Historians Proper Read online

  HISTORIANS PROPER

  Book One

  S. David Acuff

  HISTORIANS PROPER

  1st Edition

  Copyright © 2019 S. David Acuff

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles and reviews.

  Bravo Bay Books

  Los Angeles, California

  [email protected]

  ISBN-13: 978-1-6997-0369-4

  IMPRINT: Bravo Bay Books

  DEDICATION

  This, my very first book, is dedicated to my three incredible Jedi Princesses:

  Caitlyn, Alexis and Raegan.

  It’s not enough to dream the dreams, you have to do the do’s. And always remember, no matter what anyone else tells you:

  You can write the future!

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1: The Journeyman

  Chapter 2: Sventy’s Pub

  Chapter 3: DeeGØ

  Chapter 4: Secrets of Generex

  Chapter 5: Descent of the Oryx

  Chapter 6: Surviving West Holland

  About the Author

  Credits

  Reviews

  Sneak Peak: Battle Tides: Pirate Slayer

  CHAPTER 1

  Alex’s bloodshot eyes scanned the bustling megapolis splayed out before him that was New Domain. Smog filtered the sun’s rays and cast a dirty, orange haze across the stratoscrapers and sky traffic. The view, especially this high up from the hospital window, transfixed him; like staring into a gigantic aquarium.

  So tired.

  His body was numb from weeks with little sleep, but the numbness ran deeper than that. This exhaustion was one of the toxic side effects from his life as a Journeyman; that is, he often found himself displaced from reality. Just a third-party voyeur into his own strange circumstance.

  An electronic whir snapped him back and he turned from the view portal. He hadn’t even heard Dr. Phineas Blehnt return, but there he was now stooped over the holographic medical display as it flickered in time with a body scan. Beneath the image, resting easily in her hospital pod, lay Alex’s fiancé, Valerie. This room had been their home for the past three sleepless weeks.

  The bio-scan analyzed subcutaneously, so what actually rotated before Alex and the Doctor was a visual construct of Valerie’s inner viscera. Real time blood maps flowed up one side and down the other on her digital anatomy. In the dim overhead light, the image cast a bluish glow about the room.

  “All right,” grunted Dr. Blehnt, sliding a fader bar to 100% on the touchpad. “The diagnosis has been activated, now we’ll see if there’s been any further metastasizing.”

  Alex watched the old man work. He was ancient. Alex could see the yellow glow in the left eye as it caught the light. Cyberbionic. Probably half of his body had been artificially upgraded. His arms and hands were, Alex could tell from the hairless silicone that passed for skin. He had brain implants, too. You could just make out the LED patch behind the left ear where his hair thinned.

  Wasn’t there anyone else that could be called on? Preferably someone who wasn’t dependent on techno crutches to perform? As the Journeymen learned the hard way back in Time-5, “a machine heart soon becomes a machine mind.”

  Time-5. This chronic syndrome never would have surfaced in the Earth of that time stream. As intergalactic war had fueled Time-1 and oceanic colonization fueled Time-4, so physical development fueled Time-5. That’s why overcrowding was that day’s big social concern, nobody died. Near perfect health had been achieved through medical breakthroughs and controlled breeding. If it hadn’t been for accidents and routine executions of the weak and underachievers, there would’ve been very little turnover.

  A hiss from the Doctor interrupted Alex’s reverie. “It’s spread to cardiovascular,” Dr. Blehnt seethed, punching some data into the scanner.

  Alex shifted his attention to the hologram and saw, one by one, different organs changing from the static blue haze to a blaring red hue as the analysis concluded.

  “What is—“

  “Not now,” the Doctor cut him off, brushing past him on his way to the large view portal. With a hand wave, the city view dissolved into a half-dozen smaller modules, each filled with data specs and notes and vitals on Valerie.

  Two short beeps announced an incoming transmission and Dr. Blehnt touched that module to bring it up full. A texted chiron on the lower left of the screen identified the young lady as “Dr. Yolanda Jansen, Experimental Oncology, Brig-Matteson Hospital Systems.”

  “I’ve been watching the holo-analysis,” Dr. Jansen began. “It confirms my team’s research. The symptoms Miss Grayson exhibits match - all the way to subatomic - with xTynt449 Mintomix.”

  Alex perked up at this news. He didn’t understand the medical jargon, but he was happy after all these weeks to finally have some sort of diagnosis at least. Alex studied Dr. Jansen for a clue as to whether this was good or bad news but it was no use. Her features were cold and unrevealing.

  Great, Val’s life is at stake and her future is in the hands of two robots.

  “How did you find it?” Dr. Blehnt asked, touching the corner window to unpack an information node. Research details expanded across the whole wall. “No one else has been able to nail anything down. Not even the Sigma team.”

  “I’m aware,” Dr. Jansen replied. “The HSA upgrade is too recent. We dug into the older BetaSyne IV program at the University.”

  “BetaSyne IV,” Dr. Blehnt whistled, “that database is a dinosaur.”

  Alex, who had done his own research, chimed in, “So, just give her a sonic booster and let’s go.”

  “This is way beyond sonic boosters, Alex,” Dr. Jansen said. “According to the limited data we have on xT449, it has been sanctioned as an extinct contagion for a thousand years now. There hasn’t been a single case of it in almost a millenium.”

  “Until now,” Alex said.

  “Still,” Dr. Jansen said, “it doesn’t explain why Valerie is the only scientist from her entire microbiology unit showing symptoms.”

  “I mean, she was the only one in the whole group that volunteered to dissect the worms they found,” Alex explained.

  “Curious,” the Doctor replied, studying the wall of data. “This says the nematodes - or worms as you call them - originated in the Mars biosphere project in its simulated rain forests.”

  “Yes,” Dr. Jansen added, “but that was abandoned 700 years ago and they stopped shipping Tetakadine enzymes back to earth. There hasn’t been a cure since then.”

  “Well,” Alex shrugged, “Everyone knows Generex has freighters going by there all the time. They can pick up the necessary ingredients on the way back to Earth.”

  “It’s not like stopping by the grocery store. Look, we’re already working out an arrangement with Generex,” Jansen sighed, “but, even if the jungles are still active, that could take time, manpower, and resources that we can’t afford.”

  “We’re talking about a life here,” Alex said evenly.

  “Yes, and we’re talking about an opportunity.”

  “Excuse me?” Alex couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  “A foreign syndrome that resurfaces like this after 1000 years,” Dr. Janson continued, “can provide invaluable data to our researchers and spark all sorts of new discoveries. Look at her right arm. Isn’t it true that the subject crushed an iron bar with her bare hand?”

  It was true. Alex looked at Valerie’s right arm. Spiderwebbed across it like some sort of techno tattoo were greenish vines all the way to her fi
ngertips. When he first brought her to the hospital she’d collapsed and grabbed at the closest thing to her and crumpled a hand rail like it was a tin can. She was frail and weak, but her arm was freakishly strong.

  “Ah,” Alex said. “Military opportunities, you mean. Either way, Valerie becomes a lab experiment and I’m out a fiancé, am I understanding the plan correctly?”

  Dr. Blehnt rested his artificial hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Listen, Alex, we’re working out every option here. That doesn’t mean we’re giving up on Valerie. Not while there may be a chance to save her.”

  Clichés. Alex used to arm himself with them and rain them out by the handful. Platitudes. Useful only for the dispenser, but to everyone else it was so much cotton candy; all sugar, no substance.

  Alex had changed so much since Time-1. Not by choice, by desperation. Evolve or die. Since then, the Earth had been re-booted ten times. Ten different space-time folds caused by ten time-travel singularities. In all, he’d lost four wives, eleven children and more friends than he could recall. That was the curse of the Journeymen. The remembering. To everyone else, this world was the way it had always and would ever be. But to the Journeymen, they remembered each and every one of those alternate Earths. Family after family had been torn from them and he refused to lose Valerie now.

  The Doc looked over the hologram, turning it and zooming into particular areas. “Of course, if we act quickly, we can replace these infected organs and tissues autonetically. And still keep the older tissue for R&D.”

  Alex followed the Doctor’s gaze to Valerie’s luminescent body-double. That would mean over half of her body, including one-third of her brain, would be bio-mech dependent.

  “No,” Alex said firmly. “I want a wife, not Bride of Frankenstein.”

  The Doctor stiffened. Alex could see he’d struck a nerve. Dr. Blehnt opened his mouth to speak.

  “Alex,” Dr. Jansen calmly interrupted, “that may be her only chance at life. Now, her records show that she is unmarried.”

  “For now, yeah, so…?” Alex eyed her carefully. He didn’t like the new tone.

  “So, in short order, you do not have legal authority in this area. The State, not you will decide what is in her best interest.”

  “Blaa flynckshen ga slavyl,” Alex muttered under his breath, seething. He felt so helpless. The State could in fact step in and do whatever they wanted. It was a helluva system. He clenched his fist and turned back to Valerie. “Doctor, I’d like a moment with your lab rat if the State has no objections.”

  “Doctor,” Dr. Jansen said, and with a gesture to her keypad, signed off.

  The wall-screen reverted back to the city view, leaving Dr. Jansen’s smug face etched in the back of Alex’s mind. Dr. Blehnt said something about checking back later, and walked out.

  Alex walked over to the hologram still rotating before him; the overwhelmingly red image coupled with Dr. Jansen’s threat made his blood boil. He slammed his fist down on a flashing button on the datapad and the hologram blinked out of sight. Moving to the padded seat at the bedside, he rested his forehead against Valerie’s quarantine chamber. He exhaled and his breath fogged the cool glass. He put a hand into the access portal and a thin membrane encircled his arm, allowing him to touch her hand; to feel her warmth without risking exposure to the Martian worm virus or whatever it was.

  Sigh. They wouldn’t understand. They couldn’t possibly understand. If they could only remember back to Time-3 as he could, they would understand. Back then, artificial upgrades had started out as critical health options, restoring limbs, organs; purely benevolent. The cyberneering worked so well, though, as prices dropped, people soon began to replace perfectly good body parts for superior robotics. The fad had spread like a wild-fire. At the point he had entered the time-stream, he himself was 80% synth, but he’d resisted the pressures to get brain implants.

  One year later, all those who had not been as cautious had been overpowered by a sleeper virus. The Fushinagi Syndicate. They rose up. An army of synth puppets which began their bloody trek to world domination. United under a shadow leader who called them his Perfect Artificial Race. The PARs were virtually unstoppable.

  Luckily someone experimenting with time travel achieved the technological singularity, time-shifted and that was the end of the Perfect Artificial Race. Earth rebooted and Time-6 began.

  “Alex,” came a weak voice beside him.

  “I’m here, Val,” he leaned in closer. “Can I get you anything?”

  “No,” she said, intertwining their fingers, careful not to squeeze. “I’m all right. I, I heard the doctors…”

  “Morons! They don’t know anything.”

  Alex saw the concerned look on Valerie’s face and softened. Now wasn’t the time to lose control. He had to be Valerie’s strength. “I just think they could be doing more,” he continued. “But they’re so set on bio-meds. It’s their answer for everything. I just… they’re headed in the wrong direction with this.”

  Valerie smiled. “Well, look who knows more than all the Doctors and Scientists! Come on, Alex, let them do their job.”

  Alex didn’t want to belabor the point with her, so he conceded. She needed to save her energy, anyway. He had never told her that he was a Journeyman. He’d never brought up the time-shifts and Earth’s proper history. Not that he was hiding it, he wanted her to know everything, the timing just never was quite right. With his other hand he played with a loose strand of her hair.

  “Listen, I don’t know why they’re even discussing robotics.” He traced his finger along the green vines on her skin. “I like your new gang tattoo and your super-villain karate-chop action.”

  She laughed, sputtered and then coughed a deep, throaty cough. Alex’s smile faded. Who was he kidding? She was out of time. Out of options. The thought of losing her made his heart ache. His feeble smile couldn’t mask his darkest fears.

  “Listen, this has been hard for both of us,” Valerie said, finally. “You’ve been here with me for weeks straight and you’re all tense…”

  “I’m not—“

  She put her hand over his tightly wadded fist.

  “You are. Go home, Alex. Get some rest, some decent food and for God’s sake please shower; then come back tomorrow first thing to me. I promise not to go anywhere or start shooting lasers out of my eyeballs without you,” Valerie soothed.

  She smiled that smile and, again, Alex conceded. She raised her hand to the glass where his face was, even though he couldn’t feel it.

  “I love you,” he said and kissed the glass. She pressed her fingers to the lip marks.

  “I love you! Hurry back.”

  Alex scooped up the small travel pack he had thrown together weeks ago and headed for the door. He stopped briefly in the doorway and looked back. Valerie had picked up a remote and triggered a morphine boost. The effects were instant as she closed her eyes to drift back into sleep.

  Alex reached the elevator, a torrent of unanswered questions ravaging his mind. Once inside he mumbled, “Hover Deck 5.” As the room ascended, he fastened his bio-mask into place which covered the lower half of his face. It activated automatically and the filtered air instantly became sweeter.

  Anger and sorrow waged a tug of war with his heart. Alex had to fight hard to keep centered because he was deliriously overdrawn emotionally; he reminded himself over and over that everything could be okay.

  As the doors whisked open, the glare from the afternoon sun smacked his face triggering his tactical inner lids; a protective layer that covered both eyes with a silvery shield. The afternoon heat was a thick wall that he slammed into headlong as he exited the coolness of the small chamber. Walking onto the deck, he acknowledged the sweating couple waiting to enter and slowly made his way to his hover car. Not everyone could afford the thermo-vests like he could which already began to cool his core.

  A loud persistent noise filled the air. Alex didn’t even have to turn to identify Generex’s array of cooling towers tw
enty-eight stories tall. Luckily, as noisy as they were, the city only had to run them a few hours a day to keep the city atmosphere pure enough for human inhalation; that is, if you trusted the State’s emissions standards. Here in Time-11, even the atmosphere was dependent on artificial intervention.

  “Voice print: Alex Caldwyn,” he spoke into the air.

  “Voice print: verified,” an automated voice answered, as the sleek, black Oryx class vehicle lowered its shielding system and sprang to life with a purr.

  Alex climbed into the cockpit of the car and the door slid closed behind him. On the dash was a coin-sized holo-projector. Alex rotated the base to activate it and the small scene sprang to life. The resolution was splendid and he saw the way Val’s hair fell softly around her face as she threw her head back laughing. That was the day they had gotten engaged. Her cheeks were pink, slightly sunburnt, and he noticed the sparkle in her blue-green eyes. So full of life. So long ago. Had it really been only a month since her first black out and fall? Now, her tangled, unkempt hair lay atop her pale face and her eyes, sunken deep into their sockets were a dull grey.

  Alex couldn’t hold back the dismal cloud any longer and it engulfed him. Like an ocean, tears coursed out of him in waves. For several minutes he slumped there crying, occasionally beating his fist against the dashboard, the door, the seat, anything and everything. After a minute, he swiped his eyes free of the stinging saltiness and pressed a flashing button on the monitor.

  “Alex, Mack McBride here. We were sorry to hear of Valerie’s condition, buddy. Take as much time off as you need, but keep us posted on any changes. I gave the Norvum Security account to Jaimie in your absence, so everything’s covered. Take care of Valerie, okay?”

  “Hmmm, the big kayhaala himself,” Alex sighed. “Not everyday you get a call from the VP. Thanks, Mack, I’m flattered. Send bonus credits.”