Smith Ohana

1. Auflage 2019
ISBN: 661-000014277-4
Verlag: Justin Smith
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 479 Seiten

In a sweeping panorama from the continent-spanning forests of Oz to the dystopian hell that is Pembroke, the Indigo tribe grows as they hire archaeologists to determine why their homeland of Oz is uninhabited. They uncover an ancient evil bent on destroying all other sentient life in the universe - one that exterminated cave men and other species on Oz. They also battle evil governments in other universes and establish themselves in a quaint but beautiful timeline.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Smith, Justin

Leseproben

“To see a World in a Grain of Sand, And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand, And Eternity in an hour.” — William Blake, from Auguries of Innocence. Chapter 1 “Isn’t it a pain in the ass when people you murder come back?” Derek asked the lady who answered the door. Confusion on her face gave way to mind-shattering terror. “I cremated you!” she wailed, fleeing into the house as Derek ambled after her. The place intrigued him. Its exterior was nondescript weathered gray stone, its architectural style like that of an old church. One half-expected to see gargoyles squatting on downspouts. Here, of course, the gargoyles lived inside, a middle-aged couple that had murdered dozens of street-people, students, their own son, and an unfortunate other version of Derek — all in their efforts to create a master-race. They had succeeded. Indeed, they had done so in ways they could never have imagined, ways that defied logic and the laws of physics. Today, he would deliver a morsel of retribution. Derek strolled down the long hallway past oil paintings of landscapes on the walls and entrances to the living room and dining room, the parquet floor creaking under his feet — until he reached the study’s massive oak door. He kicked it open. Books in darkly stained walnut bookcases lined the room, and a walnut desk stood in front of the French doors that opened out to the garden. Mrs. Pembroke cowered beneath it, sobbing. He was almost tempted to give her an explanation of what was happening. She didn’t deserve one. “Where are the red pills? The ones you created from my brain.” She howled. Derek scanned her mind and learned the pills were stored in liquid nitrogen in the basement laboratory. He teleported to the lab and spotted a cryogenic Dewar flask wrapped in mist on the workbench. He put on insulated gloves, grabbed it, and teleported home. *** Derek Evans was a husky, pale, six-foot four twenty-five-year old with brown hair and brown contact lenses. He teleported to a restroom on the second floor of the University of Chicago’s Oriental Institute and then joined Alessandra and Professor Andromeda Cole in her cluttered office. Piles of papers and old books covered most of the floor-space. Massive wooden shelves behind the desk held stone tablets with Egyptian hieroglyphics, a human skull covered with arcane symbols, and decaying scrolls. Derek’s wife, Alessandra — Allie — was a petite brunette with an olive complexion and a beautiful face marred by a scar on her right jaw-line — and brown contacts. Get the pills? Allie wordlessly beamed to him as he sat in the other guest chair. Yes. “Where is this site?” Professor Cole said. She was a middle aged woman with a rugged face in jeans and a blue denim blouse. Her gray hair was gathered in a ponytail. One could easily picture her living out of a tent in the Middle East with a coiled whip hanging from her belt. “It’s in Southern Africa, sort of,” Derek said. “Sort of? What does that mean?” “To explain that, I have to flip a coin,” Allie said, throwing a quarter in the air. She caught it and slapped it on the desk. “What’s the outcome?” she asked. “It came up heads, of course,” Professor Cole replied. “Why are we flipping coins? I thought you were going to explain…” “Wrong,” Allie said. “It came up heads and tails and, to a slight extent, landed on its edge.” “All in different universes,” Derek continued. “When an event has multiple outcomes, all possibilities occur in multiple copies of the universe. You split into several Andromeda Coles, each one seeing a different outcome.” “If you’ll excuse me,” Professor Cole muttered. “I have an urgent meeting on uh … Planet Earth.” Archaeologists are catnip for crackpots, she thought. Allie and Derek laughed. “Huh?” “It’s just that we have a cat named Norton,” Derek said. “And we should plant catnip in … at home.” “We’re crackpots with money,” Allie chuckled, fanning out a sheaf of hundred-dollar bills. “Just humor us a few more minutes.” Professor Cole stared at the money. “Please join us in this corner of the room,” Derek said, standing. “We want to demonstrate something.” Professor Cole eventually joined them, thinking, The sooner they leave the better. A flash of … discontinuity and … ecstasy followed. “What was that?” Professor Cole gasped. “It’s like something I experienced … long ago.” “The spirit world,” Allie said. “We tunneled through it.” They stood in a corner of Professor Cole’s office — and other versions of Derek and Allie sat in her guest chairs, while another Professor Cole sat at the desk. The two Professor Coles stared at each other in shock. “Tails,” the seated Allie said, pointing to the coin on the desk. “We have to return you to your original timeline,” Derek said. “There are two of you here and none of you there.” There was another flicker and the office now held three people, huddled in the corner. “Who … what the hell are you two?” she muttered, shaking. “You thought you need a drink,” Allie said. “So let’s get one, and we’ll answer your questions.” Are they reading my mind? Professor Cole thought. “Yes, we are telepaths,” Derek said. *** They walked to the Wabash Pub on the corner of Woodlawn and East 59th street — bordering the Midway Plaisance Park, its trees blazing gold and yellow on this crisp fall day. The place was almost empty. It was a dark wood-paneled bar with tables opposite the bar and pool tables in the back. On one wall, a large poster announced a Halloween party and dance at the University of Chicago student union. A jukebox blared American Pie. Looking at the poster, Derek felt a twinge of nostalgia. Longing for the days when we were young and foolish and full of hope? Allie beamed at him. “Aren’t we full of hope now, me amuri?” he said, his eyes tearing up. “Oh maniac, I love it when you talk Sicilian to me,” Allie sighed, tapping Derek on the shoulder. “You’re right of course. Our time has come.” Get a room, guys! Professor Cole thought. “We don’t need a room,” Allie whispered. “We have the Sea of Desire in the land of Oz.” “Believe it or not, that’s a place,” Derek said. When their eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting, they took a table. “God, I hate these things,” Allie muttered, removing her brown contact lenses. “I can’t imagine how people wear them all the time.” Professor Cole gasped when she saw Allie’s Indigo eyes, with irises sparkling like diamonds. Derek removed his contacts too. “That’s one of the most visible outward signs of Indigos like us,” Derek said. “Besides having no fingernails or toenails.” “Indigos?” “That’s what we call our species,” Allie said. “Homo Indicus.” “Your species?” “We are the result of genetic experiments,” Derek said. “In another timeline we call Origin,” Allie said. “Hi doc,” the bartender said, waiting on them. “Balvenie neat?” “You know me too well, Nick.” Derek and Allie ordered coffee, and Nick left. “Three keys to happiness,” Andy said. “True love, a good career, and a well-trained bartender.” “I can’t wait to be able to drink again,” Allie said, pointing to her pregnant belly. “When are you due?” “No idea,” Allie said. “I don’t know what our gestation period is. The funny part is I can see her being born.” Andromeda smiled. “In most futures, she’s born in the daytime and some, at night. Different times, different places.” “In most futures?” Andy said. “You literally see this?” “All I know is it’ll be amazing … and soon. Somewhere between a day and a month from now. Most important, she’ll be healthy.” “Our precognition doesn’t sync with calendars or clocks,” Derek said. “Vittoria will be our first natural-born,” Allie said. “Ever.” “You two weren’t natural-born?” “Doctor Pembroke gave me a DNA-altering virus,” Derek said. “Part of a bogus drug-study.” “Pembroke?” Professor Cole said. “The name sounds familiar.” “In our timeline, he was nominated for a Nobel prize in biology,” Derek said. “I remember! My ex was a biologist and she was always going on about what a genius Pembroke was.” “He was a monster,” Allie muttered. “He knew physics? I mean physics must be involved with going into timelines.” “No,” Derek said. “All he knew for sure was that we’d be telepaths. His lab animals became agitated whenever he thought of torturing them, and calmed down when he changed his mind.” “That’s horrible!” Nick served their drinks. “He got what he deserved...