My mine, p.1
My Mine, p.1
By Stephen Brandon
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Copyright 2015 by Stephen Brandon
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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author
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This book is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, incidents, and dialogue are from the authors imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or other persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Real and fictional locations are used for background only.
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This story is dedicated to those who dare to dream. Using your dreams to search for adventure and knowledge is a grand challenge. I salute you!
Table of Contents ~(ToC)~
Early History of Belt Corporation
Three years later
Five years later
Nine years later
About Stephen Brandon
Other books by Stephen Brandon
Connect with Stephen Brandon
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Bill came to looking at a ceiling tile a few inches from his nose. The last thing he could recall was someone hollering, EARTHQUAKE. This can't be right. I'm not tall enough to be on the ceiling. Then he realized he could hear pounding and grating to his side. Faintly he heard, “Another life sign twenty in.”
At least the rescue teams are on their way. At least I'm not hurt. Slowly moving his right arm up he scratched his nose and saw the blood on his hand. Trying to turn his head he realized his neck felt weird. He was looking at the top of his left shoulder. That's weird. I've never been able to do that before.
The face Bill saw had green eye's. As the man's mouth moved he heard, “Bring a regen box.” A moment later he saw two arms shoving a blue box down over his head and a blue line start to cross his shoulder.
This shit can't be real. I have to be dreaming. My childhood never seemed this real looking back. My old Chevy. Dad made me buy my own first car and then he sold it while I was in basic training. The twenty years I spent in the Army never passed this fast. The stars never looked that clear in the observatory roof during those classes. Ah, the internship in the Davis Mountains of Texas. The promotions and then my assignment to the big one on Hawaii. Those asteroids and the way they glint. So pretty!
That glow. Oh no! Now I remember how everyone used to say when you die you see your life flash before eyes and then the light at the end of the tunnel ...
Is the body complete?
Yes Sir, It has reached the regeneration age of twenty. The latest protocol is to disconnect so resources can be used elsewhere.
What do the protocols say about this class of individual?
The last paragraph simply states that they are to be transferred to the reeducation compound for therapy. They estimate a fifty percent adjustment rate. That's why they set the regeneration age at twenty.
Bill wondered why their speech was so clipped. He got one eye open and saw the back of two people dressed in white. What do you mean age twenty, I'm eighty-three? He couldn't hear his voice. What do you mean age twenty. Still nothing. WHAT DO YOU MEAN AGE TWENTY! All he heard was a grr--.
The two people dressed in white turned and one placed his hand on Bill's face and rubbed something on his lips, and then in his mouth. He could see several more people rushed in with doctor type equipment. He realized that someone was spraying something in his mouth. Damn it hurt to swallow. Suddenly he realized, they left my false teeth in. I – shouldn't be able to feel the roof of my mouth.
He's awake. The scan indicates massive brain activity. Prepare for transport to reeducation.
Bill felt his jaw move and heard someone say NO. Where am I? One of the people in white screamed and then disappeared.
“That's unusual. Most regens can't speak for at least a day or two.”
Who is this individual?
There was no ID Sir. He's been classified as one of the temporal transfers.
Hold him here for a day on my authority. I want to talk to him before transfer. Temporarily classify him as a transportation mishap. Transfer his scans to my office and notify me as soon as he makes a full statement.
Bill wiggled his jaw and them mumbled, “That's bull shit, I'm right here. You talk like I'm a child.” Watching them turn toward him he stated. “I may be eighty-three, but I ain't senile. Thanks for rescuing me, but don't treat me like a child!”
The guy dressed in white on the left asked, “What year is this?”
Oh hell, They're going to ask me all the idiot questions they ask accident victims. “It is June 8th 2024. I've been through this question routine before, so before you ask me anymore of these stupid questions, my name is Doctor Bill Johnson. I'm eighty-three. I was visiting San Francisco, but live in Seattle. Now let me have a cellphone so I can let my son know that I'm still alive and in a hospital.”
The second face from the left opened its mouth and said, “Doctor Johnson, this may come as a great shock, but you were recovered from a collapsed building in New San Francisco. The old city was leveled by the big one back in 2237. We are now in the process of evacuating everyone. The latest temporal quake reopened the San Andreas fault.”
Bill heard someone say, Don't give him to much information. It may drive him into shock.
At that instant Bill realized, he was in the future. “That may be true for most individuals, but I'm a scientist. Is time travel perfected, or still in the testing stage? Several surprised looks confirmed his analysis. Who the hell is in charge here? I want to speak to them immediately and get me whatever you use as a newspaper along with a history book.”
“I'm Captain Mitchell, I'm in charge of recovery team 43, and you're presently in the secondary triage unit. You will have to wait till you are transferred to the reeducation and therapy unit before you will be fully briefed. You have no rights or privileges until you are classified and assigned a new identity. The reason for this is, the temporal quakes are causing massive destruction world wide. Everyone, and I mean everyone is being evacuated to the moon and Mars. I will tag your file with the information you've given us, that will make you a priority for retraining and classification. Remember, you only have about five hundred years of knowledge to catch up on. Doctor put him in stasis.”
“You can't treat my like this.” I've got rights...
... I'm a qualified scientist and important in my field. I have the “right to see the person in charge and demand he be called right now!”
“I'm sorry Doctor Johnson, but you will be processed in accordance to the protocols. First, you will be classified in accordance to your existing skills.
“Second you will be brought up to date with a general history classes depending on your chronological shift.
“Third, you will be trained in local customs and current society protocols.
“Fourth, you will be trained in emergency procedures and equipment here on Ceres.
“Fifth, you will be given a choice of career fields you may qualify for.
“Sixth and last, you will be released into the local society, or transferred to any of your descendants we may locate, if they accept. The computer has identified over fifty thousand transferred individuals from the New San Francisco area alone.
“You seem to be one of the lucky ones that didn't go into what we've now recognized as time shock. If you will get up and dressed, someone be back in a few to escort you to your first class.” Then she turned and left the room closing the door.
Bill immediately realized he couldn't leave because he heard the door click shut and then a quiet thunk that had to be a lock. Looking around he saw a robe. Picking it up he laughed. Damn, they're still using see-more-hinny hospital robes. At least it has Velcro strips on the back so I can close most of it. Sitting on the edge of the bed he looked around. Is that a computer or just another hospital monitor? Quietly Bill whispered, computer on, display menu.
The screen flicked and then turned pale green. Menu requested? Specify.
Looking directly at the computer Bill said, “News.”
Specify location and time frame, replied the computer. Just then Bill heard a laugh behind him.
Turning his head, Bill saw a short female with her hand over her mouth. She was laughing so hard she was vibrating. “What is so funny child?”
That sobered her up and she snapped back. “I'm an adult you moron, you can't even operate a computer proficiently. Any ten year old can get to the local news, and they know how to find it.”
“Well Missy, I'm new here and this is the first computer I've seen here. Could you adjust to a five hundred year displacement without taking it slow and cautiously.”
Looking at her wrist, she whispered a few words and said, “Sorry, Doctor Johnson, I thought you were just a routine escort, I didn't know this was your first day.”
“Actually, I've only been awake an hour here and a few minutes back in New San Francisco. There they told me they'd pulled me out of a collapsed building. The biggest surprise was getting my leg back. Actually, I'm positive I got a whole new body. I was wheelchair bound. You see, I am eighty-three years old and back in the twenty-first century medicine was still experimenting with limb replacement. The medical journals claimed it would be twenty years before it would be available to the general public.
“Now Missy what is your name and where were you supposed to take me.”
“Sir, I am to escort you to the directors office and then to wherever he directs. I've been assigned as your sponsor. My name is Melissa, but only my father calls me Missy.”
“Well, I'm older than your father. What would you like me to call you, Melissa or Missy?”
“Melissa. If you will follow me.”
“Hopefully the director will tell you to take me to a clothing store.”
Bill followed Melissa down several corridors and up the stairs to the next floor. He quickly realized that he couldn't watch her graceful walk, because he could feel his body reacting.
Melissa suddenly stopped and rushed back grabbing Bill's arm. “Are you all right, your face is very red.”
Bill coughed and then said, “I'm OK. It's just. It's just. I'm eighty-three years old in a twenty year old body, and I need some time to adjust.”
“Do you need an individual transportation chair?”
“No, no, this body is working fine. Maybe, just a little to well for my old mind.”
Melissa jerked her hand back and her face turned beet red. Bill watched her blush travel down her neck and into her blouse. She said, “I shall get you another escort that won't cause this distress.”
Hesitantly Bill replied, “No need to do that. You are very pleasing to the eye. I think I would have the same problem with any young lady I see walking as gracefully as you. I'll just have to take a cold shower and exercise a lot of self-control.”
As her blush faded she announced, “At least you haven't tried groping me like most of the young men I know. I will be pleased to be your sponsor.”
The Director looked like he'd not only gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, but he must have been sitting on a cactus. “Doctor Johnson, we've notified several of your descendants, however they are out of contact at the present. I have been directed to offer you VIP quarters with staff, and this credit card for your convenience. I seems that you were somewhat famous back in the twenty-first century and the assembly wishes to reward you. What did you do? Your file was sealed.”
“Director, I was an astronomer. I made several minor discoveries. Shall we leave it at that. Thanks, I'll keep the assigned escort, give her the information so she can brief me. Now if I remember correctly, I should be headed to some class or another for training.”
Pressing a button on his desk, the Director stated, “Send in Doctor Johnson's escort.”
As Melissa entered the door the Director took one look and stated, “This young girl is unsuitable as an escort, I'll get you someone more experienced.”
“Director, as I previously stated, I will keep Melissa as my escort and sponsor. If I must, I will take my decision over your head. Now give her my information so I can get the h---, so I can get my training started.”
The Director paled and jumped to his feet. “You can't threaten me that w--.”
“Director, that wasn't a threat, just a statement of fact. I'm sure that if I insisted, you would be reassigned to picking up trash in the future.”
Melissa cowered by the door repeating, “Sir you can't say that to the Director.”
After the third time Bill turned to her and stated, “He was going to reassign you because of your supposed inexperience. When I make a decision, I don't like it when some bureaucrat tries to railroad me with his supposed authority. Is that understood by both of you! WELL?”
Melissa replied first, “Yes Sir.”
The Director plopped into his chair and simply said, “Yes.
“Girl, here is his assignment file. Don't make any mistakes or I'll have you reassigned.”
Melissa said, “Yes Sir” as she picked up the tablet from the directors desk.
Bill turned and headed for the door with Melissa scampering at his heels.
As Melissa started to close the door Bill heard, Director, you didn't handle that ve--
Bill stopped and turned in the hall and held out his hand. “Show me how to operate this tablet or whatever you call it.”
“It is a personal information tablet. It can be operated by link, like the one I have implanted, or by voice command. They usually have a security lock out for privacy, however this one is open.”
“Is anyone trying to access the information in it at the present time,” asked Bill.
“Tablet, do you recognized the name Doctor Bill Johnson.
On the screen a yes appeared.
“Block all attempts to retrieve information from your source except for Melissa and myself. We will use voice activation to access. Execute.
Another yes appeared on the screen and then the word, Done.
Taking Melissa by the arm Bill led her down the hall. Turning randomly after going down the stairs he finally looked at her frightened face and said, “Tablet, voice activation primary password for me is FizzleFart.
“Melissa, pick a password and tell it to the tablet.”
With a shocked look on her face she simply repeated, “Fizzle-fart.”
On the tablet screen the words appeared. Tablet secured with password. Incoming data and electronic message.
“Melissa lead us to a lounge where we can talk. Tablet, display message.”
+++ message 2045871102
+++ from: Assembly computer
1.You have not signed in for your first orientation class.
2.Your assigned tablet is offline.
3.After your first orientation class you must report to Level 40 room 5488 to replace defective tablet.
4.Director Franks has been reassigned and demoted for unethical actions directed toward you after you departed his office.
Melissa handed Bill a glass. “Here is some tea.”
Scratching his chin, Bill took a drink and then said, “Tablet, reconfiguration for normal operation without allowing more than minimum data transfer required by local standard operation procedures. You will block any data other than ID, and send a message to any computer requesting data that this tablet is locked down for security reasons. Send a reply to assembly computer informing it that I have ordered this, for personal reasons, and also inform it that I declared you operational per paragraph 2 and 3. Inform it also that I need several hours to question my assigned escort Melissa and it should reschedule my first orientation class and all others with conflicting time frames reference paragraph 1. Send new schedule to Melissa's communications device.
“Melissa, we have a bit of time to brief me. Find out where my quarters are, and my new orientation schedule should be on your communication device shortly. I also need you to find us a secure location where our conversation can not be monitored. If you need to, ask the tablet to contact the assembly computer for a location.
The tablet pinged and displayed, Incoming message.
+++ message 2045871521 SECURE
+++ from: Assembly computer
Acknowledgment of tablet reconfiguration.
Present location secure for verbal and electronic communication.
Doctor, messages have been sent to all your descendants.
FYI: Your honorary seat as VP of the Belt Corporation has been upgraded. Full details transferred to your tablet.
Looking at the message, Bill looked at Melissa and said, “Oh shit. I need a quick run down on what history you can remember about the last five hundred years, and then what you know about the Belt Corporation.”
Melissa started talking. About half way through her face paled and then she asked, “Are you the Doctor Bill Johnson that found the first alien artifacts?”
Quietly Bill answered, “No, I found the first golden asteroids and got the ball rolling to form the Belt Corporation.
“Tablet, display my profile, position in the Belt Corporation, and financial status.
Profile available from 21st century records in history files, display [Y / n]
Hierarchy of Belt Corporation indicates you are the Senior President.
Financial Status: Per original contract: $82458745232587166998552424365. Financial Status: Per heirs contract: Unable to calculate without exceeding secure memory. Descendants used your original account as a family pool to fund all expeditions with percentage of profits redeposited.
As she finished up the tablet pinged again. Incoming message.
+++ message 2045872821 SECURE
+++ from: Assembly computer
FYI: Your presence was reported to the Belt Corporation directors.
Assembly main computer has replied to all queries from Belt Corporation board of directors. Board consist of Johnson family descendants.
Message traffic indicates that they consider you an impostor and threat to the corporation.
Your present location is unknown to them. A belt wide search is underway.
Tablet, ask the assembly secure computer if it is sentient. Display reply.
Tablet, request the secure assembly computer to send a message to the Belt Corporation board with no return address. “I am the Doctor Bill Johnson that discovered the golden asteroids. I was in San Francisco during an earthquake and was recovered in New San Francisco by a recovery team. I am not a threat to the Belt Corporation. As an old man I am more interested in enjoying my retirement years than fighting for some mythical power.”
Tablet, can you set up an untraceable financial account accessible only by me and Melissa. If you can, do so. Make its balance about a billion units of whatever monetary unit accepted by all known human society's.
Tablet, transfer two thousand monetary units to Melissa's personal financial account. “Melissa, I need you to order me some clothing that is appropriate to someone my age. What I mean is someone that looks about twenty. Also order yourself some clothing that doesn't identify you as a hospital worker. We need to be able to walk around and blend in with any group we're in.”
The tablet displayed, Done.
Tablet, I need you to hide Melissa's identity as my escort and sponsor.
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My Mine by Stephen Brandon / Science Fiction have rating 2.6 out of 5 / Based on31 votes