Alternatives

By Nick Zentor

Ren Madkro experienced an accident that sent him to a parallel-alternate reality and left him with a parallel mystery that he had to solve. Lost in another parallel Earth, where humanity, technology, and civilization have evolved quite differently, Madkro had only 3 things going for him to help him survive: his secret knowledge about the alternate technology, the girlfriend he had lost in the original version of Earth, and a mysterious genius who shared secret knowledge with him in the past.
Along with those things, he had nothing more than his instincts and experience with the dangers of cloak and dagger to keep him alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nick Zentor
• Release date: Sep 19, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463547168

Nick Zentor

I was born in another parallel of Earth just a few years before John Kennedy was assassinated and I was transferred to this parallel after a motorcycle accident in late 1982. After 3 years of homelessness, I was inspired to become a science-fiction writer and committed myself to the task once I had managed to find a job and a place to plug in a typewriter. I worked on the job like a good robot for 10 years while writing science-fiction on my free time.After failing to get any books published due to a low demand (every publisher explained how they were selling less books every year), I decided to get into small-publishing and accessed the local copy-outlet to publish my own books. But I didn't have enough money to print more than a handful at a time, and almost no one was interested in buying any of it.It wasn't until 2004, after I managed to save enough money for a new computer, that I began to make some real progress. I was able to do a much better job with book-making and the quality of my books improved. But still they did not sell, so I simply small-published them at my own website online and offered them for free through the website. The website was up until 2008, when I lost my apartment and spent some time homeless again.Aside from writing science-fiction, I started working with 2d computer graphics and animation in late 2004, and got into 3d computer graphics and animation in 2009, after finding another apartment. I've been working with 3d computer graphics, trying to go somewhere there, but I've had problems paying for the software.I wrote "Fool's Errand: Redemption" as the last book in the Temspace-Variant Series in 2015 and turned it into an ebook in 2017. Because I am also a 3d computer graphics artist, I decided to try my hands at my first ebook cover and produced the cover for "Fool's Errand: Redemption" to go with it.

Book preview

Nick Zentor

Tem-Space Variant 5:

Alternatives

Ren Madkro experienced an accident that sent him to a parallel-alternate

reality and left him with a parallel mystery that he had to solve.

Time-date: 10/2005 - 12/2005

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To Jack Vance, Clifford D. Simak, Keith Laumer, A. E. Van Vogt,

 Robert Silverberg, and John Brunner for their inspirational influence.

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First Copyright:  2007 (website)

Second Copyright:  Coldpost-85, 9/2018 (ebook)

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Chapters

1.Knight to King's Base 4.5

2. What Reality is This?

3. The Hisorian Way

4. Fresh Air and Exercise

5. Stranger in a Strange Land

6. Point Man Put to the Test

7. The VR and the Videodrome

8. The Tem-Space Variant Returns

9. The Amazing R-Wing

10. The Lunaside Vacation

11. The Lunaside Hiso-Courts

12. Space, Time, and Parallel Alternate Realities

13. Longray's Plan

14. The Lunar Mines

15. The Maze of Illusions

16. Main Power Tagnet

17. The Secret R-Wing Port

18. The End Game Aftermath

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1. Knight to King's Base 4.5

Madkro was being pursued by the corrupt police.  He had managed to escape them, after they surprised the rebels in their hide-out, but there were more outside and they quickly hopped on his tail.  He was running down an alley, they fired at him, and missed.  He ducked into a doorway, tried the door, it was locked.  He saw another door directly across the alley, and ran for it.  He was wearing heavy armor, and intended to ram it, hoping it would give.

The cops shot at him again, and missed again, as he ran swiftly to the doorway and threw all his weight at it. It gave a little, but not enough.  He stepped back, raised a leg, and gave it a swift kick, then another. It gave and opened.  A bullet hit the stone of the structure just behind his head as he left the alley and entered a dark place.  He felt his way along a short corridor, as his eyes began to adjust.  He reached another doorway, on the right, and turned into it.  As he entered a dark chamber and began to cross it, he heard the cops at the doorway, talking for a second, and then all was quiet.

He knew they were following, as he sited a dim light entering from the cracks around another door, just meters away, across the chamber.  He stepped carefully for it, and reached it before the cops knew where he was.  He tried the door, and it was unlocked.  He opened it quickly, just enough to slip through, and heard a cop shout something just as he entered a dimly lit corridor and closed the door quickly behind him. Without hesitation, he began moving quickly along the corridor, but after just 3 steps, the floor gave way underneath him like some kind of trap-door, and he fell.

He fell several meters, landed on a slanted surface, felt his right ankle twist a bit, with pain, fell over forward, hit his head on something, and was instantly knocked out.

He was in the shadows of a dark corner, at the night-club, as he had been several times in the past. He was surprised to see Lisa. After so many years, in the clutches of the management, playing her off to big-money spenders, who liked to do more than just watch the girls dance.

As she made the rounds, and stopped to see him, he tried to explain something to her, but the noise of the music and the crowd drowned-out his words. She moved away into the mist and he followed her face in the dark, reaching out his arms to catch her, but he could not move. He was trapped in the corner, alone, and Lisa was gone again… 'I didn't want to go, I'm sorry, Lisa,…' his words echoed twice and were lost in the confusion.

When Madkro awoke, some time later, a man was standing over him, shaking him by the arm.

Hey, Mak, wake up, a voice said, with some familiarity, as if it was a friend. He recalled the cops, and suddenly jumped aside, thinking it was them, and went for his gun.

Hold on, Mak, it's me, the friendly voice said, as Madkro drew his gun and pointed it. It's me, Mak. Senzo.

Madkro's eyes focused in a dimly lit chamber that was no longer dark, and standing beside him was a stranger, who acted friendly, and wasn't a cop. But he was wearing unfamiliar clothes, a blue and gray suit with a purple patch over the chest and a few red trimmings.

Who are you? Madkro said, still holding the gun steady, as he carefully began to rise. Before he made it up, his ankle gave way in pain, and he almost fell over again. The stranger who called himself Senzo caught him and steadied him.

Looks like you hurt your ankle, Senzo said. Let me help you back to the med-bay. Let's hope it isn't broken.

I said who are you? Madkro demanded, applying his weight to his left leg, and attempting to stay steady.

Oh no, looks like you hit your head too, Senzo said. We really should get you back to medicare. It's alright, the game is over. We won!

What are you talking about? Madkro said. What game?

Oh, that must've been some fall you took, Senzo said, looking up at the ceiling. They really should have made the landing-pad softer. I'll have to speak to the engineers. There's really no need for this kind of thing, you know. The game isn't supposed to be this dangerous. Tricky and elusive, but not dangerous.

Whoever you are, Madkro said, I don't know what the hell you're talking about. He felt a sharp pain in his head, raised his left hand to it, and almost fell over again. Senzo caught him and insisted upon helping him leave the place. He finally agreed, and put his gun away, realizing that whoever this guy Senzo was, he did seem like a friend.

When they left the structure and he looked around, he couldn't believe his eyes. Wherever he was, it wasn't the slums of the city he had been in before the fall, he was sure of it. It was some kind of high-tek industrial plant or something, possibly a military installation. There were strange machines all about, colorful lights and symbols, and several men in uniforms similar to the one Senzo was wearing. Yes, now that they were in the light, he realized it was a uniform, but everyone was acting too casual for it to be military, or was it?

Senzo, with one of Madkro's arms over his shoulders, helped the injured man across a court with high ceilings and catwalks, and spoke with a few of the others on the way.

It's his ankle, Senzo said, to one then another. I'm taking him to the med-bay. He'll be alright.

When they reached the other side of the court, and headed for a large doorway with a red cross over it, another person in uniform approached them. This one was a girl with short dark hair, a girl who looked almost like Lisa. But she too was wearing the strange clothes, and he didn't understand why.

Mak, she said, with obvious concern. Are you alright?

Senzo stopped at the doorway, before entering, and let Madkro respond.

Uh, I'm not sure, Madkro said, his head almost spinning with confusion.

He hurt his ankle, Senzo said, and hit his head.

He proceeded to help Madkro in through the large doorway, and the girl who resembled Lisa followed. As Senzo helped him into a recliner, in a chamber with 3 recliners and 3 beds, he looked down at himself, and for the first time, noticed what he was wearing.

What the hell is going on? he said, in obvious confusion, as he realized he too was also wearing the same blue and gray uniform with the purple patch and red trimmings. Damn it all, where am I?

Lisa, or whoever the dark-haired girl was, stepped beside him and tried to calm him, with a caring, friendly face.

Lisa, where the heck are we? he demanded, just as a person in a light blue and gray cloak stepped to his other side, and began to examine him.

Calm down, Madkro, the other person said, an oriental female whom he had never seen before, as much as he could remember.

You've injured your head, she said. It might be a concussion. Are you experiencing any pain or dizziness?

Yes, he admitted, a sharp pain every now and then. It comes and goes. Some dizziness, not as much as before. Are you a doctor?

Yes, of course, don't you recall? she said. I'm Doctor Sizamo. You don't remember me?

Remember you? Why should I? I don't remember any of this!

You must remember something, Sizamo said. I distinctly heard you call Lisa by her first name.

Madkro looked at Lisa, as Sizamo touched his forehead with a cool, damp piece of cotton cloth.

You are Lisa? he said, with some surprise.

Of course, Mak, Lisa said. Don't you remember anything?

I remember you, he said, but not like this. The last time I saw you, you were working in a night-club, across town. That was over a month ago. What happened? Lisa, why are you wearing that uniform? Why am I wearing it? What's happened? Are we at war or something?

She looked at him with concern, and then spoke to the doctor.

What's wrong with him, Doc? she said. Why can't he remember anything?

Concussion, Sizamo said. Memory-loss. Hopefully, it's only temporary.  I don't know if CQ can operate without its First Point-man. I'm going to take a look at his ankle now. If it's broken, he's in for at least a subline of convalescence.

Madkro looked at the doctor, then back to Lisa. She held his hand tight and smiled with assurance. He looked into her eyes and thought about the Lisa he had known in the past, recalling the last time he’d spoken to her. He wanted to say how sorry he was, but she didn't seem to mind, as if the past had been forgotten and he had been completely forgiven.

Lisa…, he said, quietly, and she looked back to him, but then he felt a pain in his ankle and let out a yowl, as the doctor made a probe with her hands.

It's not broken, she said, just sprained. You'll have to stay off it for a few days at least. I'll have it wrapped and give you something for the pain.

You're going to be fine, Lisa assured him, with a beautiful smile.

But I don't understand any of this, Madkro insisted. Lisa, I don't remember any of this at all. This is nothing like where I was before I fell through the floor. It's as if… it's as if I'm in an entirely different reality!

The smile went away on her face and was replaced by a look of puzzlement.

Madkro was moved by wheelchair, with his sore ankle wrapped in a bandage, to an apartment, where he had something to eat and rested. Lisa left him shortly, then returned, and took a seat beside the bed he rested on.

Doc says you need to sleep, she said. You might remember more tomorrow. I'll stay in the next room, if you need me.

What happened to that beautiful smile? he said to her, noting how neutral and slightly disconsolate she had become.

Mak, she said, You know I care about you. We all do. But I care about you, not just because you're our First Point-man, but because… because we've known each other for so long, and you're like, like part of my family. I don't understand, and I'm worried. You spoke about being in another reality. Sizamo said you may be delusional. Is it possible you were just dreaming, after you fell and hit your head? You were unconscious, according to Senzo. Tell me you were just dreaming.

I don't know, he said. If I was dreaming, the dream lasted for years and everything was as clear as reality. I don't see how it could have been just a dream. It all seemed so real! But here I am now, and I don't understand. I don't understand where I am!

Alright, she said. Get some shut-eye. Maybe it'll come back to you.

Tell me, he said, before she stepped up. Both you and Senzo said something about winning a game. What game?

The Hiso-Tagnet, she said, at Netwark.

He shook his head from side to side and said, I've never heard of a Hiso-Tagnet or a Netwark. What is it?

The Hiso-Tagnet is the way we change the guard, she said.

At Netwark? he said.

Yes, but not just at Netwark, she said. The same system is used in over 12 cities, all over the world. 6 of them right here, in the USA.

Now there's a familiar term, he said.

What? she said.

USA, he said. I take it, it still stands for the United States of America?

Of course, she said, with that puzzled expression. Mak, are you saying that all you remember is the USA, the nation we're in, and nothing else?

It appears so, he said. I mean, I've never heard of any Netwark. Is it a city? I've heard of a Newark, in Connecticut.

Netwark is in New York, she said.

Ah, another familiar term. New York, he said, with growing interest. Now we're getting somewhere. I was in New York when I took the fall, that much I recall.  But not in Netwark. The city was called New York, just like the state.

New York? she said, with surprise. Mak, that's the old 19th century name, before the Hiso was adapted.

Really? he said, with surprise. The Hiso was adapted when? The 20th century?

Yes, she said. New York became Netwark after the Hiso was adapted in 1940. Of course, it's been upgraded quite a bit in the past 60 years, with all the new technology.

I see, he said, with a slight nod. What exactly is the Hiso?

It's a non-lethal war-game, she explained. A skillful competition which replaced lethal warfare as a means of governmental control, after the leaders of the government and the church agreed that civil war was too dangerous, deadly, and costly.

Interesting, he admitted. So whenever people disagree on the big issues, they challenge each other to a game of Hiso?

Not exactly, she said. The games occur regularly, every 4 to 6 years, depending upon the size of the state. Netwark represents one of the larger states, New York, so it's every 6 years.

He thought it all over for a minute in silence, and Lisa stepped up to leave him. I'll let you rest. Maybe some of what I said will jog your memory.

One more thing, he said, before she left the room. How long have we been, close friends?

Almost 25 years, she said, with a smile, and hesitated shortly, with the thought, then added, I'll be in the next room. Give me a call if you need anything.

After she left, he lay quietly and thought it all over.

If everything she said was true, there was only one explanation he could think of. Somehow, he had been transported from the reality he was previously in, to a parallel, alternate reality. He had read about such a possibility in the past, and had watched video-programs and movies which dealt with such theoretical scenarios. Somehow, the accident he had, when he fell through the floor in that old slum-structure, had caused him to change realities. It sounded impossible, but it was the only explanation he could think of, aside from the possibility that all this was a vivid dream.

If it was just a dream, then if he fell asleep, he might wake up again later, back in that dark slum-structure or in a hospital.  He thought of it with distaste, and looked all about the room he was in. This, he thought, was one of the best dreams he'd ever had, and he didn't want to leave it.  He wanted to stay.  He didn't want to return to that slum, to those fascist police treating him like a hunted animal, to a reality where he was an outlaw on the run and Lisa was an unfortunate concubine to a petty tyrant that had the police in his pocket and millions of dollars to play with. No, he didn't want to go back there. He wanted to stay in this reality, for it was obviously a much better reality than he had ever known, and Lisa was by his side, where he'd always wanted her.

He tried to stay awake, but fatigue overcame him. Sleep could not be avoided, for he was exhausted by the very thought of the hell he had narrowly escaped.

2. What Reality is This?

Madkro had a strange dream, which turned into a bit of a nightmare. He was attacked by a man with dark hair and a moustache, in the midst of a dimly lit countryside, with sparsely scattered trees. The Moon was bright over the trees, and shone on the man as he was attacked. He seemed vaguely familiar, but he was not sure who the man was.

The man pushed him and he fell back, but recovered, and they fought for a bit. Before he could escape the man, they were both struggling at the top of a high cliff, over a precipice. He stumbled at the edge, and they both fell over, still struggling. They fell a long way, and lost each other, just seconds before he plunged into the sea.  He struggled to escape the water, but the waves were rough, as if breaking on a rocky coast, and he feared he would drown.

Suddenly, he awoke with a gasp for air, and a slight sweat, in the room, in the bed where he had fallen asleep earlier. By the light in the window, it was early morning, just around sunrise.

Still here, he said to himself, hopefully. He looked about the room and saw his blue and gray uniform on the chair by the wall where he had left it, along with the gun in the black holster.

As he sat up, he looked back at the holster and took note of the gun. It was different than the gun he had before the fall. Curious about it, he slowly sat up, put his legs over the side, and reached for the holster.  He took it, pulled it away with the belt, and removed the gun.  It was like no gun he'd ever seen.

It reminded him of something from a sci-fi movie, shaped more like a ray-gun than a ballistic pistol. He studied it closely, found a small lever on the side of the firing chamber, with tiny decimal-placed notches, and a positive sign at the forward end and negative sign at the back end, near the handle. Some kind of power-lever, perhaps.

At the back of the firing chamber, at the top of the handle, within easy access of his thumb, were 2 square buttons, one red and one blue. At the bottom of the handle was another button. It was dark gray, the same color as the metal of the gun. There was also a thin line around the bottom of the handle, like a seam separating two pieces. He pressed the gray button and the seam widened, and the bottom of the handle separated from the handle itself.

He turned the gun over, and pulled the piece away from the handle. It opened on a small hinge, and inside, were 2 gray circles. One had a circle on it, the other had a star. On each side of the circles was a small silver of metal, like a large pinhead. He pulled on one with his fore-finger and thumb, and it moved outward from the handle, along with the circle with the star on it. He thought it was some kind of small tubular battery, but once it was removed, he saw that it was a transparent tube with a red liquid in it.

While he was examining this, Lisa stepped into the room.

Ready for breakfast, Mak? she said.

He looked up, seeing it was her, suspended with wonder for the new reality he was a part in.

Breakfast? Coffee and a doughnut sounds good, he said, and attempted a smile.

Alright, continental it is, she agreed, with a nod, and left again.

Minutes later, she returned with a tray and set it on the table by the bed against the wall, and sat down.

Recall anything? she said, and poured some coffee into a cup.

No, but I had a very strange dream, he admitted, and told her about it, as he set the gun down and accepted the cup of coffee.

Sounds like your subconscious, she said, was trying to tell you something. How's the head?

Better, he said. I mean, I haven't had any head-aches since I took that medicine last night. But I still think I'm in some kind of parallel reality.

Parallel reality? she said, with interest.

Yes, I mean, he began to explain, there's a lot about this reality that is the same as the one I was in, such as the USA and New York, but this Hiso thing, and these uniforms and ray-guns… it's like nothing I've ever seen before. That reminds me, I forgot to ask you what time it is.

She looked at her time-piece, and he added, Not the hour. The year.

She looked at him oddly, and said, 2005.

He sighed with some relief and said, Well, at least the time is right.

They ate doughnuts and drank coffee quietly for a minute, and then Madkro looked at the gun again.

What about this thing? I've never seen anything like it. Some kind of ray-gun?

Yes, she said. The red fluid is a fast-acting tranquilizer. The blue is an electro-neutralizer. Both are converted to rays and fired at various targets and tagnets. But hold the questions, Mak. I've got some books and some com-files you can learn everything from. I'll get them after breakfast. CQ has authorized it. They want you to recover as soon as possible. The House is conducting an investigation and wants to ask you some questions, and CQ wants you back on the job.

Sounds serious, he said. What house are you referring to?

The Justice House, she said, with a slight tone of frustration. It appears our predecessors are filing grounds for a mismatch. Nalten claims at least 2 of our tagnets malfunctioned.

What does that mean? he said, in confusion.

It means we won't have official status, she said, until the mess is cleared up. The Republicans will be holding the court for at least another 2 weeks.

The Republicans? he said. Why?

Because whenever a Republican team cries 'foul', she explained, they always get an investigation and a trial. Sorry, Mak. There's no way to avoid it. But I don't think they'll get a rematch.

No? he said, hoping as much.

There's nothing wrong with those tagnets, she said. They're just being sore losers.

Sounds like repugs to me, he agreed. Tell me, do they also blame you for everything that goes wrong?

That's them, alright, she said. They never take the responsibility for anything that goes wrong. How'd you know that? Is your memory coming back?

No, it's another parallel, he said. So, if they're the Republicans, who are we? The Democrats?

Well, that's our party, she said. But our particular team is in the Socialist class. We're supporting more cooperative sharing of the wealth and less capitalist competition. We've got a lot of people on our side. Rem says that capitalism has to be detracted before it destroys everything it created. It has had its time, but now it’s obsolete because progress has gone through the roof. Just take a look at technology and it's obvious he's making a good point.

Rem? he said. Who's Rem?

Zephron Rem is one of our leading socialist philosophers, she said. I'll bring you one of his books. The man's a genius. You can learn a lot from him.

Well, since it seems I'm here to stay, he said, at least for now, I would like to learn everything I can.

Good, she said, and stepped up. I'll go and get those books. See you in about 20 minutes.

Lisa, he said, before she left the room. She stopped and looked back. Thanks for everything. She smiled and left.

He climbed into his wheelchair, rolled over to the window, and looked through the curtains. For the first time, he looked upon the city, from around 4 or 5 levels high. There was a parkway below, with a street winding through it, and many trees scattered about. Across the wide green, perhaps a quarter of a mile away, were city towers, the tallest no higher than 12 levels, and surprisingly enough, a couple of pyramids.

Pyramids in New York? he said to himself. He noted also