ruBracks, Nazis, the Death of the Universe & Everything (The Parallel-Multiverse Book 1)

by Ward Wagher

  Mrs. Miller and Mrs. Wallace looked at each other, then nodded. The five then turned and marched out of the paladin's office and down the hall to the doorway of the conference room. Cleo looked confused.

  “Clearly, they know the way,” Scott muttered. He pointed to the assistant. “First, the security chief, then refreshments. I somehow suspect my morning agenda has been irretrievably destroyed.”

  “Allow me to introduce my security chief, Mr. David Simpson,” the paladin said.

  “We are already familiar with Mr. Simpson,” Mrs. Miller said. “Your competence and successes are widely known.”

  The security chief looked back and forth between the paladin and the women.

  “Let me take you off the hook, David,” Scott said. “These ladies will introduce themselves to you individually. Collectively they call themselves ruBracks, whatever that means.”

  Simpson paled. “Scott, I believe you are in danger.”

  “You mean you know about ruBracks?”

  “They are mythical creatures employed in bedtime fables to frighten children.”

  Mrs. Willow stepped over to Simpson, who attempted to back up further, but was already against the wall. “Do I look like a myth?” she asked through clenched teeth.

  Simpson now looked frightened. The paladin took a step back. He took a deep breath and clapped his hands together.

  “Yes, well, suppose we get started.” He looked at the women. “I would like you to take it from the top. Let's sit around this end of the table.”

  Once the group gathered around the table, the paladin spoke. “Do you have a presentation chip?”

  Mrs. Miller began speaking. “Not necessary.”

  She waved an arm. A three-dimensional simulacrum appeared over the center of the table. It showed a series of overlapping star fields.

  “We are ruBracks. We suggest that we are not mythological, such as the conclusion your security chief jumped to. We are created beings and also have need for the Redeemer. We are not human, though we resemble humans. We are long-lived, as you measure time. However, we measure our lives in meta-time.”

  “What does that mean?” Scott asked.

  “ruBracks have the ability to stand outside of the stream of time and observe it. We also inject ourselves into a multitude of universes to influence events.”

  The paladin looked thoughtful as he stared at Mrs. Marsden. “So… in what way did you influence Pop? And me?”

  “Did the creator put you here for a purpose?” she responded.

  He snorted. “I think you could say so, yes. You maneuvered me into taking the paladin's sword?”

  Mrs. Marsden shook her head. “No. We are not able to achieve gross changes in the flow of time...” she paused. “Most of the time. Your abduction in 2007 by the Woogies was already… if I might use one of your memorable expressions, locked in. We merely facilitated the interaction between you and your father to maximize the potential.”

  Scott grew still. “In other words, you provoked the most bitter fights that Pop and I ever had. Is that what you are saying?”

  “There was a weakness in the flow of time surrounding Arthur Wilton's death. We worked to ensure you accepted the challenge of the Palatinate.”

  “In other words, I might have walked away from it? This is all very interesting, but a little hard to believe.”

  “Have you ever wondered what drove you to accept your position, Paladin?”

  Scott gazed into the distance, then raised his eyebrows. “Pop was surprised when I accepted it. He said that he expected me to cause a scene and embarrass everyone.”

  Mrs. Marsden said. “In a parallel universe, you refused to accept the sword.”

  “And what happened?” Scott asked.

  “That is something you are not allowed to know.”

  “And why is that?”

  “In some ways, the fabric of time is fragile. It ultimately flows according to the Maker's design, but the direct effect of the fall of man was entropy. We are charged with keeping the multiple universes tidy.”

  “And if this is such an important meeting,” Simpson interrupted, “why send a group of… old ladies, to negotiate with the paladin?”

  “You were going to say, old bags, I believe,” Mrs. Franks said. She seemed amused. “We are often called that. It is simply this, all ruBracks look like us. We look human, right? But, we all look like this.”

  Simpson shook his head and rolled his eyes.

  “Perhaps we should move on to the purpose of the meeting,” Mrs. Wallace said.

  “Yes, let's.” the paladin said.

  “We have been forced to deal with a serious disruption in the fabric of time and space caused by an experiment conducted by one of your scientists.”

  The paladin began rubbing his chin, then made a come-on motion with his hand.

  “Edgar Forsenn in the Urbana Quantum Physics Laboratory created a device which was intended to allow a view into other epochs. He impacted thousands of parallel universes in an unintended fashion. In a most destructive fashion.”

  “We have a leak,” Simpson said. “Nobody is supposed to know about that.”

  “It hasn't leaked, David,” the paladin said.

  “You actually believe these old… ladies?”

  “He brought Bach from a parallel universe,” Scott said.

  “And multiply that by thousands of times and you can begin to understand the scale of the catastrophe Mr. Forsenn created,” Mrs. Willow said. “We have been very busy trying to clean up the mess.”

  “And we have not succeeded,” Mrs. Miller said.

  “So, why are you talking to me, then?” Scott asked. “Why not speak to Edgar. He is in forced retirement, and I'm sure would jump at the chance to do something like this.”

  “We are sure he would. However, we are subject to human authority during our interactions with mankind. You, Paladin, have authority over Edgar Forsenn and over the laboratory. We need your permission. Secondly, we believe you can ensure he is properly managed.”

  “If anybody properly manages Edgar Forsenn, it would be the first time,” Simpson said.

  “David, please,” Scott said.

  Simpson colored, and snapped his mouth shut.

  Scott looked around the room. “There's more, isn't there?”

  “We wish to restore some measure of stability to the multiple parallel universes.”

  “For you to reveal yourselves in such a way, there must be more. I sort of think you don’t go around announcing yourselves to mankind. I am correct, am I not?”

  The five ruBracks looked at each other. “You are correct,” Mrs. Miller said.

  “Okay, I'm waiting.”

  “There is a harmonic in the time wave that Edgar Forsenn's device set into motion. If a group of the waves reach sufficient amplitude and strength, it could cause a universe or a group of them to cease.”

  “As in blowing up or something?” Scott asked.

  “Nothing so dramatic. They would just cease to exist.”

  “And the people?”

  “Pffft,” Mrs. Franks said, with a flick of her hand.

  “And it could happen to us here?”

  The five ruBracks nodded in unison. Scott decided they somewhat resembled Woogies in their mannerisms. He stood up and walked towards the floor to ceiling windows. He stopped five paces away, not liking the heights. He finally nodded and turned back to his guests.

  “I assume there is some risk associated with this project?”

  “Correct,” Mrs. Marsden said. “It is possible we could destroy the fabric of time and space along with all the parallel universes if the procedure is done incorrectly. But we believe the Maker would not allow that.”

  “I don't believe the Maker would allow that either,” Scott said. “Very well. I will give my permission given two conditions.”

  “What would that be?” Mrs. Miller growled. She was clearly unhappy and Scott took a half step back.

  “First of
all, I would like you to return Bach to his home universe. The poor man is utterly lost here. Along with anyone else who has been displaced, if that is possible.”

  “It is not possible to return people to their original universe,” Mrs. Wallace said.

  “Then you'd better figure out a way to do so,” Scott said softly.

  “And what is your second condition?” Mrs. Miller asked.

  “I would like to discover what happened to my family back in 2007. I have been unable to discover any trace of them.”

  “That is not allowed,” Mrs. Willow snapped. “It is completely illegal and unethical for ruBracks to show the span of history to humans.”

  Scott shrugged. “I guess we don't have a deal, then. Thanks for stopping by.”

  The paladin rose to his feet and walked from the room. The ruBracks looked at each other. Mrs. Wallace spoke first. “I suppose we are going to have to negotiate.”

  “This is so distasteful,” Mrs. Willow said.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Edgar Forsenn considered himself a prisoner. Not that he was locked up, or held against his will. He was simply unable to work in his desired profession. Oh, he still received his payroll voucher from the Urbana Quantum Physics Laboratory – even though the lab had been closed by the paladin two years before. He was not under house arrest. He could freely travel anywhere in the Upper Midwest Palatinate. But, he was not allowed to work.

  His personal comp-term still worked for him, and he could still access the global net. But all of his previous research was unavailable. He seemed to have acquired a cybernetic nanny, which watched his activities and politely refused access to what was now considered sensitive areas. It was frustrating and unacceptable. He had accomplished the greatest discovery of the age and was not able to follow up on his work.

  At one point, he decided that he would find a new home, and made arrangements to travel to Tau Ceti and the planet Festalborg. The customs officers turned him back when he tried to leave the Palatinate. The people kindly returned him to his home in Urbana where he resumed his stewing. He had no one to lash out at – his wife had left him shortly after the closure of the lab. She had taken up residence with her parents. While she was willing to speak to him, and occasionally share a meal, she refused to participate in what she considered his vendetta against the paladin. Forsenn felt backed into a corner, and he was unable to navigate a successful path to a solution.

  He still met periodically with his coworkers. Quintan and Sally Rogers often scheduled lunches for the former members of the laboratory team. Forsenn enjoyed his colleagues, although he was sure they were blaming him behind their impassive faces. Indeed, he was to blame, if he was honest with himself. He had constructed the experiment and then run it when they had told him to wait. In a fit of impatience, he had gone ahead with the experiment and now lived with the grisly results. He had not only dragged an innocent man from his time and universe but had also impacted numerous other universes in his misbegotten time-travel experiment.

  At least the Rogers had not brought the time traveler to any of their lunches. During the frantic days of trying to isolate the cause of the problem, Forsenn had often looked into the haunted eyes of the man who, by then, knew he would never see home again, not to mention his beloved wife and children. He didn’t know how he would ever get over the guilt.

  His musings on this day were interrupted by his door signal. He opened the door to the willowy blond woman that was Sally Rogers. He looked past her to where a groundcar was parked at the curb. Quintan Rogers sat at the controls and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

  “We are needed at the lab, Edgar,” Sally said without preamble.

  “Hello,” Forsenn said. “I am glad to see you, Sally. How are you? Nice of you to stop by.”

  Her mouth twitched. “Sorry about the abrupt manner. But, Arnold called and is highly upset about something. He wants us all at the lab.”

  Arnold Gingery was the director of the lab and had been sitting at home collecting his stipend just like the other scientists.

  Forsenn rolled his eyes. “Very well. Let me get a jacket. It is starting to get cold again.”

  As he walked down the path in front of his home he looked over at Sally. “Did you get anything out of Arnie as to why he is so upset?”

  “I did not, and that is puzzling. Arnold is usually more voluble when we speak. But there is definitely something urgent to attend to.”

  “Then let us not keep the director waiting,” Forsenn said, the sarcasm was clear in his voice.

  “Tell me, Ed, did you have anything better to do?”

  Forsenn snorted. “Probably as much as you do.”

  “Right.”

  They reached the car and Sally opened the front door to climb in. Edgar opened the back door and bent over to slide into the seat. He stopped when he saw who was sitting on the other side. He sighed, then forced himself into the car.

  “Hallo, Edgar,” Johann Bach said.

  Forsenn nodded. “Johann,” he grunted.

  “It seems we have been summoned,” he said in his German accent.

  Sally twisted around in her seat to look at the pair in the back. “Arnold said he needed Johann, too.”

  “I wonder what is going on,” Quintan said as he pulled away from the curb.

  “I suppose we will find out soon enough,” Forsenn said. He looked over at the German. “How have you been occupying yourself, lately, Johann?”

  Bach shrugged. “I am a man out of time, as you well know. But I believe God put me here for a reason. For now, I am writing music. Quintan has introduced me to tools that make the process much easier and quicker.”

  “He writes the most amazing music you have ever heard,” Sally said. “I did some research. Apparently, at one time, he was well known.”

  The German shook his head. “It is nothing. Just something to keep me occupied. I also go for walks in the country. Back home I used to walk everywhere. It is relaxing and I can think about my music.”

  Quintan Rogers carefully guided the groundcar along the streets of Urbana. The fall semester had begun at The Paladin's College and the small-town population was bolstered by the students. While the residents paid attention to the traffic and generally stayed on the sidewalks, the students were apt to pop up anywhere. Quintan did not want to complete the day by bunting a pedestrian into the town’s carefully manicured shrubbery.

  The grounds surrounding the Urbana Quantum Physics Laboratory were as well kept as the rest of the town, but the building itself seemed subtly neglected. The paladin had shut it down two years previously following Forsenn’s unfortunate experiment. The four occupants of the groundcar studied the lab as they drove up to the parking lot. There was one other groundcar in the lot. An aircar was parked on the lot as well.

  “Well, here we are,” Quintan said, perhaps unnecessarily. “That is Arnold’s groundcar.”

  “No time like the present, I guess,” Forsenn said as he climbed out.

  He didn’t notice the pained expression on Johann’s face. Sally rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  The four walked to the entrance. Arnold Gingery, the director of the lab opened the door for them.

  “I am sorry, but your keycards have not been reactivated. However, come on in.”

  “What is going on, Arnold?” Sally asked.

  “We will all find out shortly, I hope. We are meeting in the large conference room.”

  The hallways were brightly lit and the floors polished. The shushing sound of the environmental systems swept the air with a warm drift, in contrast to the chilly fall day outside. Forsenn surreptitiously tried to glance through the windows of the doors they passed. The rooms were all dark. Gingery led them into the large conference room, which the two years made it to seem both familiar and strange.

  More familiar was the man waiting in the room.

  “You, of course, know the paladin,” Gingery said.

  The three scientists shoo
k Baughman’s hand and murmured, “Paladin.”

  The paladin then reached to shake the German’s hand. “Herr Bach. Good to see you again.”

  “Thank you, Herr Paladin,” he replied. “I trust you are well. I pray for you.”

  The paladin's mouth quirked slightly. “That is probably why I survive at all – people praying for me.”

  “How else can we survive, but for God’s help?”

  Baughman nodded and looked around the room. “Okay. We can get started. Grab a chair, people. We have a lot of ground to cover today.”

  Everyone was seated and looked at the paladin expectantly. He took a moment to study everyone at the table.

  “I apologize for not providing more information on this meeting. It is, of course, related to Edgar’s research that I shut down two years ago. At the time, I was convinced it was too dangerous to be allowed to continue.”

  “I have recently become aware of other factors that, first of all, confirmed my original decision. However, this new information also has led me to reverse that decision.”

  He smiled at the looks of surprise on the faces of the other members of the group. “As I said, there is some new information that has a direct bearing on our task. I am expecting some guests to pop in momentarily to help with the explanation.”

  Behind him, he heard a soft popping sound and he saw the eyes of the other people in the room widen. He grinned more broadly. “Ah, just in time.”

  He turned. “May I introduce Mrs. Wallace, Mrs. Miller, Mrs. Franks, Mrs. Willow, Ms. Ekaterina and Mrs. Marsden?”

  The scientists stared at the beings who had materialized in the conference room. But the German stood up and pointed at one of the ruBracks.

  “Frau Franks, is it really you?” Bach asked. “But, no, it cannot be.”

  Mrs. Franks eased across the room and took Bach’s hand. “You have traveled a great distance, Johann.”

  “I was ten years old,” Bach said. “In Eisenach. You were such a comfort and help after my mother passed, and then my father.”

  “And you have done well, Johann.”