Of Crimson Indigo: Samuel Nomad's NEW AMERICA

by Grant Fausey

  "Welcome to the enigma," said the Governor Colonel as he stepped down off the Imperial Shuttle Tiberius, named after Tiberius Claudius Nero Caesar, the second Emperor of the Roman Empire, stepson and successor to Augustus. Gaius Octavius, the Imperial Majesty, adopted the name Augustus as a part of his own name when he had obtained supreme power in the regiments of the Industries. Thus, the shuttle carried the insignia of the Roman Empire. Gaius Julius Caesar Octavius, known as Octavian, credited the founder of the imperial government of the Empire in the years after 63 B.C.. Still, he was a citizen of the new Americas.

  The small, meager man beside him grinned, never looking toward him. A tall, blue skinned tree-dweller came rushing toward him, hurrying along the access way to where the shuttle had landed on the platform. He huffed and puffed; out of breath by the time he reached the bottom of the starship's ramp. "Greetings Majesty," he said, trying to catch his breath. "I apologize for my delay. I hope I have not kept you waiting?"

  "Not at all," said the Governor Colonel sharply. "If you had, you would now be dead." The meager man standing on the far side of the Colonial Mayor, a Lord Graves cringed. On his home world, such an acquisition would have been cause for a duel, but here, in the midst of Netherlands Nexus, the insult had to remain unchallenged. The Governor Colonel knew it. Courtesy was a thing of the past. A luxury he reserved only for the high council of the Industries itself. Such a commoner as the Colonial Mayor, or Lord Graves, wasn't worth his efforts. The Governor Colonel snapped his chops hard enough for his gums to bleed. The Colonial Mayor grinned, looked away and raised an eyebrow in defiance. There was no telling how long the visit would last. He just hoped it would be over quickly. But he knew it wouldn't. The Mayor stepped away lively, following in the footsteps of the Governor Colonel.

  "I want to go directly to the site. We'll begin debriefing, immediately. I want to know what has become of this girl?" The Colonial Mayor flinched. The events of the past morning had been an unusual turn of events. And it seemed the Governor Colonel knew more than expected. Someone had tipped the hat, and it seemed no stone would be left upturned. Feeling better about his wounds and himself, Samuel Nomad hurried along the rocky terrain until he reached the other side of the ridge that divided his universe from the next. The corridor had widened, becoming almost too far across for him to see the edges. On one side of the portal opening, he could see towering peaks covered with windswept snow the world were time travelers bathed in the warm waters of hot springs and steamy escapades.

  On another side, away from our encampment, he could see barren wasteland, filled with the dust and debris of a world blown apart by some unseen cataclysmic event. His eyes focused. The world driven into a billion pieces was the essence of a world besieged in a desolation that had been manufactured. An entire planet destroyed, stripped of every living. Even the moon was barely visible, hidden behind landmasses beseeched by wind swept clouds. It was the most inhospitable place Samuel Nomad had ever seen: A world covered in deep red earth and shifting sands, which were sparsely covered with small, nearly lifeless shrubs and brush. Samuel gasped. The thought of spending time on such a barren world gave him a bad taste in his mouth. Not to mention heartburn. Luckily, it wasn't on his agenda for today.

  The snowy wonderland didn't seem a good choice for adventure either. A foreboding climate, snowdrifts, avalanches and high winds weren't exactly inviting. However, it quite possibly held the quickest avenue home. There was no way of telling. Only the lush green vegetation of the plane in front of him seemed passable. From this world it seemed plausible to gain access to information, perhaps transportation or even a road map to this cozy cross section of the universe he found in front of him. But regardless of the outcome, there was one thing for certain. This dimension had life. It was filled with tree cities, starships, and alien creatures and, of course, the Industries.

  Samuel's deep blue eyes sparkled with the thought of having breakfast. Even here, once he left our encampment, he could probably finagle himself something to eat. It seemed possible at any cost. The decision was made. Samuel Nomad was on his way. The lush green world was it.

  – 19 –

  THE INVESTIGATION

  • • •

  THE THIRD UNIVERSE

  THIRD DIMENSION

  The Governor Colonel hesitated, stopped in the middle of the street. He couldn't believe his eyes. The fact that the event had only happened yesterday had its implications. But how was he supposed to report his findings? The fact that a major portion of the city had collapsed in the wake of the incident troubled him. "I want an investigation team flown in here, immediately," he said to his second in command, a green skinned human by the name of Torge.

  "One rogue transit hound isn't all that is involved here, Mr. Colonial Mayor. Windriggers can't do this kind of damage without being caught up in some kind of wonderful expectation." The Mayor knew the Governor was pacing his words, trying to keep the secret hidden. The Mayor just didn't know what the secret was that he was trying to conceal. Was it the fact that Trithen Kellnar had been here himself, or the fact that Riel Ben Tolar had botched his escapade with the young lady, or was it the notion that a transit hound had killed a new Earth Doctor, Reta Jordan, a well known authority in the field of DNA transmutation? It was obvious that a cover-up of enormous proportions was unfolding, but who was the empire pointing a finger at? It certainly wasn't him.

  "Gentlemen," said the Governor Colonel with great despair. "It would seem we had better start at the beginning. Mr. Colonial Mayor, would you be kind enough to follow Torge to the debriefing center. I believe he would like to begin his questioning with you." The Colonial Mayor stood fast in his position. The thought of being interrogated by the imperial police was an unpleasant one. The fact that they had implicated him at all was disheartening. The fact that they were going to question him was intolerable. It was obviously the work of mad men.

  We watched as Samuel Nomad descended the mountain, making his way into the jungle. He waved from the bottom of the cliffs, making sure he knew he was okay. We smiled among one another, each allowing the other to go about their own business. But I stood at the edge of the cliff, watching him as he disappeared into the vast foliage that guarded the entrance to the thresholds of the tree cities. It wasn't long before there were no more signs of him. He had done well covering his tracks, as to not lead anyone back to us, before our scheduled departures into the unknown. Samuel stopped. His head cocked up into the air as he heard the screams of the Colonial Mayor in the depths of the jungle.

  What have I done, he thought, considering the possibilities? Had he put himself in jeopardy? Was there some unseen beast that lingered in the midst of the trees? Some unwanted menace to society that would have his way with him? There was no way of telling. Just the hint of fear coursing his body that lingered like there was something he couldn't allow. Fear was the mind killer, he thought. He had seen it somewhere on a movie, in New America no less.

  Samuel pushed aside a grouping of several large leaves, ferns and other exotic plants and walked beyond the threshold into the forest. But he moved cautiously, trying not to disturb the wake of the distortion that surrounded him. He didn't want to end up someplace entirely different than he expected. He was taking quite a chance just walking across the ground. Who was to say that the earth wouldn't just open up into a fissure and carry him away on some roaring spillway into oblivion? Nothing, that's what!

  Samuel stopped, felt the ground under his feet. He was double-checking his own thoughts. He smiled. The ground was sturdy under his feet. He looked up and sighed. The tree cities rose in the distance, hovering in the sky mid way between the edge of the redwood forest and a meadow of tall grass and running brooks that lay in front of him. The setting was spectacular. A picturesque arrangement of large vines slung between sentinel posts and catwalks that lead up to the cities. It was a world unlike anything he had seen before. The splendor rivaled even the natural beauty of the cosmic stations orbiting beyond the Eden
sector, the planet ranches of Telta four, or even the green valleys of his own Earth. It was a spectacle beyond belief: A real "Kodak" moment.

  Samuel smiled. He was at the base of a new and exciting world. Nothing in his life could have prepared him for what he was about to see, for nothing in his life rivaled the grandeur of this first contact. Like a curly haired kid, he took his first step, grabbing a hold of the rope railing that spanned both sides of the ramp. He took another step and started to climb. Yes, he felt like a child man in a boy's shoes, ready to find his way to the top of the castle.

  His feet peddled faster and faster up the ramp until he reached the top of the ramp and was staring at the curb of the streets. There it was, standing on the lower level of what was the greatest engineering achievement he had ever seen. In all its glory the future met the past. Flags waved in the breeze, a cloth canopy covered the shops, dirt raced along the curve of the wood below his feet, and there, in the midst of all the excitement were a thousand different species. Aliens from a hundred different worlds, carts and animals he had never seen before. It was spectacular. Samuel had to take in a deep breath. He was short on air: A lonesome blend of both excitement and anxiety. Even his feet were tingling.

  "Oh, my," he uttered, gloating with a bubble of enthusiasm that was about to burst. "I've died and gone to heaven."

  "Welcome, stranger. Welcome to the portal city to New Haven," offered a passerby. Samuel smiled at the individual and glimmered with exaltations at the unexpected greeting.

  "Why thank you," he exclaimed. He was in the midst of friendly people. That excited him. Torge raced along the gangplank to the main concourse on the far side of the platform Samuel Nomad strolled along. His hurried pace whisked him along the wooden arches until he reached the base of a connecting bridge. He stopped before a young tribunal, a youthful man by the name of Callen Sheers.

  Sheers acknowledged his presence and accepted the verbal message with little hesitation. He turned and darted up the ramp and across the bridge to the neighboring tree city running at a full gallop. Samuel was astonished at the boy’s speed. He watched until the lad raced across the gangplanks to a ladder on the upper level, and rose along the great trunk of another earth bound redwood. It was simply amazing. The sheer size of the trunk was immeasurable. The base itself encompassed at least a half a kilometer, if not a full kilometer in diameter. Suspended structures housed the main spaceport and connecting terminals that feed the hover rail system to its connecting points on the outer rim of the cities. Everything was interconnected with the central high-rise complexes supported by the trees that surrounded him.

  Finally, Samuel noticed the tall, slender green skinned human and thought he looked remarkably familiar. He'd seen him somewhere before, but in what universe?

  Was he home?

  Was this the universe he was searching for? Had he found his Earth without so much as trying? Or was this some unknown world in some unknown universe he could never find his way back too. It was unlikely, but he was excited about the notion nonetheless.

  Torge saw him too. But it wasn't a casual response that he entered. "Criminal," he shouted! "Stop that man!"

  Samuel looked around dazed by the ramifications. He couldn't be pointing at him. The thought was ridiculous. He didn't really know this fellow and besides he'd only just arrived. How could he be a criminal?

  It didn't seem polite to just eat and run, but Samuel didn't feel he had a choice. Being mistaken for a bad guy wasn't something he had patience to deal with; especially, when he considered all the possibilities. Besides, he was in pursuit himself. There was a good, hardy breakfast waiting for him somewhere out there. His stomach was growling for Alvericon's sake.

  "Who––Me?" he shouted. Samuel Nomad caught an escape route out of the corner of his eye. "Imperial guards to the fourth level. J Street," snarled Torge using his intercommunications device to contact the appropriate authorities. "Intruder alert! I want the city sealed off at all exits. Move!"

  Samuel Nomad didn't take kindly to the obvious threat Torge represented. He was in the wrong place at the right time, and obviously he'd been mistaken for some other sap that was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Arguing the point wasn't going to do anything but get him killed, so he ran. He ran hard, leaping and jumping over a gambit of obstacles. He even considered sliding down a pole or two. Escape had seemed plausible, at least until he saw the garrison of troops pouring into the upper levels above him. The situation didn't warrant that kind of response as far as he could see!

  Torge ran after him, keeping a careful track of his whereabouts until a squad of imperial secret police joined him at the main ramp of the adjoining concourse. The elite squad was briefed in a half second, and Torge scrutinized the troopers as they stomped off in a dozen different directions.

  With weapons drawn, the troopers charged into a screaming crowd of pedestrians, clearing the way for the imperials troops as they marched through the wooden streets on a house to house, shop to shop search of the areas surrounding where Torge had first seen his fugitive. Like an infestation the soldiers climbed the levels. Samuel huffed, out of breath. The pursuit was a tiring one. Especially for a man who had died and come back to life again after all he had been in cryogenic sleep. The mere thought of being caught by these degenerates curled his stomach, chilling him to the bone. Mankind's inhumanity to man hadn't stopped in over a hundred million years, why should he suspect anything different now? The question seemed rhetorical. Torge triggered a few keys on his intercommunications device and snarled into the transceiver.

  "Torge to Lord Graves: Replicant on the main concourse, Sir. Request the Governor Colonel to make arrangements for recovery. Priority one."

  "Replicant," whimpered Samuel. He wasn't a replicant. He was the real thing ... or at least he thought he was! Lord Graves’s dark eyes opened wide. He was listening to the report of a mad man. There hadn't been a priority one in centuries. Most of the rebellion's leaders had been systematically tracked down and eliminated. If a priority one termination did exist, he figured it was only in Torge's head. Anything else was unthinkable. The Industries wouldn't allow it.

  "This is Graves," shouted the military dignitary, pulling the intercommunications device out of the hand of another of his crack troops. "Repeat your message, please! And slow down will you, Torge. You've obviously made a mistake."

  "Sorry, Sir."

  "That's better. A little on edge are we?"

  "Not at all, Sir," snapped Torge. "We've a priority one identification. It's a hard copy, Sir."

  "Do you know what you're saying, man?" Torge listened to Lord Graves. He knew what he was talking about. The Industries elite terminator units had missed one of the rebel leaders and covered it up. The terminator machines didn't lie, so he had to be in error. But he wasn't. He had a priority one in front of him. The fact remained. Lord Graves was irritated. The Industries had sent terminator squads … seek and destroy missions. They had been discussed and used as infiltration units. The best of them were used as exploration units. Some were even double agents, sent out to destroy machine targets as well as the human counterparts. No one, not man or machine, knew who they were. There was no way of telling. The machines themselves didn't know who they were. The units were programmed to be someone, something else. They attacked, destroyed their respective target or targets then released the programming. Any memories of the events were to be eliminated after completion of the implanted execution. No record of the assignation remained, just the product of it. The units were to continue with there pre-attack programming. The prime directive was to stay with the preprogrammed agenda until its completion. The terminator itself never knew it had done the job. The plan was fool proof. The only mistake they made was in their infidelity. Some of the units failed. The Industries had no way of keeping track of the homespun terminators they had released, especially when they were released into unsuspecting universes. Accidents occurred and shit happened! It was the law of the land. Torge knew
the consequences. The unthinkable would happen. Complete sterilization of the affected area would have to be contemplated. Nothing would be allowed to remain. Not animal, not plant, not insect or microbe––Nothing down to the DNA level. The books were specific. Total regeneration would be called for in the event of the discovery of a failed assignation. Lord Graves cringed. He turned to the Governor Colonel.