.

Читать онлайн книгу.

 -


Скачать книгу
throw a bit more on,” Steve 5 offered, “Haven’t poisoned myself yet,” He added with a smile.

      “Thanks, never know when my next meal may be coming from,” I said; even though I had been only a part-time soldier a short time, I had already learned never pass up a meal or a rest.

      Good to his word he placed another container full into the pot that was heating on the stove. “While that is heating I’ll show you something.” Saying this, he moved to what looked like a TV screen at the end of the room and typed something on a typewriter keyboard, “Here read this.”

      Doing so, I was surprised to see my adventure written; up to the visit to the Aboriginal world. If not in the precise words, close enough to recognise what had occurred.

      “That’s as far as I have been so far, keep losing books and computer discs, I have other fragments in the books that I scribble ideas.” Handing me a couple of notebooks, I read points about sleep rays and force shields, and of the theory behind the gateway used in the lifts.

      I brought Steve 5 up to date on my adventure. He agreed that was the direction that the story was headed and added a couple of possibilities as to my progress to an ultimate scenario of the embodiment of the technology into our lives. This information delivered with a wry smile as the chance apparently had passed him. “Not to worry, I have been content with my lot, having had a career in aviation and electronics repair. Too bad the Chinese now make TVs too cheap to bother repairing nowadays.”

      Reminiscing he said, “In your day the TV repairman arrived in a Rolls-Royce and would have the red carpet put out for him.” Laughing he added, ”By the time I started, the repair bill was still the same as over 30 years before; but they now complain of the cost. The repair cost in dollars was stable over the years not rising at all despite inflation; that is until the Chinese began making cheap TVs, making it cheaper to replace not repair. After closing the shop, I worked a couple of years as a civilian on Army helicopters. Loved the job but the contract was changed, and because I had annoyed Major Mac, I was put on the ‘B’ list; be somewhere else. Restarted a repair business, worked part-time in a TV repair shop and just to make life complicated started Taxi driving. The part-time shop closed and then I was offered a job full-time at another workshop. I am separated from Wendy though since I am always on call not that much apart. Did a years’ Bible College almost qualified as a Pastor; I will let you know doing homework at my age was a shock to the system. Then the bottom dropped out of TV repair, so I have now taken up full-time taxi driving. Not that it is bad, you meet a lot of different people, and now that I do the days, they are usually sober. The pay is not great, but with the service pension, I do well enough.”

      Having finished the stew, I agreed that it was not likely to kill me and was nearly as good as Dad makes.

      “I keep trying, one of these days I may crack the formula,” Steve 5 laughed and then asked, “Do you want to be dropped back to the Heritage Center or stay the night?”

      “I suppose I had better keep moving, still early in the day for me. Either I find my home or run into Silvertoe again. Thanks for the meal and the talk. What’s the chance of a lift?” I asked.

      “Yep no problem, come out to the car, and we can drive downtown,” He answered as he grabbed the car keys. “I just had a thought; if I can talk with Silvertoe, perhaps I can set something up for me here.” We then headed out the door.

      The red car that I had seen before was a Mazda 2. He had carried three adults and two children down to Sydney in January with no problems. So there is no effort with just the two of us. The Heritage building was still open; we located, then entered the lift.

      As I exited this time and looking at the next door, around the corner came the being with the ‘devil head’. “Darn not him again,” I grumbled as I ducked into the next lift to avoid any confrontation. Steve 6 stepped up to him to intercept, waving goodbye to me.

      While the door opened as normal, I could see that the outside street was deserted, dirty with weeds growing in every crack. Not my world or time, but I thought I couldn’t go straight back, or I will run into devil head. Cautiously looking about I walked down the road trying to work out where I was. Could have been Sydney by the buildings, but deserted and very neglected. Determined not lose the sight of my lift I very tentatively explored the local area. A tattered newspaper billboard proclaimed martial law because of the epidemic. Part of the date was seventy-something; not reassuring or helpful. It may have been any time after that, according to the condition of the paper; even though the poster had been covered at some stage. Rustlings and dog howls echoing among the buildings put the hairs up on the back of my neck. Hoping that enough time had passed, I retreated to the elevator, re-entered, and activated the buttons. The doors rattled as something large ran into it just as the travel sensation moved me away.

      Returning to Silvertoe’s world, I peeked past the doors and was relieved that the corridor was empty. So not waiting, I selected the next door and proceeded with the exploration. By now I was operating by habit, writing the symbols and position down for both the previous and now current with the comment about the last indicating that it would be avoided. Entering this `lift,' I went through the routine of pushing the #M and waiting for the disturbing sensations to subside and the door to open. `Ah, Toowoomba again’ I thought; as the corridor was the now familiar Heritage building which I had visited already. Checking the local date at the news agency it was about eight years later than the last time which would make `me’ about 66.

      So off to the phone box to investigate, there was Wendy's phone and still no reference to my name. This lack wasn’t getting me home; so I rang and enquired, the information given was that Steve was driving his cab at the moment and that she would tell him that his cousin would be waiting at the Heritage Building. Thanking her, I hung up the phone and waited. After a few minutes, a taxi pulled up and parked, hopping out was a beardless and white-haired `me’, reminiscent of both Dad and Grandpa.

      “Hi, Wendy rang and told me that I had a cousin waiting. Not that I remember any by that name, so here I am. Would you like to remind me who you are?” Steve 6 asked.

      “I am not our cousin; I am you from another world,” I answered, and then asked, “Have you been writing about the parallel worlds by any chance?”

      A look of comprehension came over his face as he said, “Oh the penny drops, and you are that lost soul that is looking to get home. That’s just ahead of the book where I have gotten to, but cheer up life should get interesting from now on.” Then he mused, “So the dream has a reality, pity I am almost past the time to take advantage. Still, I shouldn’t complain; I have had an enjoyable life which is far from over and not being a ‘Walter Mitty’ type, I haven’t tried to live out my dreams. Perhaps I may even have the option of getting a late education after Algy has finished.”

      I wasn’t happy with the idea that further adventure would be reassuring and returned, “Sounds great I think, but I am getting used to it.”

      “What I can tell you is that the journey is at a stage where it will become apparent, that the future is right,” He assured me, “So back into the breach and shortly you will be at the intermediate stop. So see you round like a rissole, eh-eh!”

      I was just a little worried that perhaps as I get older that I may lose the plot. I farewelled Steve 6 and re-entered the lift to continue the travel. Perhaps it will be home as I hoped he meant.

      The Way Becomes Clear

      By now I had marked nine or ten worlds on my list and had confirmed that my counterparts seem to be the one common factor.

      Not exactly reassuring but “Hey I'm famous,” The man said as the folk hauled him out of town on a horse rail, covered in tar and feathers, "If it weren't for the honour, I would sooner forego being the centre of attention."

      So here I was marking off another set of symbols before trying the next world.

      Crossing my fingers that this was it, by now I was baffled and couldn't even backtrack to Silvertoe's office. Perhaps I should cross my toes as well.

      The doors slid


Скачать книгу