not, at least he wouldn’t be for a time, for all things would, he knew, end. She was also very much in love with the man at her side. He smiled back and took the seat that had been offered by her lover.

How may we be of service to you Mister Sloan she asked taking the seat next to Osborne.

You may call me Albert he told them.

They smiled, Albert then, they both agreed.

I have a special request he told them for which I am prepared to pay handsomely.

He then began to explain his plan to the couple and they listened each asking questions first one then the other as if they both had the same thoughts but by agreement each would have their turn. It was interesting to watch he had never seen two people act so perfectly as one. Even without the paper or the words they were married deeper then human law could make them. He envied them a little for those who travel the long road, had little in common with those left behind. When he finished his explanation, he sat back to let them think about what he had said. They were the first he had told and their reaction would explain much.

Those who were even now building his Ark thought it a repository or a bomb shelter. He let them think what they wanted as long as they completed the work as promised.

Let me get this straight you want us to handle your affairs, protect you from Governmental interference while you lay suspended in your crypt Ryan asked?

Ark Alicia corrected."

Yes, Ark Ryan agreed.

Yes, Mister Osborne I expect you to do the things I have outlined for the retainer that I am offering.

You are going to kill yourself.

Not kill Mister Osborne. I will suspend my life for two hundred years then I will arise and walk the earth again. I will record all that I see and make such modifications I feel necessary to my ark then I will suspend my life again to emerge again and again over the eons. I will be the oldest human being ever to have lived on this planet and I will see all that next ten thousand years has to offer.

You must know that I think that what you are suggesting is insane Osborne told him, nobodies even sure if people can be revived after freezing for such an extended period. You are asking us to help you commit suicide. The Popsicle we act for using the derogatory term that he called them in private probably will never live again despite their fervent hope.

His statement garnered a look of disapproval from her that promised that they would be discussing his lack of decorum in front of clients later.

I will Mister Osborne because I am not ill. My body is not damaged and I have better machines then those that have been used previously. It is possible for a man to be frozen and returned it has been done and it will be done. Besides if I do not return, then what have you lost. The retainer will be yours and my body will be buried and preserved far better than any embalmer could achieve and my power source will last perhaps a thousand years.

(Tomb Raiders)

Peter Joules and Donald Macgregor climbed down the tunnel from the hole they had blasted in the sealed door above. The builders had filled in and re-excavated the entrance to the old mine so that the tunnel was a vertical shaft in order to make it harder for anyone to get to the main complex door at the bottom. The rumors in town were that a recluse lived out here with his vast wealth and he was like to kill anyone who bothered him. Macgregor or Don to his friends believed that it was just a burial chamber, built by some rich guy long since passed to dust. His grandfather had told him that they had sealed this place almost fifty years ago. The cities database showed no power hookups to this crypt or tomb or whatever it was, no juice, meant no active alarms, which meant little or no risk. Don figured that if there had been any battery-operated devices they would have long ago become inoperative and even if there were a generator it would have also stopped working by this time.

He decided that they ought to have a look and see if the stories about a lot of gold and gemstones had any validity. Besides if there were some valuables they weren't doing a dead man any good, so they might as well have them. Donald went first as they lowered themselves down until they reached the entrance to the crypt. Instead of stone door however they found one of solid steel, more like a bank vault then an entrance to a grave except there was no combination dial, time lock or wheel to retract the bolts that held the door fast. It was smooth and shiny in their helmet lights despite being underground half a century. See I told you the stories got be true who would put a door like this down here if there weren't something to protect.

Joules nodded his head, in agreement, this was the mother lode he was sure of it. Neither thief bothered to think about why after fifty years underground it looked like the day it was set. Not even a spider web marred its surface.

They set to work, placing shape charges along the edge and on the center of the door. If everything went well the door would be blown inwards. Don hoped there was nothing of any real value near where it would fall gold and jewels would not be hurt much by this form of entry. He had set the last charge when Joules let out a scream.

What, what is it he asked his friend as he swung over too him?

Joules was holding his flashlight on a skull stuck to the wall.

It just a skull he told his friend, probably left here to scare you. Look no one’s been here since they sealed this place up so it isn't like that is some chump got himself killed trying this. You saw the door above we were the first.

Yea you’re right Joules agreed reluctantly.

You ready then Don asked?

Yea I got them all set Joules replied.

Good let’s blow this door and get the goods and then get out of here Okay Don said.

They climbed back up the ropes and Don set the detonator then he looked at his friend and smiled saying see nothing bad is going to happen.

Turning away he called out ready."

Ready Joules answered.

He keyed the radio-controlled detonator but nothing happened. They waited and waited and then Don climbed down to check. All the detonators were gone. The plastic was there but the caps and primer cord had been removed. This wasn't possible, they were the only ones here and then he saw a face appear in the darkness of the tunnel.

His heart almost stopped at the sight of it and he began to climb up the rope but he was in such a hurry and so uncoordinated from fear that he couldn’t make it back up rope. He could hear Joules crying out in fear above but he couldn’t reach him so he finally gave up and just hung in space. It was then that he became aware that the image was talking to him. It was a man in his late twenties or early thirties and he looked straight ahead at nothing.

I do not know who you are the apparition said, if you are a friend you have come too early, I am still asleep. If you are a thief bent on stealing something from my Arc then I am afraid that you will find out very shortly that you are not alone in the tunnel. My guards will sense you and dispose of you in short order. You can choose to go quietly and survive or you can attempt to fight back and die. My guards are programmed not to kill unless forced to and by the way the door that you are standing in front of is larger than it appears the amount of explosive necessary to breech it would level this complex and destroy everything within. So please go quietly and do not return. If you decide to risk another attempt my guards will kill you. There is only one free pass to a customer.

Don stared at the message and began to laugh. Fuck you he said, fuck you.

He pulled out his gun and scanned around the tunnel with his light. Nothing here, nothing it was just an empty threat but then he thought about the primer cord and how he hadn’t heard Joules in a while then he heard something else. He scanned his light