Though this story begins in our contemporary Europe, it features a number of 'alternate' versions of our world in which history has gone down different paths leading to slightly different societies.
The Road Not Taken
By Tang.
Part One
Though Abigail, Abi to her colleagues, had been a little sceptical about taking Mr. Harman to Dusseldorf airport she had accepted Natalie Miller's encouragement to do so and now was glad she had agreed. Abi had no idea why it had been decided to hold the librarians' conference in such an out of the way part of Germany, but the scenery and the quietness of the place had won her over to the idea. It did mean, however, hiring a car and driving down back roads to reach the airport as she was still doing now. Fortunately Mr. Harman, she had not caught his first name, was doing the map reading. Like herself, he had turned out to be a fan of science fiction, though whereas Abigail preferred classic space operas, he favoured ‘what if?’ stories.
“That’s not real science fiction, where’s the science?” Abi asked.
“Well, with a ‘what if?’ you can end up with a very different science. Imagine if steam cars had been widely adopted long before the invention of the internal combustion engine, what kind of vehicle might we be in now? Then of course there are the post-apocalyptic ‘what ifs?’: if the Third World War had broken out in 1948 we might be trying to drive through an irradiated wasteland and you’d accept such a setting could be basis for science fiction.”
“I suppose so.”
“Then what about those who use technology to go between different versions of our world? There’s enough stories like that. Surely a story about someone who has a machine to go sidewards in time is as much decent science fiction as H.G. Wells’ ‘The Time Machine’. There’s often someone from our world in such stories to show up the differences between ours and the alternate version.”
“Yes, I concede that, though it can also be the result of some force or some natural phenomenon.”
“Yes, accepted. Well then, let’s just agree we both like speculative fiction and contemplating it is good exercise for the mind.”
“That sounds fine.”
Harman fell silent and looked down at the map. Abi glanced over and noticed it was not the one she had given him and guessed it was his own that he favoured. He was not a young man and she wondered how good his eyesight was. He muttered something to himself and reached into the bag he had insisted on keeping at his feet. Abi caught sight of something flashing inside and wondered what it was, but for the moment she returned her attention to the road ahead. She realised she had taken the corner a little too fast and the car was slewing across the road.
“Hold on.” Abi cried.
The sudden movement jolted Harman against the door of the hire car. As he was jerked around his hands clumsily snatched at his bag exposing shiny metal from inside. Abi regained control of the car. Her breathing was heavy and she let the vehicle slow.
“Are you alright?” Abi asked genuinely worried.
“Erm, yes, I think so. Though I believe we may have triggered something a little earlier than I had anticipated.”
“Right.” Abi did not really know what he meant and by now was being sure to keep her eyes on the road.
“Turn the next corner and pull over into the lay-by.” Harman said rather strictly.
“Okay.” Abi agreed still rather concerned that thee old man had been harmed by her rather careless driving.
Abi turned the corner and the road levelled out. For the first time in about forty minutes they were clear of the trees and there was a good view of the valley below. Abi guessed Harman knew this vista was here; maybe he had even deliberately brought Abi in this direction. Well, she could not complain, they were well on schedule to catch the aeroplane even if they made a few stops. She pulled the car off the road into the long thin lay-by and killed the engine.
“Now, now I can do things properly.” Harman said and jabbed a few buttons on the device he held.
Before Abi could question him the scene around her seemed to ripple as if they had been dropped right into a mirage. For a moment Abi worried that she was ill, that she was going to be sick. However, almost as quickly as it had occurred things seemed clearer and she could again clearly make out the lay-by and the view across the road from it.
“Are you alright?” It was Harman’s turn to ask.
“Yes, erm, yes, I think so. I must have been driving for too long. We need to get out and …”
Abi’s voice trailed off. She realised she must be tired, she had just noticed the woman standing by a silver sports car at the other end of the lay-by. How had Abi missed her? She shook her head, glad she had pulled over now. She must be pretty tired and realised that as a result she could easily have hit the woman.
The woman seemed not to be moving, Abi guessed she was lost in contemplating the view and had not even heard the car approach. From this distance she seemed about Abi’s age, maybe a little younger. She would be Abi’s height too, she guessed. Her hair was dark brown and pulled into a tight ponytail, which, like Abi’s hair if it was ever allowed to hang so freely, stretched halfway down her back. She wore fashionable wraparound sunglasses and silver disc earrings hung from each ear. At first Abi thought she wore overalls but as she looked harder she saw that the outfit was more in keeping with the sleek, silver convertible sports car she was resting against. She wore long shiny black boots that stretched just over her knee and a skin-tight catsuit of a dark pewter colour; it clung tightly to her shapely body. The clothes seemed a little exotic, certainly sexy and no doubt in keeping with a woman who drove a car like that.
“I, I didn’t see her there.” Abi confessed.
“No, don’t worry, she wasn’t there a few moments ago.” Harman replied with a chuckle.
With the engine stopped Abi now looked at the man more closely. A strange flat oval piece of electronics sat in his lap. A couple of bright lights flickered on it. Harman was reading some figures off its display. Apparently satisfied he turned his head to face Abi.
“What is that? You’re not a librarian are you?” Abi asked quickly.
Harman smiled. “I used to be, but no, that’s not my occupation now. These days, I’m more, I’m more of a traveller.”
“So where are you from?”
“London, though one very different from the one you know.”
“Okay. I guess all that discussion earlier was to ready me for the fact that you were going to jump us between worlds, am I right?”
“Well, you’re a lot less nonplussed than I would have anticipated, even for a science fiction fan.”
“Don’t let my surface appearance mislead you, my mind and my heart are running nineteen to the dozen. I’m thinking what does that guy think he’s doing? Is this all some kind of game or is it for real? Women and sports cars do not appear out of thin air and it’s very suspicious when the stranger beside you’s wielding some bit of technology you’ve never seen before. I hardly think you’d bring the latest TV remote to a library conference in rural Germany.”
“Yes, yes, you’ve captured the situation very quickly. We’ve shifted between versions of Earth, as you can imagine it’s safer where there are fewer people around.”
“But you’ve dropped us right in front of that woman.”
“Well, she doesn’t look too surprised does she? Do you know why that is?”
“Erm, either you’ve stunned her with that controller there, or it’s something to do with the effect of the shift.”
“Yes, we’re not fully through, it holds up the passage of time for a while until I have everything in place.”
“And we’ll be gone before the next second passes here?”
“Yes, you’re partially right.”
“Well, as we have the time, give me a chance to capture my breath before we put your plan into action. I imagine I have little choice in the matter.” Abi said resignedly. “Where are we anyway? It doesn’t look too different to my Earth. Maybe that woman’s clothes are a bit outlandish, but Germans in my version of the World quite like long leather boots and the odd catsuit.”
“No, we’re very close to your version of the World, you’d probably not notice many differences.”
“So, I guess you’re not from here, we don’t have anything like what you’re obviously holding from where I come from.”
“No, my home plane, my version of the World is quite a lot farther away. In my version of Earth the industrial revolution started in the early 16th century, in the cities of northern Italy and the Hansa cities of Germany. By the time you were deep in the English Civil War express trains were running from Hamburg to Rome in my world. You had the Great Exhibition in 1851, that year we celebrated the centenary of the first landing on Mars.”
“This world and mine must seem a bit primitive. So why are you here in particular?”
“I am old fashioned. There are people in your world who would be fascinated with going back a few hundred years in time, I can achieve it by going sideways. Of course I could go further. There are thousands of versions of the World where the middle ages are still in place; thousands more where humans have not moved much beyond apes; others where they do not exist at all. For me, though, coming to the cluster of worlds around yours is like you going back to the Victorian period. It is not that cold, smelly and uncomfortable. Things are a little more risky, slightly less luxurious, but that adds to the excitement, the sense of adventure. Here, also I can travel around reasonably quickly; I’m not dependent on horse-drawn transport. Sometimes I need to move quite fast, to alter some things for the better, and yet not everything here is so sewed up by machines. I cannot travel in time. It will be 2006 and next year 2007 and so on, but I can experience a very different, almost historical kind of life and help people out here and there.”
“What is important in changing the events in one version of the world when there are infinite ones to play with?”
“Good point. Partly, because I like to see if I can. In addition, the versions are not that far apart in many cases. People always comment on the divides, but what about the re-fusion? The multiverse is not wasteful. So you decide to have your hair cut today or next week, two months from now how much difference will that make? A war starts a month, even a year earlier or later, people still die; buildings are still ravaged. This is happening constantly. People you meet might actually be from initially quite a different version of the world to you, but over time the differences have been rubbed off, the human mind is well adapted to fitting in with the ‘truth’ of where it is located. Why do you think people are so forgetful and confused most of the time? One problem writers of ‘what if?’ stories find these days is that too few people know what really happened anyway in history, to see any interest in their speculations.”
“Right, so I am here, to help out another version of myself, because if not, you are going to get a chain of events that is so serious it will not erode away?”
Harman nodded. “If I told you, you had to replace someone in the past and it meant that AIDS did not appear in the World, would you do it?”
Abi paused. “But how do I know that that will happen? How do I know you are telling the truth? This might be some evil plan to ruin the world.”
“You do not know if I am telling the truth. As for evil plans, they are easy, I do not need people’s help to achieve that. Doing good is much harder. It needs more active participation.”
“All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.”
“Yes, but for good to triumph needs good women to do something, see?” Harman seemed to be enjoying his explanation and how quickly Abi was picking it up. “Working good here will not only help this version of the world, one that butts right up on your own, but will begin drawing in others close by too and improving them. There is an asteroid heading towards Earth. That is a fact for quite a number of Earths. In some versions it has had an easier passage around the solar system so has already arrived. It is not a big one but the disease it carries is going to make AIDS, smallpox, bubonic plague look easy. Earth has long been hit by such things, but this one is bad. There is one scientist currently working on developments which could treat it, but within the next few days she is going to die. She is dead in your version of the world already, she committed suicide three years ago; here that will not happen, I think, until sometime in the coming week. Her take on modifying viruses is not commonly accepted. If it gains ground in this version of the world, there is a good chance it will do so in many other nearby worlds.”
“Including mine?”
“Yes.”
“So I go along with your plan and prevent millions suffering. That simple?”
“Yes, I think so. There is never guaranteed success, but I do know that if we do not try the likely outcome is assuredly bleak. The woman over there has already driven along this road in many versions of Earth and crashed fatally. Here, due to slightly different work demands, a fault in her car and so on, she is a few days late, but unless you intervene she will die a few kilometres from here; Dr. Olinda Farber will take her own life as a result, I imagine, by the end of the week.”
“Right, so you want me to go over there and offer to drive that woman so she does not crash off the road up ahead. Surely you could ask her yourself, she would be bound to drive slower if a respectable old man asked for a lift.”
“Well, you’re almost right. However, it has to be you. You’re going to drive that car and as your head is not buzzing with the same kind of concerns as hers, and you understand the dangers you are facing, then I trust you will get there in one piece.”
“So you picked me for my driving?”
Harman laughed a little. “No, I think your standard is close to hers. However, your head is clearer.”
“So she’s doing drugs, drink?”
“No, not that, not today anyway, just with the business she’s in, her head’s always buzzing with ideas and she gets too distracted, and, as I said, she feels she is a few days late, she’s keen to get there quickly. I imagine you’ve not got such concerns.”
“I’ve got a ‘plane to catch. Or I guess that’s not going to be the case.”
“Oh, you’ll be on the ‘plane.”
“So this is a quick job?”
“Not really, it’ll be about a week before I can collect you.”
“Uh?”
“Well, there are many versions of yourself, I’m just going to be putting them to work in different worlds for a while.”
“So, you’ve convinced another ‘me’ to stand in and get on that flight?”
Harman nodded.
“And … you’re not saying? That woman over there is a version of me?”
“Yes.”
“It can’t be. Look at me. She and I look nothing the same.”
“You’re at a distance and the differences are only superficial. Even your weight and your hair length are currently the same. I could not pick on any version of yourself, it had to be one that could pass herself off as this one.”
“But, but, but, how did I end up driving around in a sports car dressed like that? The economy, fashions must be very different.”
“No, the greatest differences are in the routes of the life you chose. Do you remember that day seven years’ ago when you had two interviews on the same day and you had to choose between them?”
“Erm, yes. One was to train as a librarian, the other was on a magazine. I was worried the magazine would go out of business. So you’re saying she chose the magazine?”
“It was a woman’s magazine, wasn’t it? She, you, as the youngest member of the team soon ended up doing articles on fashion and then there was no stopping you. Now Gail Powell is at fashion shows across the World. Her views can make or break a designer.”
“Oh, okay. I guess that show’s we were quite different. I could never pull off something like that.”
“Don’t believe that. Your backgrounds are identical until seven years ago. A different choice on that day would have put you here.”
“And about to crash off the road?”
“Quite possibly.”
Abi fell silent.
“So, how do you think I can pull this off? I’m not her. She couldn’t analyse readership statistics and I couldn’t comment on the latest fashions and yet you want me to take over from her.”
“Yes, but it’s going to be less of a challenge than you think. Of course, you need to be up to speed with Gail’s life, otherwise your blunders may cause more problems than they solve. Just a moment.”
Harman reached down to his machine and from a slot in the side emerged a series of coloured cylindrical glass beads. They were strung together with a slender metal chain.
“Good, that includes everything from the last few weeks, right up until now.”
“What, what have you got there?”
“These are Gail’s memories. I scanned her a couple of months ago, but initiated an update when we arrived, so they hold everything up until that moment.”
Harman rested the string of beads in the palm of his hand. With his other hand he pointed to each in turn.
"These are the memories I've copied from Gail's mind. I've put them into rough groups. By crushing a bead you will release those memories into your own mind. Be careful though, if you release all of them, then you will deluge your own memories and you'd not be able to remember you were anyone except Gail. Only use those which you need to make your story convincing. This clear one holds the memories that Gail and you share, up to when you were twenty-one. That was when the big divergence came, she went into the fashion industry, you into librarianship. Of course, in the meantime she might have built up a different view of those events, but I guess you will not go too far wrong relying on your own memories for those sections.
"Now, these other coloured beads cover memories of the past seven years, and they will be different. This maroon one holds her career-related memories, I doubt you'll need those whilst here, you’re supposed to be on holiday. It might help, though, if you appear interested more in fashion than books. This small silver one is technical skills, and you may need that to drive this car and to operate her computer, but again, you should be able to get by. I've separated the password and PIN number memories into the smaller grey one. I suggest you crush that one when you need it. The blue one holds names and places, that’s so you won’t get lost driving to Olinda’s house.
This orange one covers tastes in clothes, food, etc. That one is probably useful to you as you are going to be visiting someone who knows her well. As you see, her tastes in clothing are different from yours and the inexperienced will struggle to get into an outfit like that easily. This cream coloured one covers her friends and the beige one, her family. Though her family is the same as yours, again, I imagine she sees them slightly differently. You should also be able get by without this one for these few days. It is this final one, the pink one, which is probably going to be most in use as it is Gail's lover rather than one of her friends you are going to be seeing up there. The pink one covers sexuality, including lovers and their tastes."
"If she's me, though, I can't believe she'd be too perverse." Abi chipped in, partly to reassure herself.
"Well, she has been in a completely different industry to you with very different opportunities and encounters. If it does not sound rude, you have not come across as a woman with much sexual experience and yet looking at Gail, simply dressed like that, I think you would agree she is far more in command of her sexuality."
Abi glanced at the frozen Gail. She did not want to admit it, but Harman was probably right. Then something dawned on her.
“Hang on. Olinda, is that a woman’s name?”
Harman hesitated then nodded.
“So she, me, she’s a lesbian?”
“Yes. Aren’t you?”
“No.” Abi responded firmly. “You’re expecting me to step into that woman’s shoes, boots, whatever and head off for a night of passion with a woman?”
This time Harman made no gesture.
“I was uncertain about your sexuality. You’ve got no wedding ring; at the conference you didn’t telephone anyone. I assumed that because Gail liked women you probably did too.”
“So you think all librarians are lesbians? Just because so many of them are women?”
Harman shook his head. “No, I know the bulk of them are happily married. In most worlds female librarians have numerous children; they’re in comfortable, well-established jobs. Many others stay single, I know that too.”
“I can’t accept that she is a version of me and she is gay. Surely that kind of thing is hardwired in from birth?”
“Well that’s one view; another’s that sexuality is a social construct. Have you ever had a sexual encounter with a woman?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then how do you know you wouldn’t like it? Most people are on a sexual continuum, there’s a bit of attraction to the same sex in all of us, it’s just stronger in some people.”
“Something must have happened in her childhood.”
“Well if it did, it happened in yours too. I imagine she got to know a nice woman whilst working on the magazine, maybe they flat-shared, it’s expensive living in London. Maybe on a cold night they shared a bed to watch some movies and got a little drunk and found they enjoyed the results and from then on the other bedroom was left empty. I don’t know but it’ll be in here. Probe your mind when you crack the bead.”
“No, no, I’m sorry, I can’t do that. It’s not me, you’re asking me to assume someone else’s identity, take in all their memories.”
“Would that be so wrong? Gail has an exciting life.”
“And you’re saying that mine is dull?”
“Well, you are driving back from a librarians’ conference giving a lift to a man old enough to be your grandfather; so keen to leave your one trip abroad this year to escape back to the safety of your flat. It hardly sounds that thrilling.”
“Get out. No, get me back to my world, then get out. I’m not going to be played with.”
“I’m sorry I can’t do that. Too much has gone into this. I know once you take over from Gail you’ll enjoy it.”
“Stop, now! Press those buttons and get me back to where I came from.”
Abi heard no reply, instead her vision went blurred then black and her whole body felt as if she had been dropped head first into cold water.
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