Gambit

Jacob Kaine breathed in deep. The evening air had a crisp bite typical for New York in the late fall. He liked this time of year, especially how the leaves on the trees changed colour, the uniform green replaced with warm hues of red and orange. The sky also seemed bluer and the air cleaner. It was as though nature was hinting at the renewal of life that would follow winter. He smiled. Renewal. Yes, tonight was the night.

‘You can’t run forever. There was no escape. That’s what they wanted you to believe. But what if you didn’t have to run in the first place?

The red neon light that spelled ‘TONY’S BAR’ glimmered invitingly from across the street. The ‘AND GRILL’ part of the neon sign had been disconnected, he noted idly. Funny, he thought to himself, he’d been a regular for the past month and had never noticed this detail before. Jacob looked left then right, stepped off the kerb and walked briskly toward the bar. He pushed open the timber framed glass door and was immediately hit by the heady aroma of spirits, beer, and pretzels mixed with the acrid smell of tobacco smoke. The door closed automatically behind him, and he looked around. Besides the regulars seated at the bar and a young couple canoodling in one of the booths, the place was empty—typical for a midweek night. His eyes drifted over to the far end of the bar. Bill Kaine, the man he’d been studying so intently these past weeks, sat at his usual spot. Perfect, everything was as he’d planned.

He strolled nonchalantly over to the stool next to his target.

“Evening,” he said. “This seat taken?”

Bill Kaine looked up from his almost empty beer glass and offered a perfunctory nod.

“Nope.”

“You mind if I sit here?”

“It’s a free country.”

“Thank you,” said Jacob and sat down.

Harry, the bartender, walked over.

“Hey, Frank,” he said to Jacob. “Will it be the usual?”

“Hi, Harry,” said Jacob. “Maybe just a beer tonight, thanks.”

He looked over at Bill’s now empty glass.

“Oh, and another one for my friend over here.”

“Coming right up,” nodded Harry.

“No disrespect intended, friend, but why buy me a beer?” enquired Bill, eyeing the stranger warily.

“None taken,” smiled Jacob. “Let’s just say I’ve had a below average day, and I don’t feel like drinking alone.”

“Sounds like every day to me,” nodded Bill, “Problem at work?”

“Yeah, boss is an asshole.”

“Sounds like we have the same problem,” chuckled Bill ruefully.

The bartender placed the beers in front of the two men.

“That’ll be two GWs,” said Harry.

Jacob took out his wallet, retrieved two four-dollar notes and slid them over the counter to Harry. George Washington, the general who drowned in the Delaware, on a four-dollar bill. Who would’ve thought? But then this earth hadn’t progressed to digital currency yet, so he wasn’t surprised they’d honoured a martyr to the American cause.

“The name’s Bill Kaine,” said Bill and extended his right fist.

“Frank Dobson,” replied Jacob, touching his fist to the other man’s.

“So, Frank, where you from originally?”

“What? Oh, you mean the accent,” said Jacob. “Chicago.”

The fact was Jacob was a New Yorker from the lower east side, born and bred. But that was in his reality. In this reality he was an outsider.

“Chicago,” repeated Bill. “What brings you out east?”

“Work, mostly.”

“What type of work do you do?”

“Claims Specialist.”

“I’ll pretend I know what that is,” laughed Bill.

“Let’s put it this way, imagine if you will, the most interesting and rewarding job ever,” began Jacob and paused. “You got that image in your head?”

“Yep.”

“Well, my job is the exact opposite.”

“You think so?” said Bill. “Try dealing with the deadbeats in the warehouse I manage. And let’s not mention the fucking idiot running distribution at Head Office.”

Jacob raised his glass, took a long sip, and placed it back on the counter.

“I know exactly how you feel, Bill,” he said. “But rather than turn this into a dick measuring competition for worst job in the world, I say we change the subject to something that’ll make the evening more agreeable.”

“I reckon beer does a pretty good job making things agreeable,” said Bill. “Besides, if I don’t bitch about work, I’m just gonna end up bitching about the wife.”

“I wish I could relate, Bill, but I’m not married,” said Jacob and drained his glass for good measure. “You want another?”

“If you’re buying, I won’t say no,” said Bill and knocked back the remaining contents of his glass.

Jacob signalled the bartender. “Harry, another round over here.”

Bill released a loud burp. “So, if we can’t bitch about work and I can’t bitch about my marriage what should we talk about?”

“We could always talk about how the experts keep telling us we’re screwing up the planet,” offered Jacob.

The self-destructive trajectory of human civilization remained morbidly consistent, no matter how many earths he’d visited.

“Fuck that!” said Bill, shaking his head. “I’d rather bitch about how Jackson can’t throw for shit.”

“Jackson?”

“Michael Jackson, quarterback for the Jets,” replied Bill with a look of surprise. “Don’t tell me you don’t follow football? What the hell do you do on Sundays?”

Jacob suppressed a laugh as an image of a diminutive MJ moonwalking on the 50-yard line with a football balanced in one gloved hand popped into his head. In a manner of speaking, he had played in the Super Bowl, but in this reality the King of Pop didn’t even exist.

“Sure, I watch the game on occasion,” said Jacob, “I just don’t keep up with the stats. How many yards he threw in this game or that, or how well he’s reading the plays, or whatever. That stuff doesn’t interest me.”

The bartender placed two fresh beers in front of the men and removed the empty glasses before moving off to the far end of the bar to serve another patron.

“So, what does interest you?”

“Alternate realities.”

“Alternate realities?” repeated Bill quizzically. “What, you mean like looking at the world from a different point of view? You not one of those weirdos from the Church of the Divine Light, are you?”

“I’m not selling religion, Bill. What I’m offering is adventure,” said Jacob, placing a hand-sized cylindrical silver device on the counter between them.

 Bill looked at the metallic object.

“You mind if I pick it up?” he asked.

“Not in the slightest.”

Bill picked up the device and studied it. It had a small red screen at one end, with two buttons and a dial which ran about the circumference of the cylinder.

“Looks a bit like a vibrator to me,” said Bill. “What’s it supposed to be?”

“It’s a Dirac key.”

“What’s that when it’s not a sex toy?” enquired Bill eyeing the sleek object in his hand speculatively.

“It’s a type of quantum device which warps space-time and creates a temporary gate between parallel universes.”

“In plain English?”

“It’s a device that allows its user to move between parallel universes.”

Bill placed the device carefully back onto the counter.

“Is that even possible?” he asked.

“Trust me, it is.”

“Wait a minute,” chuckled Bill. “Are you trying to tell me you’re from another universe?”

“I am.”

“Okay, let’s pretend for a moment you’re on the level. How exactly does it work?”

“Well,” began Jacob picking up the Dirac Key, “It’s simple really. I initiate the phasing sequence by typing a code using this touchscreen, turn the dial and then press these two buttons in unison to phase when ready.”

“How do you decide on which universe to pick?”

“Actually, it’s not that straight forward.”

“What? Do you mean you can’t choose where you go?”

“I choose that when I type in the code string but that’s not the issue. The real issue is, even though the key shows me the Deutsch coordinates, it doesn’t tell me what to expect in that universe.”

“So, you could find yourself materializing inside a wall, or right in front of an oncoming automobile? You mean, something like that?”

“No, the algorithm makes allowance for that, so you materialize in empty space.”

“So, what? Do you end up going back or forward in time?”

“Well, not like in the traditional sense, no.”

“What then?”

“Things progress at a slower or faster pace. Like say, technology. In the earth I come from almost no-one carries cash anymore, they pay using their cellular phones.”

“You mean on something like this?” said Bill pulling a push-button cell phone from his pocket.

“Sort of, but the ones we use are far more advanced.”

“Okay, so let me see yours then,” said Bill looking unconvinced.

“That kind of technology wouldn’t survive the jump.”

“That’s very convenient,” chuckled Bill. “But say I still believe you, how else does your earth differ from this one?”

“Let’s see, in your second world war this country chose to starve the Japanese into submission using a combination of firebombing all their cities and an aggressive submarine campaign against their maritime trade. We, on the other hand, chose to drop nuclear bombs on two of their cities.”

“Nuclear? Are you for real?”

“Could’ve been worse. I visited one earth where they’d actually experienced a limited nuclear exchange.”

“You mean between us and the Soviets?”

“Nope, India and Pakistan.”

“You’re shitting me!”

“Wish I was,” said Jacob. “We’ve come close though. Twice. Once, in ’62 with Kennedy, and then again in ’83.”

“You mean John F Kennedy, the man who got elected three terms straight? That Kennedy?”

“In my universe, a two-term limit was ratified in 1951, so Kennedy couldn’t have served three terms even if he wanted. Not that it mattered to him, he was assassinated in ’63.”

“Assassinated? Are you telling me someone actually shot a president?”

“We’ve lost four that way,” nodded Jacob. “But there’s been plenty more attempts.”

“You’re bullshitting me, right?”

“Afraid not, it’s the God’s honest truth. I can tell you about them if you want.”

“Yeah, why not,” chuckled Bill. “It’s not like I’ve got someplace better to be.”

Jacob began with Lincoln’s demise in Ford’s theatre. He took his time, describing the events in some detail before moving on to Garfield, the next on the list of unfortunates. The conversation then drifted on to other subjects, meandering aimlessly between America’s wars, the Red Scare, Vietnam, landing on the moon, music, and movies. The night wore on as Jacob talked, weaving tales of fact and fiction into a seamless reality as he continued to ply Bill with booze.

“Holy shit!” exclaimed Bill after listening to Jacob’s description of drone warfare. “Either this is legit or you’re one hell of a storyteller.”

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his top pocket and offered one to Jacob.

“No thanks, they’re bad for your health anyway.”

“What, smoking? Maybe in your world, pal,” chuckled Bill and proceeded to light up a cigarette.

In this world Big Tobacco obviously still controlled the narrative.

Jacob watched as Bill took a leisurely drag of his cigarette and exhaled slowly.

“Aren’t you going to ask me?”

“Ask you what?” said Bill.

“Why I’m here. Why I chose this bar in particular,” said Jacob.

“I’ve been too busy listening to your stories to think to ask. Anyways, you’ve talked about your world but what about all these other worlds you say you visited?”

“What about them?”

“Well, are they very different from our worlds?”

“Different? In what way?”

“Well, Christianity, for example. Does that exist on these other worlds?”

“Religion exists in one form or another in every universe. It’s something embedded within the human psyche.”

“But not Christianity?”

“Like I said, in one form or another.”

Bill took another draw of his cigarette and exhaled reflectively.

“What about America?” he asked. “Is there a universe out there where we’re not, you know, America?”

“Not one that I’ve visited.”

“Considering the odds, I’d say that’s surprising.”

“The odds?”

“Well, first the Spanish empire, then the French, the English. It could’ve gone any which way.”

“But you’re not considering one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“The people who wanted to settle here in the first place,” said Jacob. “They were always the type who were going to forge their own way. Whether it begins in 1776, or 1789, or 1812. The end result is never in doubt.”

“Okay, Frank, you got me. So why did you come to this bar tonight?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I came to see you, Bill.”

“Me?” said Bill with a look of surprise. “Why me?”

“Why you? Well, because in a manner of speaking, we are the same person.”

“What do you mean, the same person?”

“My name isn’t Frank Dobson, its Jacob Kaine. Our parents and our grandparents have the same lineage albeit in different universes.”

“You’re shitting me, right? We don’t even look the same!”

“That doesn’t mean we don’t have the same genetics. Besides, there’s other ways to tell.”

“Like what?”

“Like for instance the fact that I’m willing to bet anything you have webbed toes.”

“Webbed toes?”

“The skin between the second and third toes on each of your feet are fused.”

“I know what it means,” growled Bill. “I just don’t think it proves anything.”

“What if I told you I had the very same rare genetic condition?”

Jacob raised his left leg onto the stool and proceeded to remove the shoe and sock. He wiggled the toes of his foot. The second and third were fused.

“All the men in our family have the same condition as do yours,” he said. “Now add to that the odds of a stranger walking into a bar one night and claiming you and he are identical.”

“Okay, say this, the whole parallel universes thing, you being me, everything. Say it’s all true. Why all the cloak and dagger?”

“That’s a good question,” replied Jacob as he pulled on his sock and slipped on his shoe. “My father was a physicist renowned for his work in string theory and the multiverse paradox. He was also an inventor. Once I completed my PhD at Caltech, I joined him in his research. Together we developed the Key. But that’s when things got complicated.”

“Let me guess, your employers had other ideas on how to use the technology?”

Jacob nodded.

“They had a contract with the government,” he said. “I suppose it was naïve for us to think they would not be tempted by the military potential.”

“Like what?”

“More advanced gear, for one thing. As I said before, the technological timeline moves faster on some earths. Then there’s potential access to rare materials.”

“Didn’t you say before you couldn’t bring your fancy phone with you?” observed Bill.

“That’s true. But who’s to say the technology won’t be developed?”

“I guess that’s always possible. So, you say things got complicated and then, what, you decided to go on the run?”

“It was the only way to keep them from getting their hands on the Key,” shrugged Jacob. “But there’s more to it than that. The Key is a living historical document. Everything I see and do is recorded by it. The sights and sounds of more than a thousand parallel earths all stored in this little device.”

“Did you just say, a thousand parallel earths?”

“A thousand is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. If the theory holds true, it could be infinite.”

“How long did you stay in these other universes?”

“A day, or sometimes as much as a few months. It really depended on what I wanted to achieve.”

“Hold on, I’m no maths genius or anything, but let’s say you stayed five days in each universe on average, that would be 5,000 days which would mean you’ve been on this journey ten years or more!”

“Not if you take into account the time dilation that occurs each time you phase.”

“So, how long have you been doing this then?”

“Just a couple of months,” said Jacob casually.

This was a lie, but one he needed Bill to believe.

“Just a couple of months? So, basically, you’re telling me if you keep travelling between worlds you could almost live forever.”

“Almost, but not quite,” smiled Jacob.

Another lie.

Bill studied Jacob for a moment and then raised his glass and took a long sip.

“Okay,” he said, placing his glass on the counter. “You’ve managed to keep this key thing away from the bad guys and you’ve had adventures in lots of different universes. And now you say you’ve come to this one to see me. Why?”

“I’m tired of travelling, Bill. I need someone to take over from me. Someone I can pass the baton on to. Someone I can trust. I need you, Bill.”

“Me? Is this a joke?”

“A joke? No, Bill, I’m dead serious.”

“Look, Frank, or Jacob or whatever your name is, even if I believe everything you’ve told me, and I’m not saying I do, but you can’t think I’m just going to walk out on my life! I mean, what about my job? What about my wife?”

“Didn’t you say earlier you hated your job?” said Jacob. “And you also said your marriage wasn’t too crash hot either.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I just wanna quit on my life!”

“I understand your hesitation, I really do. But how can you really make that call until you know what you’re missing?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m saying, why not take the key for a test drive? Do one jump and see how you feel then.”

Bill picked up the Dirac Key again.

“I don’t know, man,” he said, his fingers running over the buttons and dial. “Can you let me think about it for a day or two?”

“I wish I could, but I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Doing this thing requires a special kind of individual with a great level of commitment. It requires someone with an inner strength of character which most humans just don’t have. Someone who would give up everything to achieve greatness. Think of the great discoverers, Bill, imagine being like the first man on the moon. Don’t you want to be that person?”

“Yeah sure, but what’s wrong with having a day or two to consider?”

“Committed men don’t need a few days to think about doing things,” said Jacob and took the device from Bill. “It’s a real pity, you know. I thought you’d be the one for sure. Looks like I’m just gonna have to resume my search for that special person.”

He slipped the device into his coat pocket and rose from his stool.

“I’m sorry I wasted your time, and mine,” he said, turning to leave.

“What if I do the test now?” said Bill quickly. “How long would I be gone for?”

Jacob sat down again.

“Let’s say you used the Key to phase now,” he said, retrieving the device from his coat to place it back on the counter. “If you stayed a few hours in that world then reversed the process you’d be back by midnight.”

“Midnight? Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay,” said Bill, picking up the device. “Let’s do this. How do I get it to work?”

“Hold on, we can’t do it right here,” chuckled Jacob.

“Okay sure,” said Bill, looking around. “I get that. Where then?”

“We could do it in the alleyway right outside but, considering you hardly know me, that idea might seem suspicious to you. I mean, this could all be part of an elaborate con to get you into a secluded spot and mug you.”

“The thought had occurred to me,” admitted Bill.

“Let’s go to an out of the way spot of your choosing then,” proposed Jacob. “You know of a place?”

Bill nodded.

“I’ll hold on to the Key until we get there,” said Jacob, holding out his hand.

Bill handed him the device as they rose from their barstools. No one noticed the two men leave the bar.

“So, where to now?” asked Jacob once they were outside.

“There’s an old derelict building about two blocks from here,” replied Bill. “I figured we could go there.”

#

The two men arrived at the abandoned building a half hour later. They had been silent for much of their walk, each preoccupied with what they were about to do. Once they were certain no one was around they climbed a fence and entered the building through a broken side door. It was dark inside, but enough streetlight penetrated the building’s cracked and dirty windowpanes to illuminate the interior in a ghostly hue. The men took time to search the few rooms located on the ground floor. Homeless people were known to sleep here but tonight it appeared deserted.

“Okay then,” said Jacob finally. “Are we going to do this?”

“I guess so,” replied Bill.

“Let me programme this thing and then we’ll be ready to initiate phasing.”

Jacob pretended to use the touch screen to punch in a string of characters. He’d already input the required key code and alphanumeric string earlier but thought Bill might think it suspicious if the device had been pre-programmed.

“Hold on,” interrupted Bill, “I don’t know how to programme this thing. How do I get back here?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you. The Key only needs to be programmed each time you phase to a new universe and seeing as this is a one-off thing, you won’t need to do anything except press the buttons when you want to return.”

Jacob turned the dial on the Dirac Key and handed it to Bill before stepping back a few feet.

“Okay, when you’re ready, press those two buttons in unison,” he said. “Everything will seem to distort weirdly; you’ll see strange bands of colour and then suddenly you’ll find yourself in another universe. Don’t worry about the headache and nausea, it’ll pass after an hour or so. Oh, and whatever you do, don’t lose the Key. It’s your only way back. You got that?”

“I still can’t believe I’m actually going to do this.”

“Don’t worry, Bill, I know you’ll do great. You’re me, remember? And right now, you’re about to be the first man in this universe to do what no one else here has ever done. Think about that.”

“I guess you’re right,” said Bill. “See you in a few minutes!”

He smiled, pressed the buttons, and disappeared in a bright flash.

Jacob let out a regretful sigh. He’d already been to the world he’d sent Bill to. It was the stuff of nightmares. It wouldn’t take the man long to press the buttons to come back, and when he did, it would be over. The Key would self-destruct as he’d programmed it to, and Bill would be incinerated, leaving just enough of a genetic trace for the Sentinels to find. They would stop hunting and he would finally be free. Not everything he’d told Bill had been a lie. He and his father had invented the key. The government had seen the military advantage and he had escaped using the Key, but not before destroying the laboratory and all their research. The plan had been to hide out in an alternate universe before returning to his own sometime in the future.

But then he’d run into an alien race he called the Sentinels, the gatekeepers of all realities. It was they who’d decided the destructive consequence of one species having the power to move between alternate realities far outweighed any advantage. It was they who’d travelled back to his world to eliminate his father and all those connected with their research, and it was they who’d been hunting him ever since. It had taken many universes and many close calls to find the right genetic match, but eventually he had. True, he could have surrendered himself to them from the beginning. Then again, why should he, a man who’d achieved what no other human could, sacrifice himself? It was better that an inconsequential nobody from a nondescript reality be sacrificed instead.

Jacob smiled to himself. Goodbye, Bill Kaine, I, if no one else, will remember you.

A few minutes later a lone figure exited the derelict building, climbed the fence, and walked away into the night.

END