by Ward Wagher
“You understand, of course, that the ruBracks have been helping us,” the paladin said.
The Woogie made a noise like the air escaping from a balloon, and the paladin caught a definite whiff of ammonia.
“ruBracks can observe,” Shuurely said, “and they are good at that. But not understand any better than the humanities.”
“But they can move between universes,” the paladin said. “At least that is what they claimed.”
“Correctizactly. The Maker made them that way. They not know how it works.”
The paladin chewed at a loose piece of skin on a finger as he thought frantically. Whenever the Woogies promised something, they had always delivered. And there was no question he owed the Woogies from other times they had helped. But he was betting with the billions of sentients in the universe.
“You’ve got me on the spot here,” he said.
“Old human saying, when you can’t breath get off the pot! Mind over matter, Paderewski.”
The paladin snorted. The Woogie had rather badly fractured that one, but it was still right. He had to make a decision.
“Okay, Shuurely, let me comm the lab and tell them you’re coming. Do you need transportation?”
“Woogie cannot walk to Urbana.”
“Okay, I’ll get you an aircar.”
“The Woogie already has an aircar.”
“Eh? All right. I will instruct them to give you every cooperation.”
“All coopulation would be better.”
“What?”
“See you later, human,” Shuurely waved a tentacle as it glided out the door.
Arnold Gingery picked up his comm and punched the accept key. “Yes, Paladin?”
“Arnold, you have a Woogie headed your way.”
“Excuse me, Sir?”
“A Woogie just invited itself into my office and told me the Woogies would fix our temporal problems for us.”
“Uh, Paladin, are you sure that is a good idea? I mean, we have a real problem here. That last event… well, the lab people are really shaken up about it.”
“Talk to me, Arnold,” the paladin said.
“When the harmonic hit, they were sure it was all over.” Gingery’s voice was shaky.
“You mean as in the whole universe coming apart?”
“Yes, Sir. At the last moment, there was some kind of contravening wave that canceled the harmonic. In fact, it went clear off the other end of the scale.”
“That’s good news, then, Arnold. Does that mean we got some help?” the paladin asked.
“Well, yes and no, Sir. It seems there was a Sally analog in a distant branch universe, pardon me I am still trying to get my mind around this, anyway, the Sally analog attempted to set up a portal between universes.”
“That’s interesting. It sounds like this universe has a better hold on theory.”
“Not exactly. She succeeded in opening a portal and then the process got away from her. She succeeded in collapsing her universe and she also pulled down nearly one hundred others. The shock waves from that canceled out the harmonic.”
The paladin was momentarily speechless. He looked around his desk at random. His mind scurried down dark paths.
“Arnold, she killed everybody in a hundred universes? Do I want to hear this?”
“Not exactly, Sir,” Gingery said. “The worlds she opened the portal to were empty, thank God.”
“Okay, but she pulled down hers as well?”
“Yes, Sir,” Gingery said softly. “The ruBrack told us she killed about twenty billion people. She was trying to find a place to migrate Earth’s excess population.”
The paladin puffed his cheeks as he exhaled. “That just defies belief. Twenty people…, twenty-billion people died?”
“Yes, Sir.”
The paladin pondered things for a few moments. “Very well. You have a Woogie coming your way. I want you and your people to give it every cooperation. It claims it has the solution.”
“I will, of course, follow your directive, Paladin.”
“Cheerfully, Arnold. Cheerfully.”
“If you say so, Sir.”
“Do you have a problem with that, Arnold?”
Gingery hesitated. “A Woogie, Sir? Most of them are walking accidents waiting to happen. We just had the closest of close calls. I am not sure letting a Woogie loose in the lab is a good idea.”
“I hear ya, Arnold. But, if a Woogies tells you something, you can usually take it to the bank.”
“The bank, Sir? I do not understand...”
“Sorry, Arnold. What I mean is that there are good reasons for trusting a Woogie’s word.”
“Well, Sir, you are the boss...”
“And I sign the paychecks. I understand.”
The paladin laid down his comm with another sigh. He didn’t understand why people had problems with the Woogies. He, of all people, was entitled to resent them. They had kidnapped him once, after all. But as a group, they were probably more honest and honorable than humans, even if they were quirky. He looked up to see his secretary standing in the doorway.
“Yes, Cleo?”
“Twenty billion people died?”
“Cleo, what is your security classification?”
“Top Secret, Sir.”
“What you heard was Top Secret Ultra. You cannot repeat what you just heard. People will die.”
“But it sounds like that has already happened, Sir.”
“Cleo!” the paladin said sharply.
“Shut the door. Come and sit down.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The chubby little man walked across the room and slipped into the chair across from the paladin.
“Those old ladies who in the office a few weeks back?”
“The ruBracks, Sir?”
The paladin nodded. “Yes. They were not from this universe.”
“I don’t understand, Sir.”
“Neither do I, really. There is something going on that is impacting the fabric of the universe.”
“Those strange things that happened three times, Sir?” Cleo said. “Is that what we are talking about? That the universe could somehow have dissolved? How is that possible?”
“That is what we are talking about,” the paladin said heavily. “And, no, I don’t understand how it can happen. But there you are. The ruBracks are working on the problem, and that Woogie that was just here also volunteered.”
Cleo began shaking his head. “I just cannot believe that. This is terrifying.” He looked up at the paladin. “Sir, whatever are we going to do?”
“We are going to do what we are doing right now. And you cannot breathe a word of this. We would have panic in the streets and people would die.”
“But, we could all die.”
“Yes, we could. But I don’t believe we will. That is not how the Bible says it will all end. I have seen a lot of things in my life, Cleo. And you know I have. I have seen nothing that gainsays the Bible. There is no reason for me not to trust God. So, don’t come apart on me, Cleo. I need your help.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The paladin watched as the secretary walked numbly out of his office. After the door slid closed, he picked up his comm again and punched the code for the Security Coordinator.
“David, we may have a problem.”
“Why does that not surprise me,” the security coordinator replied.
“Listen, Cleo accidentally heard some Ultra coded stuff. You need to keep an eye on him. If he goes off the rails we will be in real trouble.”
“I understand. What do you want me to do?”
“David, what he heard is about as hot as anything ever was. I’m wondering if we ought to lock him up for the time being.”
“That will raise other questions, Scott.”
“I hate like everything to drop this into your lap,” the paladin said, “but this is critical and I don’t have time to deal with it.”
“What are the parameters?”
“David, this is one of those times when we may have to exercise my autocratic powers. Just do whatever you must. I will cover you.”
He heard a deep sigh over the comm unit.
“...very well, Scott.”
INTERLUDE 4
January 18, 1960; 4 AM
Chancellor Bunker
North of Berlin
Greater German Reich
Heinrich Schloss opened his eyes to a pounding headache. He was lying on the floor of the Chancellor Bunker. Debris lay on the floor along the hallway where pieces of concrete had dislodged from the ceiling. Stratified layers of dust hung in the air – the ventilation system apparently not running. Red emergency lights gave the bunker a macabre appearance. The floor heaved again in concert with a long drawn out rumble, and more bits of the ceiling pattered to the floor. Okay, that one was not as close.
He dragged himself to his feet, his head pounding like the blacksmith’s hammer. He turned around to return to his private apartment and check on Hanalore. He was confronted with a wall of rubble where the ceiling had caved in.
“Hanalore!” he shouted. “Hanalore, are you well?”
There was no answer. He began frantically pulling at the debris to gain an opening into the room. He continued shouting her name in his panic. He clawed at the concrete and dirt. There was no time. He had to rescue his wife.
Schloss’s efforts came to an abrupt halt as the dust cleared enough for him to see a human foot protruding from a mound of steel and concrete. The foot was wearing a red shoe. Hanalore’s red shoe. He was reminded of how much she had loved that pair of red shoes. And now that did not matter anymore. Nothing mattered very much anymore.
Schloss stumbled along the hallway towards the control center. The door was jammed and he finally grabbed the edges of the door and wrenched it open. The control center was still intact, though much of the equipment no longer functioned. General Roettiger turned as Schloss walked in.
“Are you injured, Herr Reichschancellor?” he asked.
“Part of the bunker collapsed,” Schloss said. “My wife...” and he shook his head.
The general sighed deeply. “Our emergency generators did not fire up, so we are on battery power. We still have contact with Valkyrie II.
Schloss shook himself. The nation still existed, and he had his duties. He would allow his grief later.
“Do you have a status report, Herr General?”
“Valkyrie is transmitting its observations. From the radar tracks we observed here before the strike, we surmise the anti-rockets stopped about forty percent of the American rockets.”
“That low?”
“That is rather better than we predicted. The American anti-rockets were less effective. As far as we can ascertain, the United States is no longer a functioning entity. We also managed to stop their Strategic Air Command cold.”
“What about their second strike?”
“As far we know,” Roettiger continued, “the Americans did not know we had our own attack U-Boats following their rocket submarines. As soon as the attack orders went out, our U-Boat commanders were instructed to attack and destroy the American boats. I believe we have sufficient anti-rockets to stop a small second strike.”
“And are our rocket U-Boats safe?” Schloss asked.
The general gave him a thin smile. “That remains to be seen, doesn’t it? My personal opinion is that our U-Boat fleet is largely intact.”
“So, the Americans cannot harm us further?”
“I did not say that, Herr Reichschancellor. I believe their capabilities are greatly diminished.”
“But we could ride out a second strike?” Schloss persisted.
“I suspect that is the case.”
“Did Peter Schreiber survive?”
“We are still in communication with the Alpine Redoubt. It remained hidden.”
“Very well,” Schloss said. “Instruct our rocket U-Boats to remain at readiness, but not launch. We are going to need those assets if anyone else gets frisky while we rebuild the nation. You should probably send that while we still have battery power.”
“At once, Herr Reichschancellor.”
“What are our chances of being rescued?” he asked.
“I am not positive,” the general replied, “although they should be quite good. We will have to wait forty-eight hours for the worst of the radiation to subside. The High Command knows where we are, and that we survived.”
“Some of us survived,” Schloss said.
A wave of dizziness and exhaustion washed over him and he sat down suddenly. He faintly heard the general calling to him.
“Are you all right, Herr Reichschancellor? Can you hear me?”
March 1, 1942; 2AM
Near Rudersdorf, Germany
Schloss shot up in bed with a gasp. He was bathed in sweat and with the covers dislodged, he shivered in the cold air of the bedroom. Gisela’s hand was still intertwined with his, and he felt her reflexive grasp.
“What is it, Darling?” she whispered.
He disengaged himself from her hand and slid out of bed. He walked over to the window and looked out at the night.
“What is happening?” she again whispered.
“A bad dream,” he said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“Can you talk about it? Perhaps that will help.”
“No,” he said walking over to the bed. He slid his feet into the slippers and pulled his robe on. “You should go back to sleep. I’m going to go get some coffee.”
She started to climb out of the bed. “I can make the coffee for you, Darling.”
“No, Schatzi, one of the guards can do that. There is no need for both of us freezing.”
“Oh, nonsense.” She rolled out of the bed and quickly pulled her robe on. “Come, Darling, the only way to excise the dream is to get more completely awake.”
I hate to impose my neurosis on her, but I am glad she is with me. And, what did that dream mean?
They stepped into the living room and came to a halt in front of the shadowy figure of Frau Marsden.
“What are you doing here?” Schloss yelled. “And who is with the children?”
The two guards in the living room came to their feet and pulled their guns. Schloss put a hand out.
“No, no. Everything is fine. I just had a nightmare and came out for some coffee.”
“Frau Marsden has been here since you went to bed, Herr Reichschancellor,” one of the guards said.
Frau Marsden looked at Schloss. “The children are safe. You must trust me on that.”
“Then… how?”
“We can discuss that later, Herr Schloss. We have a problem. It appears to be a large problem.”
“What kind of a problem?” Gisela asked.
Frau Marsden jumped, as though noticing Gisela for the first time. “I am sorry, Frau Badhoff, I did not know you were here tonight.”
“What?” Schloss said, sharply. “But you did know. You lectured me about it before I left Berlin.”
The old lady seemed to have lost her normal self-assurance. She looked back and forth between them and licked her lips. “Her Schloss, I must speak with you. Alone.”
And if she doesn’t want Gisela in the conversation it means she wants to talk about where I came from.
“Go back to bed, Gisela.”
“But, Hennie, I think I need to be in this conversation.”
“I said, go back to bed. We will talk later.”
She looked between him and Frau Marsden. Without another word, she turned and walked back into the bedroom.
“I promised her there would be no secrets between us,” Schloss said.
“And there are some secrets you will carry to the grave,” she said. “But, come to the kitchen. I have the coffee ready.”
The old lady seemed to gather strength from the routine tasks as she poured coffee into a mug for Schloss. He sat at the table and watched as her confidence seemed to return. She poured another mug of coff
ee and sat down across the table from him.
That is new. She has never sat down like that to talk to me. And I have never seen her drink coffee before.
“You had another dream, Herr Schloss.” It was a statement, not a question.
“It was a continuation of the previous dream. An atomic rocket strike. Hanalore was killed. I understood that other Schloss’s grief. I felt my heart would break. It was real, wasn’t it?” His voice broke.
She nodded. “Twice now you have visited, in some fashion, an alternate reality.”
“Was that the Alter-Schloss?” he asked.
“Excuse me, Herr Schloss?”
He shook his head. “I am sorry. You have admitted to me that I have replaced another Schloss in this reality. I called him the Alter-Schloss. Was that who I saw?”
“Did you see him?” she asked.
“Only when he looked in the mirror. I was him. Yet, I was still me.”
She slowly sipped the coffee and seemed to stare in the distance.
“What does all this mean?” he asked.
“The forces that brought you here, Herr Schloss, are still in motion. They are causing great damage and there is a chance that this reality where we now live will cease to exist.”
“How can that be? Are we all going crazy?”
“Please listen carefully, Herr Schloss. There are hundreds of parallel realities that are mostly similar, but with some profound differences. You came from a place where Hitler did not suffer his airplane crash. And he destroyed the Germany where you grew up. In still another reality, the friendship with the United States that you carefully crafted fell apart and ended with a mutually destructive war.”
“Was that the Alter-Schloss I saw?” he asked again.
“No, Herr Schloss, he was not.”
“What is going to happen?”
“Listen very carefully, Herr Schloss,” she said. “I came out here tonight to warn you about the various realities. You had decided to come out yourself this afternoon because Gisela had come down with a bad cold.”
“I do not know what you are talking about. That did not happen,” he said flatly.
“Of course, it didn’t,” she said. “Our reality forked earlier this evening. I should have detected that. For some reason, I did not. And that sort of event is not supposed to be possible.”