by Justin Sloan
SHIFTING DIMENSIONS
A MILITARY SCIENCE FICTION ANTHOLOGY
JUSTIN SLOAN L.O. ADDISON GEORGE S. MAHAFFEY JR. KYLE NOE GENTRY RACE JONATHAN YANG
DEDICATION
From Justin
To all of my amazing fans who allowed me to go full-time in this amazing writing gig, and to my family for supporting me through all of this.
From George
To Heston, Christine, and all our loyal readers.
From Kyle
Thank you to the awesome writer community from whom I've learned so much. And a huge thank you to our faithful readers. You inspire us to reach higher.
From Gentry
Cherise Wilson
Caillou Davidson
May You Never Lose Your Sense Of Wonder and Never Wonder Your Common Sense.
From Jonathan
A huge thank you, to you awesome readers! Without you imaginative lovers of stories, none of this would be possible.
From L.O.
To all the writers at Wordforge, for keeping my creative fire ablaze.
Shifting Dimensions Team
Beta Editor / JIT Readers
Tim Bischoff
Becky Young
Kelly O'Donnel
Edward Fray
Holly Lenz
Howard Lowery
If I missed anyone, please let me know!
Editors
Diane Newton
Shifting Dimensions (this book) is a work of fiction.
All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
The Seppukarian Universe (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are Copyright (c) 2017 by Justin Sloan, George S. Mahaffey, and Kyle Noe
Complete Book is Copyright (c) 2017 by Justin Sloan and Elder Tree Press
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of Justin Sloan.
CONTENTS
Foreword
Preface
Introduction
Hangman’s Loop
Escape First, Vengeance Later
Apocalypse Dreams
Retina
Intertwined
Back at the Mountain
What Next?
FOREWORD
By Nick Cole
Space Marines, Purple Drinks in Con Bars...
And Life.
I’ve been thinking a lot about Space Marines lately. But then again... I’ve been thinking about Space Marines for a large part of my life. I’m guessing, like many of us, it all started when we first saw Aliens, the greatest Space Marine film of all time. For a few it might’ve started when we first read Heinlein’s Starship Troopers. Or, however you came to it. Drake. Weber. Ringo. Many, many SciFi Writers have done noble work in the field of Space Marines fiction.
True Story. I once sold a novel at San Diego Comic Con, over Purple Superhero-Themed drinks in a near-the- con-hotel bar, to my former editor at Harper Collins because it was simply a Space Marine Novel. As she put it: “We always buy Space Marines.” Yes, such deeds are done in such seedy locales as Con Hotel Bars. This is the way the steaks are cut. I am not ashamed.
But Why? Why “always buy space marines?” It’s not a subject that ever gets any major awards. Most Space Marine movies open and close relatively quickly. The novels don’t make any high falutin’ NYT teams reviews, or smart and smarmy reader lists. They don’t revolutionize the market, or have standing room only lines outside the movie theatres. Only a few have done that. Aliens being one. And that was a long time ago. In fact the media often treat the military, in its Hollywood Screenwriter SciFi offerings, as the bad guys, often menacing our heroine of the moment. And yet it’s a solid category on Amazon, and publishers buy it. And people read Space Marines like they’re going out of style. Trust me. They read Space Marines big time. For instance... a series I’m writing with Jason Anspach about our version of the Space Marine, its called Legionnaire, is currently my bestselling book. And I can tell you that these genre readers just move right on to the next “space marine” book after they finish ours.
So... why?
Well, for one, it's because the Space Marine story is nothing but fun. In fact you’re going to have some real page turning, seat of your pants fun in this Anthology.
Aliens. Guns. Weirdness. Death. Glory. Battle.
But I'm going to go out on a limb and say it's more than that. I’m going to say it’s all about Cowboys and Indians. Savages and Civilization. And Toughness. Honor, brotherhood, and the contest of superiority. It’s very Us Vs. Them, a story archetype that has been celebrated in all civilizations since the beginning of language.
.
The Space Marine story is simply this. Mankind goes out into the big dark and meets some monsters. Some savage monsters. And then we fight them. And we win. Even if sometimes everyone gets killed. Space Marine stories are often about state-of-the-art weapons on full auto rock and roll. Tentacles and horrible deaths. Loyalty and never quitting when half the squad is wrapped in tentacles and being digested over a thousand years so babies can POP out of their guts. Oh yeah, and the aliens are coming through the trip-sensors and Sarge is holding the line. It’s about simple soldiers going out, often massively under-supported, often the pawns of some government, or corporate entity, to do or die. And often dying.
Us regular folk get that. That’s us a lot of the time in our real day-to-day life. Or at least sometimes. Sometimes you feel surrounded by debts, jobs that go nowhere, and life. Sometimes it’s all you can do to just try hard, count on your friends, and try to just get through the bad days. A lot of us are just into guns, your buddies, and no holds toe-to-toe combat with some very weird monsters. It’s the opposite of the superhero special powers lead. Or the chosen one who will right all the wrongs of apocalyptia with her bow and arrow. Space Marines are about kids going out to get killed so that man can realize his greater stellar destiny. So, some bugs gotta die. It’s the dark side of exploration.
But it’s also about people counting on each other when the monsters come for you. When the hard times come. Because sometimes, in our own lives, the monsters do come for us. And sometimes those monsters are Cancer. Or Death. Divorce. Depression. Loss. Hopelessness.
Sometimes we are surrounded by monsters. Just like those Space Marines. And sometimes, like them, our buddies don’t quit on us. And we won’t quit on them when the monsters come for them. The space marine story for all its violence reminds us... we are all in this together.
So what’s a Space Marine story about? All this stuff I’ve just mentioned. Guns. Aliens. Weirdness. But what it’s also about is in the phrase. Space Marines. It’s also about the plural of Marine. Marines. Togetherness. All of us. Surrounded in the Outer Dark. Surrounded in life sometimes. In it together. Not quitting on one another. Sometimes it’s about that. And that’s okay.
We are all Space Marines now.
Nick Cole, Coauthor of the Bestselling Galaxy’s Edge series
PREFACE
Before we delve into these stories, I wanted to give you a quick note about what we’re doing here. Each of these stories is tied together in a specific way, because we thought it would be interesting, instead of having a bunch of random short stories, to focus on six
that all have the same lead in. That lead in point is that the characters were all on a time ship, part of a fight against an alien invasion in what is known as the Syndicate Wars. They have just gone through the time portal, and now you will see what happens. It should be evident in the stories, to a degree, but I wanted to let you know up front how it works. Fun? We hope so!
Here’s the kicker—each of these authors is going to write a series of books around these characters, or already has. The exception is my story, at the end—Giovanni already appears in the Syndicate Wars (SW) books, a series that serves as a prequel to this anthology and to the spinoff series. BUT it is not required reading. He will continue his story in SW book 5, and I’ll have a spinoff series that’s more out there, more Space Marine/Space Opera with some magic fantasy elements.
For this anthology though, just enjoy the stories for what they are. Be sure to follow these authors on Amazon so you know when their new series come out. Some of them already have amazing books published, so if you like their writing styles you’ll want to check those out too.
Thank you for reading!
Justin Sloan, Coauthor of the Bestselling Reclaiming Honor Series
INTRODUCTION
In the not too distant future, an alien empire called the Syndicate has invaded Earth. After the armies of the world are quickly destroyed, a ragtag resistance comprised of Marines and insurgents rises up to overthrow the invaders and save humanity.
With their superior technology and ability to manipulate time, the Syndicate has so far been able to keep the resistance in check, but the stakes are raised when the insurgents hijack an alien time ship.
When the mechanism that allows for time travel is triggered, however, the resistance fighters find themselves thrust into a maelstrom of infinite time loops and possibilities.
The stories that follow are what they experience when the fabric of time is ripped wide open.
HANGMAN’S LOOP
BY L.O. ADDISON
Kaylin braced her hands against the walls of the tiny escape pod, struggling to choke back her claustrophobia. The pod hurtled forward, heading straight for the swirling smoke of the time-travel portal.
Then it was gone. The Syndicate ship, the escape pod, the portal--all of it. In its place was a black abyss that swallowed all light and matter. Weightlessness consumed her body, but somehow, she could still sense motion tugging her through the nothingness.
The first time she’d experienced this, she’d thought for sure she was dead. But now she knew better--she wasn’t travelling to an afterlife; she was travelling through time. Although there was no way of knowing where or when she’d end up this time. In their desperate escape from the doomed ship, no one had been able to program in a destination.
The weightlessness ended as abruptly as it’d started. Light blinded her, and gravity yanked at her stomach. The abyss vanished, and she materialized back in reality, sitting on a bed in the corner of a room.
No. Not just any room. It was her room, in her old apartment, back at her childhood home in Cleveland. Kaylin hardly dared to breathe, terrified that the slightest movement would send her wheeling back into the abyss of the time-travel portal. She moved only her eyes as she took in her surroundings.
Her tiny bedroom looked exactly the same as it had the last time she’d slept there, before the invasion began and the bombing incinerated her home. She still had the same frayed blue quilt on her bed, the same grey paint on her walls, the same battered dresser in the corner.
Disbelief filled her as she swept her gaze over the colorful posters covering the ceiling above her bed. London, Paris, Berlin, Tokyo, Seoul--all the cities she’d spent her childhood dreaming of visiting. And all of them crushed to ruins by the Syndicate army.
Or maybe not. If the device had taken her to an alternate time frame, maybe none of that had happened yet.
Which left the question: what time had she landed in?
She glanced at the window. The blinds were closed, but hazy grey light crept through the slats, telling of a foggy morning outside. That didn’t help much, considering most mornings were foggy in this city.
Below the window, her beat-up laptop perched on her nightstand, its fan whining as it struggled to keep the old computer cool. A local news website was popped up on the screen, and the entire front page was covered in emergency warnings and pictures of Syndicate ships hovering in the sky over nearby cities.
Kaylin leaned over, peering closer at one of the headlines: “NORTHWEST CLEVELAND RESIDENTS: GOVERNMENT-ISSUED SURVIVAL PACKS AVAILABLE AT ST. MATTHEW’S CHURCH”
A chill flooded her veins. This was it. This was the day the invasion began in Cleveland.
She vividly remembered reading that headline and scrambling to run the four miles to St. Matthew’s, hoping to get her hands on an extra pack of survival materials. At the time, the authorities had said the Syndicate attack on Cleveland wouldn’t begin for at least another two days. They had been accurate in predicting the times of the attacks that had happened the day before, when the invasion first began in other cities. So Kaylin had assumed they’d be able to accurately predict when the invasion would reach Cleveland, and she’d thought it was safe to leave her little brother alone in the apartment.
She’d been wrong. Just as she’d left the church, Syndicate ships had descended from the clouds, dropping deployment pods into the streets. Kaylin had sprinted back toward her home, but it had been too late. The Syndicate had already dropped bombs on the freeway intersection right next to her apartment, obliterating everything within half a mile.
The shockwave had thrown her to the ground, and she’d lain there helplessly in the street, screaming as she watched her apartment complex tumble to the ground. As its ruins were engulfed in flames, a fire had also ignited within her: she wanted to fight. The Syndicate had stolen her brother from her, the most precious thing she had. And she wasn’t going to rest until she got revenge.
She’d been fighting for the Resistance ever since, making it her mission to slaughter as many of the Syndicate invaders as possible.
But none of that had happened yet, at least not in this timeline. Ever since the day she’d lost her brother, she’d desperately wished for a chance to re-do the events of the invasion. And this was it. This was the miracle she’d dreamed of.
She finally had a chance to save her brother’s life.
Kaylin pulled the laptop closer to her, her hands shaking in excitement. The small clock in the corner of the screen said it was eight in the morning, which meant she still had three full hours before the invasion began.
“We’re out of milk.”
Kaylin whirled around to face the door, where the small voice had come from. Jaxon stood there, dressed in pajamas as he sleepily frowned at the bowl of dry cereal in his hands. Kaylin leapt off the bed and ran to her little brother, swooping him up into a desperate hug.
Cereal scattered everywhere as Jaxon dropped the bowl, but Kaylin hardly noticed. She pressed him tightly against her chest, half expecting him to disappear. But he didn’t. His tiny body felt perfectly real and warm and alive.
“Jaxon,” she whispered. She kissed the top of his head and rested her cheek on top of his unruly brown curls. “You’re okay. Oh my God, you’re okay.”
“Kay?” He squirmed in her grasp. “What’s wrong?”
She loosened her desperate grip so she could stare down at him, cupping his cheeks in her hands. He was just as adorable as she remembered, small for a ten-year-old, with freckled skin and somber brown eyes. But his eyes were bigger than normal, wide with fear, and she realized Jaxon had no idea what was going on. He didn’t know that she’d travelled through time to get here, that the Syndicate was going to land in just two hours, that his precious little life was in danger.
And she couldn’t tell him. Jaxon was an incredibly resilient kid--he’d lived through their dad ditching, their mom dying, and Kaylin clumsily taking over his care at only seventeen-years-old. But there was only so
much any kid could handle, and she worried that telling him the truth would make him freeze up in panic. She had to get him away from the apartment and to safety, but she couldn’t let him know why.
“Nothing’s wrong, Jax,” she said, forcing herself to give him a reassuring smile. “I just had a really, really bad nightmare that I lost you. And it kind of freaked me out for a moment.”
“Oh.” He finally returned her hug, squeezing her tightly. “Well, it was just a dream. I’m right here. Not lost at all.”
He spoke in a calm, comforting tone that belonged to someone many times his age. He’d been like that ever since their mom had died three years ago, his mind too old for his body. Kaylin felt a deep pang of guilt as she realized that the coming war would only mature him faster.
She let him out of the embrace, and his forehead crinkled with confusion as he looked her over.
“What’re you wearing? And how’d you get so dirty?”
Kaylin glanced down at her clothes. She was still wearing black cargo pants and a grey t-shirt, the same filthy clothes she’d been wearing when she was first captured by the Syndicate. After sitting in a cell for weeks and then battling through the Syndicate ship, they were caked in grime and sweat. Luckily, the dark color of the pants concealed the enemy blood smeared over them, but it didn’t stop Jaxon from crinkling his nose at the smell.
“Um.” She scrambled to think of a reasonable excuse for her appearance. “I went out early this morning to get some more batteries for the radio. And I didn’t want to be out for too long, so I ran the whole way.”