Chapter 1

Author's note:

This story takes place in a Type 3 universe. See the end of this chapter for details on the possible types of multiple universes.

I love to ride my motorcycle. It's one of the few pleasures I have left after a life of military service, mostly in Special Ops. I lost my right leg at the hip and my left leg at the knee as the result of an IED (Improvised Explosive Device) in Iran. The bionic legs they fitted me with work great as long as I do routine things, but hunting and trout fishing are out of the question. However, I can still sit in the saddle of my motorcycle and whiz around the country as if I didn't have a care in the world.

On this trip, I was tooling through the Sierra Nevadas toward Lake Tahoe. I was in no hurry, so I was on some backroads and even trails as I went. Any fool could use the Interstate, but I was a super fool and wanted to make an adventure out of the trip, itself. In this particular case, I was tooling up a long grade with a curve in it just near the summit. The only protection for the outside berm of the road was a low Jersey barrier about a foot high.

I went around the curve at about 60 MPH (100 KPH) when I hit a small sand pile. I was leaning way over, since it was a fairly sharp curve with a 30 MPH speed limit. Well, I hit that sand and slid into the Jersey barrier. The barrier was designed to stop cars and trucks, not idiots on motorcycles, so my bike and I went flying over the barrier and into empty space. The nearest ground was behind me about 40 feet or so, but I was headed for a little river close to 500 feet down. I had time to know that this little escapade was going to finish what that IED had started before I blacked out.

I woke up in what had to be a hospital room, but it was not like any I had ever seen before. Of course, it was painted a pale green, all four walls, the floor, and the ceiling. I was lying in the fanciest hospital bed I had ever seen, and, believe me, I've seen a lot of them in my life. There were no wires connected to me, but there was kind of a hood-like contraption hanging over me, and there was a bank of display screens on two walls which appeared to be displaying things like blood pressure, pulse rate, EKG, and who knows what else. I heard a soft chime as I tried to move.

Only moments later, a man came through the door and flipped the sheet off my legs. I felt him touch my left big toe and heard him say, "Please try to move this toe for me."

Without thinking, I followed instructions, and then it dawned on me—I didn't have a big toe to move! What the shit was going on? I felt the pressure of his fingers against my foot, so I knew something weird had happened. He repeated the request for the other foot and I complied. Suddenly, I was so full of questions that I was about to burst!

The man said, "I am Dr. Ursaw. And yes, you have regrown your legs. Be patient and I will explain. We snatched you from a surely fatal accident and repaired your body to a better than new condition. We induced your body to grow new legs, teeth, and a few other things that were about to fail. You were in good shape for a 48 year old man, but we restored you to the condition of a 26 year old. However, your face looks about 35 years old. Incidentally, you will continue to look like that until the day you die. Furthermore, you body is now self-repairing, so that you are functionally immortal.

"Oh, you can still be killed. Decapitation or smothering are the two most likely possibilities, but a little care on your part should prevent that. For example, I am currently 734 years old, but I had my age frozen at 35 to make me more reassuring to my patients."

"I am especially happy to get my legs back, so don't get me wrong when I ask why you have gone to so much effort in my behalf. You must want something from me in return."

A man walked in just as I had spoken. "You are right about that, and I am here to explain what we have in mind." This gentleman, and I could not describe him any other way, was dressed in an obviously military uniform. He had a air of command about him that was nearly sufficient to make me jump out of bed and stand at attention. The only reason I didn't was that I was naked under the sheet, and I would have embarrassed both of us if I had jumped up undressed like that. He was introduced as General Joval Isrult.

"Well, Capt. John McDonald, I am glad that you are about ready to rejoin us among the land of the living. Yes, we have done an extensive background check on you, and we know all about your prior military service, including the Silver Star and the Medal of Honor.

"We are in great need of your skills in Special Operations. A situation has come up for which none of our people are as well trained as you to cope. We hope that you will agree to help us. I will give you the broad picture and I will send in some specialists to fill in the details.

"As should be obvious, we are not of your world. In fact, this is not your home time line. An infinite number of time lines exist, and more are being created all of the time. Every time there is a decision to be made with a clear cut single pair of alternatives, both alternatives are followed. A new time line is created to accommodate the two choices, so we know that you will join us, either in this one or in the alternate time line which will be created. I know that it is confusing, but take my word for it at the moment.

"We need your help in fighting people from another time line who have moved in on a peaceful, agrarian society and are capturing them for use as sex slaves. Our culture finds that practice especially abhorrent, and we intend to put a stop to their invasion and enslavement. We want you to go in and organize guerrilla bands to fight the invaders. We know that you did that much of your working military life, and we hope that you will take on the same task for us. What do you say?"

"Well, I guess it really doesn't matter what I say, since there is a time line where I do work for you. OK, Sir, I'll join you. When do I start?"

"Excellent! I know that you can't tell it from inside this hospital, but it is quite late in the day, so we will start you off first thing tomorrow morning. You will need some physical therapy to regain complete command of your new legs, so we will work that in while we are getting you outfitted and generally organized. Lt. Hasup Ordell will come by tomorrow to get everything started and to fill you in on the details of what needs to be done. I probably will not see you again for some time, but I want you to know how much we appreciate your help. Thank you, and good night."

Gen. Isrult did a smart about-face and marched away before I could say anything else, so that effectively ended the discussion.

The next morning, a nurse helped me to dress in a uniform which fit very well, though I had no idea what the rank and other insignia denoted. I discovered that I no longer needed to shave, so that alone was worth a hell of a lot to me! I was wondering when breakfast would be served when a beautiful young woman walked into my room. She, too, was in uniform. She stopped in front of me and rendered what I would call a British-style salute. I returned the salute in my USA style, since I did not know what else to do.

"Capt. McDonald, I am Lt. Hasup Ordell. Would you please come with me so that we may eat breakfast."

That invitation, especially coming from a beautiful woman, was bound to get my unequivocal cooperation. The halls were crowded, so I spent most of my time trying not to bump into the other people in the corridors, and had no time for casual conversation. We eventually reached a dining room, and she led me to a table.

"This dining room is the only one in our present facility which caters to people from other time lines, so that is why I brought us here. If you are patient, they can provide us a breakfast that fits all of your dietary customs and needs. Just order whatever you want, and they will get it for you."

"That is fantastic! I normally eat what I call a Southern country home breakfast, so I hope that doesn't put too much of a strain on them." Hasup pointed to a microphone and told me to give my order into that. I nodded and ordered scrambled eggs, grits, ham, toast with butter, and coffee. I was asked to spell "grits," so I did. Hasup ordered her breakfast, and we waited for them to be delivered.

While we waited, she gave me a rundown on rank insignia and that sort of thing. Again, I was surprised that it was almost identical to that used by the British Army. It was an interesting parallel, and I wondered at its significance. I found out that my rank had been established as captain, because that was considered appropriate for my new job. However, there was no reason why I could not be promoted as conditions warranted.

We talked generalities of the culture that I was now living in. I found out that it was a world-wide constitutional monarchy with a parliament. The monarch's position was mostly ceremonial, but it did carry a lot of moral weight when it came to high policy decisions. Currently, the monarch was a king, but there had been reigning queens. There was complete legal equality between the sexes, and cultural equality as well, in most cases. Polygamy and polyandry were common, even both in the same household. Most of the inequality was in the home, where women usually had the final say. I thought to myself, "So what's new?" but I didn't say anything.

Hasup apologized for the rather long delay in delivering my breakfast, but I told her that I completely understood the problems the kitchen would have had. The food was excellent, with the only complaint being that there was not enough salt in the grits to my taste, but that was common, anyway, even at home.

We swapped tastes of each other's food, and I found hers to be completely palatable, so I said that I would have a regular local breakfast tomorrow. I could see the relieved look on Hasup's face at that, but I didn't say anything, though I did wonder why she would react that way.

We talked about the people who called themselves Inglets and were being taken as sex slaves by the Bustols. It seems that the Bustols were a people derived from Arab slave traders, and they had no compunction about enslaving anyone they could overpower. On the other hand, the Inglets were derived from the earliest wave of people from Asia who had populated the Americas. They were not very aggressive, sort of a live and let live bunch who could and would get along with anybody, if given the chance. Unfortunately, the Bustols were not giving them the chance!