by Geoff Wolak
Magestic 3
Copyright © Geoff Wolak
www.geoffwolak-writing.com
Part 1
** NOTE. Magestic Book 3 follows on closely from Books 1 & 2, so you will need to have read Books 1 & 2 first. There is no review.
New Kinshasa, 1938-world
I often mistook this world for my own - where it was now 2048, but it is all relative, time and space. Jimmy and the gang had journeyed to this world when it turned 1920 here, and I joined him in 1925, but because of the Second World War starting here in 1938 we all referred to it as “1938 world”.
Helen, my ex-wife, was here – escaping the press in 2048, and was due to give birth to our daughter today by C-Section. My current wife, Dr Susan Blake, had no issues with the fact that I had made Helen pregnant, since it had occurred many years before I had met Susan. Well, it was many years on this world, obviously a shorter time period on Helen’s world.
I had accidentally made my ex-wife pregnant, left the planet, spent thirty years on another world, raised a family there and now had grown kids, and had returned before the baby was due. There were a few jokes flying around, the odd cartoon about me in the press even, and it all took some explaining to the grandchildren as to just who I was married to.
Jimmy had returned to his English country mansion on this world after his visit and tour of 2048 – on two worlds. His kids were grown-up as well, but he remained with Dr Helen Astor-Silo – a surprise for me and the gang; we figured he might travel.
New Kinshasa on this world was a little confusing at times, and damned confusing at other times. I met people that I had known on my original world - now visiting this world, then met their younger versions a day later and asked stupid questions like :-
‘I thought you were going back today?’
‘Going back where, sir?’
‘To your family.’
‘I’m not married, sir. Are you OK?’
I had a word with the current President of Africa, and nametags were introduced, to be worn by all visitors from other dimensions. One smart-arse, seeing an opportunity to get some publicity – and a few free drinks and meals at the best restaurants – contacted his other self on six worlds and organised a get together. The variously-aged group of twins were a hit for a few days, till people got bored with the idea.
Susan and I now sped across New Kinshasa in a mini-bus, a bullet-proof, laser-proof, bomb and EMP proof mini-bus, heading towards Helen. Lucy had left us a day ago, and Shelly was busy back in 2048, so it was just me to hold Helen’s hand; me and a thousand keen medics, and a few keen reporters camped outside.
The press were less of a problem here, since we had enacted powers to curb the press on this world, and life was more tolerable for the rich and the famous. We drove into the underground parking structure of the main hospital and took the lift up. By time we arrived at the right room, a corner suite with a great view, a little pink bundle was already being presented to Helen, Susan going all maternal and soppy, silly noises made and faces pulled.
‘At least we’ve given the press something to gossip about,’ I commented, leaning in and taking a look.
‘Another girl,’ Helen informed us, my ex-wife looking very well.
‘No complications?’ I nudged.
‘Laser surgery from our era,’ Helen informed me as she pulled out a breast and nudged our daughter towards it. ‘Painless, and better than the first few.’
‘No … age related issues?’ I broached.
‘They said something about DNA reduction, or degradation or something,’ Helen commented, seemingly unconcerned. ‘But they think she’s fine. Her blood tests will be ready in a day or so.’
‘Jimmy had kids after three hundred years,’ I pointed out. ‘Body replenishes itself.’
‘Have you thought of a name?’ Susan asked Helen, our new life sucking happily.
‘We’ve used up a few,’ Helen replied.
‘Selemba,’ I suggested, and I had no idea why, stood puzzling my own brain activity.
‘An African name,’ Helen considered. ‘It’s not bad, and she was conceived and born in Africa.’
A crack of the air preceded a flash, and a gold chain dropped to the floor.
‘What the fuck…?’ I began, staring down at it.
An alarm sounded.
Security burst in. ‘Sir, we detected a radiation spike, a portal.’
‘It’s OK,’ I loudly told them, picking up the chain. ‘Someone … sent us … this chain.’ I read the inscription as security waved wands about. ‘Selemba.’
‘My god,’ Susan let out, standing to get a look at the chain. ‘She sent it, from the future.’
I handed the chain to Susan, who handed it over to Helen. Helen examined the chain, and then placed it around our daughter’s neck; it was child size. It was baby sized!
‘There’s a symbol of a fish on it,’ Helen noted as I waved out the security detail.
‘A Christian symbol?’ Susan wondered.
‘Maybe she … becomes religious in later life,’ I suggested as my phone started to trill. ‘I’d better make a few calls, that energy spike must have set-off the detectors across the world.’ Sighing, I waved at my daughter and stepped outside.
In the corridor, I lifted my phone. ‘Computer, send the following message to all news outlets and all governments: today, Helen Holton gave birth to a baby girl, well and healthy, and we have named her Selemba. A minute after naming the baby a small portal opened and a necklace appeared - with the name of Selemba on it, sent from the future. I don’t think there is anything to worry about, and the gift is probably from one of the gang, or from Selemba herself in the future. At least we got the name right, paradox fulfilled. I have no further information. End message.’
The security detail had been listening in, all Kenya Rifles Pathfinders.
‘My mother was called Selemba,’ a guard said, adopting a big toothy smile.
‘I don’t even know where I heard the name,’ I said with a shrug. I touched the image of Jimmy on my phone, and his real-time streaming video image appeared.
‘Paul, are you OK?’
‘Yeah, fine.’
‘We’re getting reports of a portal opening.’
‘One did, and someone dropped through a necklace for the baby, with her new name on it.’
‘That’s … odd.’
‘I know. I suggested the name, and … the necklace fell out of the air.’
‘There seems to be no purpose to it, so I suspect there’s something else going on,’ Jimmy cautioned. ‘Where’s the necklace now?’
‘Around the baby’s neck…’
‘Get it off her, and have it checked!’ he shouted, causing me to burst into the room.
‘Get the necklace off her!’ I shouted, rushing across. Helen eased off the necklace, startled, and handed it over. A guard had followed me in, and I now handed it to him. ‘I want that checked by the best laboratory, every possible test made, even an electron microscope. Move it!’ The man ran out as I lifted the phone to Jimmy’s image. ‘You think it could be a trick?’
‘Who the hell would send a simple gift through space and time?’ Jimmy insisted. ‘Have the baby checked out for contamination, and move rooms at random; they know where you’ll be. And keep a guard with her. Let me know the results.’ Jimmy cut the call, Susan now very concerned, Helen more than just very concerned.
‘What do you think it was?’ Helen asked.
I shrugged. ‘Jimmy thinks it could be … meant to harm her.’
‘Why?’ Helen loudly asked.
‘Maybe she has a destiny, a role to play in the future,’ Susan noted. ‘And maybe someone wanted to modify that destiny.’
I pushed a button, a doctor appearing a few seconds later
. ‘Doc, I want the baby tested for every type of poison you can, or … anything else. She came in contact with a necklace and we think it may have been a trick, to harm her.’
The doctor was shocked, rushing out.
Helen lifted up with the baby. ‘Come on, let’s move rooms. Susan, toss a coin for left or right.’
An hour later a rash appeared around the baby’s neck, and Helen was inconsolable. I was pretty fucking mad as well. I had called the portal authorities, and they were checking detectors and logs to see if they could tell just where that portal had originated. It was a long shot, but they were frantically looking. Africa was now on a war footing, the news spreading, every soldier in Africa now wanting vengeance. So did I.
And Selemba, the poor little mite, she was wired up to a dozen bleeping machines, several blood samples taken. They had checked for every type of radiation, and found none. They had also checked to see if she had my blood, and she did – a rare occurrence. We had been pleased when we found out that she had the blood, since it would certainly negate most poisons. Still, whoever had sent the necklace must have known that she had my blood, and factored that in.
I paced up and down a great deal as the tests were being carried out, and so far they had concluded that there had been a transfer of something. I had handled the necklace, my hands showing no signs of a red rash, and Helen and Susan were clear of any marks. It was just the baby, a line around her neck.
When a scientist appeared with a worried look, we all became worried as well. ‘Sir, a scan of that necklace reveals that it possess advanced nano-computers.’
‘Nano-computers?’ I repeated. ‘To do what?’
‘We’re still analysing them, sir, but they are very advanced. We sent images back to 2048 on both advanced worlds, and they’re sending a team of specialists. What I can say … is that there is a delivery system and a chemical component.’ He paused. ‘She has been infected with something.’
Helen burst out crying again, consoled by Susan.
Facing the scientist, I said, ‘Any ideas on the chemical?’
‘So far, it looks like a derivative of the blood product.’
‘The blood product?’ I puzzled. ‘To do … what?’
‘We don’t know, but it seems to be a modified retro virus of the same family used by the original inventors of the drug Mister Silo was given.’
I frowned hard. ‘Could it have been sent … to help her, to … make her stronger or something?’
‘So far there are no symptoms apart from the rash, sir, but we’re taking blood every half hour to see if any changes are taking place as time goes on.’
With the scientist gone, I said to Helen, ‘It’s a type of blood product from the future, very sophisticated nano-technology, so maybe they don’t want to harm her. Maybe this is a boost she needs for later.’
‘Then they’d send a note!’ Susan snapped. ‘Who’d be so heartless as to infect a baby without explaining it? And we would have seen the rash and investigated. Who’d want Helen to go through all this?’
‘Not her daughter,’ I quietly commented, staring down at Selemba as she slept, machines bleeping quietly.
Susan and I stayed the night in guest rooms near Helen, security tight, and woke to find Jimmy quizzing the scientists.
‘Anything?’ I asked him.
He took a moment. ‘The nano-technology used is at least twenty years ahead of 2048, very advanced stuff, so I’m hoping they – whoever they are - know what they’re doing. Your daughter … has been given a new blood product, and it’s removing and replacing your blood properties – which came from me.’
‘Then … it’s not harmful?’
‘It’s too soon to tell, is the simple answer. But if they wanted her dead she would be dead, so that’s not what this is about. But … there’s now a very advanced blood product in her – and we’ll need to quarantine you all for a while.’
I blew out an exasperated sigh. ‘Any word on the portal used?’
‘No trace back,’ Jimmy informed me. ‘Not enough data.’
I led him in to see Helen, a big hug given, a cup of tea downed as we chatted about all things temporal. Half an hour later we were led down to a lab that had been prepared specially, beds made ready, and Susan and I - plus Helen and the baby, we were made comfortable. Those people that had already been in contact with us were allowed access, no one else. We all gave blood samples, and we were examined at length, at great length.
A week later we stepped out, the best brains of 2048 on two worlds figuring that we were fine, and that there was no threat to the planet. Susan and Helen were now joined at the hip and best buddies, and I had an odd family unit of ex-wife, current wife, and baby.
Selemba was growing rapidly, albeit just a few millimetres a day, but she had been measured every which way four times a day. The rash had gone, and medical science concluded that she had been given an enhanced version of the super-drug, for what reason … was yet to be seen, and might not be seen for twenty years or more. My daughter seemed to have a destiny, and I made a note to thump someone in the decades ahead.
We headed around to the mansion, the house an almost identical replica to that on my original world, and settled down to some serious relaxation.
For the past week, everything we had done had been under the microscope; every pee taken, every sneeze. We were all ready for some peace and quiet, visitors banned for a few days. I took my daughter to the pool, which she loved. And there started an odd thing which I did not register fully at the time. When Selemba cried, the proximity of the pool soothed her. Removing her from the pool caused tears. It was odd, but Shelly and Lucy had also been aquatic at an early age.
On the fifth day I shouted for Helen and Susan, and they came running to the pool. I had released Selemba in the shallows, and she had set off alone. As we all observed, our two-week-old baby popped up to breathe, and then swam down and around, going at least two minutes between breaths.
‘Shelly was aquatic, but not like this,’ I said, staying close. ‘She swims like a bloody fish!’
I put my goggles on, Helen joining me, and we swam down, fearful for our two-week-old offspring. But the baby seemed more at ease under the water than on land. That day I had a team of experts look into it, but they assured me that some babies did that. And not to worry. So we sat around worrying a great deal.
Susan and Helen were now like sisters, and I wasn’t sure whether I liked that or not. Helen and I had drifted apart and divorced, but we still cared for each other and worked well together; there had never been a cross word. Still, your ex-wife and current wife under the same roof makes you nervous, and Jimmy emailed a few rude jokes across.
Aliens
One fine morning, as I dried off Selemba after a swim - only the thought of food getting her out of the water - my assistant at the house came running.
‘Sir! Sir! You are requested to attend an emergency temporal meeting in London today.’
My heart sank; was this about Selemba? I handed my damp daughter to a maid and rushed inside to dress, soon picked up by a helicopter and whisked to Forward Base. I smiled when I caught sight of a sleek Trophy B36-F bomber sat on the runway, and made a note not to tell the women in my life. The ground crew issued me a helmet and strapped me in behind the pilots, the engineer’s station not needed for this flight. As I observed the computerised instrumentation in the darkened cockpit, I was soon forced back into my seat as we powered down the runway. We soon went vertical.
‘Sorry, sir, but tight on airspace at the moment,’ the pilot offered in a Canadian accent.
‘No problem, just don’t tell my wife.’
‘Which one, sir?’ came back, along with a chuckle, and I rolled my eyes.
We levelled off around thirty thousand feet and climbed towards forty thousand, soon Mach-3 over the Sahara.
‘Are we breaking a few speed laws?’ I nudged.
‘Mister Silo requested best speed, sir. We’re supposed to slow down
over Europe -’
‘Fuck ‘em. Floor it guys, this meeting sounds important.’
‘Met Hal Becker last week,’ the co-pilot mentioned. ‘Arizona, at an air show.’
‘How is he?’ I asked through the headset.
‘Looking old, but they say he may be hospitalised and injected, a ten day procedure.’
‘Did he need to make a few women pregnant?’ I quipped.
The crew laughed, their helmets shaking. ‘Don’t need that method any more, sir.’
‘Pity. Does he … seem OK?’ I asked.
‘He stopped flying a few years back, as you probably know, but after the procedure he says he’ll get back into test pilot work. Your lad was there as well, flying the new F29.’
‘That’ll stop when he gets married. She’ll clip his wings for him.’
‘Long … engagement, your lad,’ the pilot broached.
‘He’s working himself into the idea slowly.’
We made good time to London, a few complaints from various air traffic controllers referred to Jimmy. The bird touched down smoothly at Gatwick Airport south of London, and must have looked menacing next to all the bulbous civilian airliners, their civil pilots salivating at the sleek military bird in their midst.
I was soon in a Trophy H32, which looked a bit like my old Agusta helicopter, and we flew to the Prime Minister’s residence of Chequers. Inside the dated mansion I met the current British PM, Timkins having stepped down a few years ago. The PM led me through to a conference room, and to Jimmy. Ranged around the room were several generals from Britain and America, and the senior portal directors and scientists. Our African security minister was present, which meant that the African portals may be used for some reason. My thoughts were about Selemba, but Jimmy’s first words were: ‘This is not about Selemba.’
We all claimed chairs and settled around a large wooden table, notepads, pens and sparkling water sat awaiting some interest. Jimmy took in the expectant faces. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, we have – as you know – had people stepping through frequencies and peeking at other worlds for some time. They found one particular world that exhibited odd radio signals, and a language that wasn’t recognised. There were no other EM bands in use other than basic television on that world, from a period of approximately 1960.’ He paused. ‘And the newscasters were alien, not human.’