The Corps of Discovery Trilogy Box Set: Books 1-3: A multiverse series of alternate history Read online

  Bill sat down and tapped on the keyboard. Once it was running, he inserted the flash drive into the USB port just below the monitor screen. The first instructions came up, directing him to place his thumb on the scanner built into the side of the screen. A greenish light seeped out from around his thumb as it was scanned. A second later, the screen displayed “Confirmed, William J. Clark. Click ‘Next’ to proceed.”

  Bill touched the ‘Next” button on the screen and a short document appeared, stating that Bill declared himself a responsible adult, accepting all liberties and responsibilities that one got as such. Bill was surprised it used the word ‘responsible’ rather than the usual ‘legal’ he saw on most documents. At the end of the form was a signature block, with a computer-generated ‘Use the touchscreen to sign your name’ box next to it. He touched the signature block, then signed his name on the screen using his index finger. He was also directed to swipe his thumb over the scanner, signifying that he did, indeed, electronically sign the documents.

  He repeated the process for the remaining documents. Next was a contract stipulating that he was accepting employment with the Corps of Discovery as a survey specialist, with additional duties as co-pilot and navigator. The contract specified that if he made it through the one-year probation period or died on duty during that time, he would not have to reimburse the Corps of Discovery for his immigration costs (Bill noted that if he died while off duty, part of his insurance would go to paying the rather hefty immigration fee.) While it turned out to be one of the lengthiest documents he would sign, it was only a couple of pages long.

  Other forms included an insurance form (with the payout in gold), a basic will (he left all his worldly possessions, including the gold insurance claim to his father, since Jessica was no longer a part of his life), a copy of his health records, emergency contact information, and a couple of human resource-type forms.

  He was stumped when he began filling out the payroll form. Not having a bank in Hayek yet, he didn’t know where to deposit his salary. He didn’t think Wells Fargo would have a branch there. He was about to ask Janice about this when a sidebar popped up on the document saying “No Bank Account on Hayek? Touch Here.” Bill did so and was directed to the website of the Parallel Credit Union, a member-supported credit union for the employees of Parallel, Inc. and all its subsidiaries.

  Bill knew from his research that Parallel, Inc. was the parent firm for several subsidiaries, such as Interworld Transfers, Resource Management Group, and the Corps of Discovery, but it was still surprising to know that he’d be working for a private enterprise in what would normally be a government-supported role on Earth.

  Bill navigated his way to the “New Member” page. He completed the online form but was stumped about his addresses. Again, a sidebar popped up “No mailing address on file? Touch Here.”

  He did so and saw “If you do not have a permanent address, we can use your work address. Do you want to do that?” Bill touched the ‘Yes’ button. After he did, he was back at the form, which now had his address listed as the Corps of Discovery headquarters on Sacajawea Base, near Milton, the capital of Hayek.

  When he touched the email address block “If you do not have a permanent email address on Hayek, we can use your work address. Do you want to do that?” appeared. Again, Bill touched the ‘Yes’ button and was returned to the form. He saw that his new address was [email protected] He wondered what ‘svc’ was, but decided to ask Janice once he was finished.

  After entering in all the data, including a password, he was asked if everything was correct. He looked it over, saw everything appeared right, then touched the ‘Save’ button.

  He then saw a statement form showing a zero balance in his account. He wondered why he wasn’t given a choice of checking or savings, but, again, figured he would ask Janice.

  The screen then showed “If you are satisfied with your banking arrangement, touch ‘Yes’ to return to the documents. If not, touch ‘No’ to edit.” Bill touched ‘Yes’ and was returned to the payroll form, where he saw that his new banking information had been automatically entered.

  One form Bill didn’t miss signing was the income tax form. There wasn’t an income tax on Hayek, so there was no need for that type of form. Of course, he expected he would still have to pay his federal income tax, at least until such time as he revoked his US citizenship for a Hayek one.

  Once Bill was finished signing and thumb scanning every form, the computer showed “Congratulations! You are now a Probationary Explorer in the Corps of Discovery. Please click ‘Here’ to save a copy of your signed forms on the external storage device you inserted in Drive F. You may pick up your identification card at the front desk. The Explorer at the desk will give you instructions on its uses.”

  Bill touched the ‘Here’ button and, after seeing that all the documents were saved, extracted the flash drive.

  He got up, put the drive in his pocket, walked over and let Janice know he was finished. She reached under the counter and brought up a card, handing it to him. It looked like a combination of a driver’s license and credit card. On the front was a headshot of him, along with his full name and a security chip. The Corps of Discovery emblem constituted the background. A magnetic stripe and a barcode were on the otherwise blank back.

  “This isn’t just your Corps identification card, it’s also your medical card and your debit card for your bank. So, any time you change any info, you’ll need to get it updated, usually at HQ. The chip contains data on your date of birth, blood type, religion, medical allergies, et cetera.”

  He asked Janice about the lack of choice between checking and savings.

  “Oh, we just have bank accounts—they aren’t broken down further. Nobody uses checks anyhow, only cash or electronic transfers. Some people tried to get credit cards working, but most merchants wouldn’t use them, so you probably won’t ever see one. By the way, unless you’ve got a special reason to hold onto it, you’ll want to get rid of whatever US currency you have—it’s worthless on Hayek.”

  “Good point. Not that I have much, but where can I do that?”

  “There’s a currency exchange inside before you cross over,” Janice said, nodding at the door leading into the rest of the huge building.

  Just then, the front door opened and another young man entered. Both Bill and Janice turned to face the newcomer. In contrast to Bill’s average height and looks, he was short and lean, with sharply defined features and bright blue eyes.

  “Is this where I check in for the Corps of Discovery?” he asked in a surprisingly deep voice with a strong Southern accent.

  “Sure is,” Janice replied. “Give me a minute and I’ll be right with you.” Turning back to Bill she asked, “Do you have any personal effects you’re taking over?”

  “Yeah. My pickup is parked outside with all my stuff in it.”

  “In that case, grab one of the carts out front and bring it all in here. Unless somebody else is taking your truck, you’ll want to sell it. If you want us to sell it, then bring the keys in here after you’ve emptied it. You do have the title with you, don’t you?”

  “Oh yeah,” Bill replied.

  “Great. Well, off you go, then. I’ll pull up a power of attorney for you to fill out when you get back.”

  Janice turned back to the new guy. As Bill was walking away, he heard Janice ask, “Okay, then. What’s your name?”

  The newcomer answered, “Matt Green,” in his deep Southern drawl.

  Stepping outside, Bill grabbed the four-wheeled garden cart next to the door. The day had warmed considerably since he had been inside. Even with the cart sitting in the shade, heat transferred from the cart’s handle to his hand. Unlike western Washington, which seemed to have a perpetual cloud cover, eastern Washington didn’t seem to suffer from a lack of sunshine. The hot sun began beating down on Bill’s head as he crossed the lot, pulling the cart behind him. By the time he arrived at the truck he could feel sweat breaking out on his
forehead and armpits.

  After unloading his truck and stacking everything in the cart, Bill was starting to wilt, and sweat stains were becoming visible on his shirt. He couldn’t wait to get back into the air-conditioned building.

  As he headed back, he heard something hard land near him. Turning to the sound, he saw a rock skitter across the macadam. Several of the protesters near the gate were reaching down to pick things up from the ground. He picked up his pace, keeping an eye on the small crowd. A few more rocks fell near him; the protesters yelled obscenities. One young woman in a flowing dress and her hair in dreadlocks yelled “Killer of planets!”

  Back at the building Bill had to hold the door open with one hand while pushing the cart in with the other. As the door closed, he could feel the air conditioning hit and begin cooling him and drying his sweat.

  “Rowdy crowd out there,” he said to Janice.

  “Luckily, they’re not on Hayek,” she said, sliding a document over the counter. “Here you go.”

  Bill parked the cart beside him while he looked over the power of attorney. Seeing that everything seemed legitimate, he signed the document.

  “Well, I guess that’s pretty much it,” he said. “Where to now?”

  Janice pointed to the second door in the room. “Just go through there and follow the signs for the Corps of Discovery. We’ve got our own gate. A little small, but it’s all ours.” She smiled. “Don’t forget to stop at the currency exchange. You’ll want real money on you when you go over. You’ll also want to make sure that any electronics you’ve got with you are accessible. We scan everything for viruses once you pass over. Also, if you’ve got any firearms, you might want to unload them and keep them packed. I don’t recommend wearing them out in public until you’ve gone through orientation.”

  “Oh. Okay. What about the cart?”

  “Take it with you. It’ll be returned once you’re finished with it.”

  Bill grabbed the handle of the cart. “Thanks.”

  “No problem. Stay safe out there.”

  As he headed for the door, he saw that Matt Green was engrossed in filling out his own forms, not even looking up as Bill passed.

  Bill stepped into a cavernous room, deafening with the cacophony created by what seemed like thousands of occupants. There were people of all shapes, sizes, colors, and ages, although there weren’t as many older people (as would be expected considering Earth’s demographics). Many of them were standing next to carts that were either hand-pulled or pulled by animals. Very few motor vehicles were in sight. It reminded Bill of an old Heinlein novel he read once, about a tunnel in the sky.

  He surveyed the scene for a minute, getting his bearings. A bright flashing sign indicated the currency exchange to his right, about fifty feet away. The gate was in the opposite direction, against a far wall. There was nothing flashy or shiny about it, just a simple sign above showing the Corps logo and the words “Corps of Discovery Gate.”

  Bill pulled his cart to the currency exchange and joined a line of people. The line moved fairly fast as there were several people working behind the desk. In short order, it was Bill’s turn.

  He approached the desk and saw behind it a sign showing the exchange rates. Gold was selling for 5,000 US dollars an ounce, and the currency fee was two percent. This meant that for 5,100 dollars, one would get an ounce of gold. Bill didn’t have to worry about that, as he didn’t have all that much money left.

  “How may I help you?” asked the young woman, giving him a toothy smile.

  “I’m moving to Hayek and I need to get rid of my US currency.”

  “Very well. Would you like that in gold, silver, certificates, or a direct transfer to a bank?” she asked.

  “Uh, what’s a certificate?” Bill asked.

  “Oh. Well, rather than carry gold or silver everywhere, all banks issue gold and silver certificates. Sort of like US currency, but actually backed up by real gold or silver.”

  “Gee. I’m not sure. Which do you think would be best? I’ve already got a credit union account on Hayek. Can I do a combination?”

  “Certainly. How much would you like to convert?”

  Bill pulled out his wallet and took out his remaining US currency, all one hundred twenty dollars of it. “It’s not much, but it’s all I’ve got.”

  The young woman counted out his currency, then tapped a computer keyboard hidden by the counter. “At today’s rate, that would be a little under a fortieth of an ounce of gold or one point two ounces of silver. The only way we could pay you in gold would be a deposit to your account, as that amount is too small to handle physically. We could accommodate most of the silver in coin or certificates if you like, with only a bit as an electronic deposit. The transaction fee would only be point zero two four ounces of silver which we would have to take electronically.”

  “Okay. Let’s do it that way, then,” Bill said.

  “Great. I’ll need to see your bank card”.

  Bill dug his newly printed card out of his wallet and handed it over. She inserted it into a card reader on the counter and tapped the keyboard again. Then she handed Bill’s card back to him, along with three silver coins.

  “Here you are. One point one five ounces of silver. The remainder has been deposited in your account. Don’t spend it all in one place,” she finished with another smile.

  Bill fumbled as he attempted to put the coins, his card, and his wallet away. The coins went into a pocket, then the card into the wallet, and the wallet back into its pocket. After completing this masterful act, he looked back at the young woman and said, with his own smile, “Thanks. I’ll try not to.”

  Bill grabbed the cart handle again and begin walking toward the Corps of Discovery gate. The room had gotten even more crowded since he had first entered it. After several minutes of winding himself through groups of people, he finally arrived.

  The Corps of Discovery gate had an actual metal fence surrounding it, keeping unwanted people out. A young black man, older than Bill by a couple of years, but still in his twenties, was sitting at a desk behind the fence, reading from an e-book. Like Janice, he was dressed in the Corps of Discovery field uniform, with the same ribbons on his chest. Unlike Janice, he had a pistol strapped to his side. As Bill approached, the young man looked up and put the e-book face down on the desk. “Can I help you?”

  Bill nodded. “Sure can. Janice at the Corps office told to me come here to cross over to Hayek.”

  “Great,” he said, standing. “Got your ID? I’ll also need to take a DNA sample.”

  Bill figured he ought to be getting used to the DNA thing by now, considering just how many people obviously wanted to leave Earth. And this was only one of many such buildings scattered across the globe.

  The man pulled out a DNA swab from the desk before opening the gate so Bill could enter. A quick swab, a run through the analyzer, and the check was complete.

  “Congrats. Looks like you’re you,” the man said. “Why don’t you go stand by the gate over there?” He pointed toward a large metal frame, the size of a single-wide garage door, in front of the gray wall that made up part of the building. On the floor before it were yellow stripes in the middle and red stripes on either side. Arrows on the right side pointed toward the gate and arrows on the left side pointed away from it.

  “Go to the right-side lane, just in case anyone’s coming over this way. When you get on the other side there’ll be somebody there to help you out and get you started. It’ll be another ten minutes or so. I heard there’s another guy lined up to cross over, too.”

  Bill walked over to the gate, pulling his laden cart. As he approached it, he heard a clang. Turning around, he saw that the gate was closed and the young man was sitting down at his desk again, reading the e-book. It was then that Bill noticed the man had an artificial leg, as a titanium rod could be seen between the man’s shoe and pants cuff.

  Sure are a lot of amputees here, he thought.

  Bill was full of ques
tions, but it was apparent that the man had no interest in talking. Eventually, Bill pulled his tablet out of his messenger bag to search for the cell phone network, or maybe an open wi-fi. The screen came alive, showing his screensaver of a wooly mammoth on a hill. He touched the settings button. A public wi-fi was available.

  Bill checked his old email address one last time, hoping to see if there was one from Jessica. There wasn’t. Well, what the hell did you expect? he thought. It’s not like you didn’t tell her she was wasn’t worth it or anything. There were three emails, though, one from his former college roommate, Joe, one from the university he just graduated from, and one from the Corps of Discovery. He went through them in order.

  Joe’s email was short, wishing him good luck, and letting Bill know that anytime he wanted to, he was welcome at Joe’s place. Bill replied, thanking Joe, and telling him to look him up if he was ever on Hayek.

  The university email was also short, announcing that his diploma would be sent in a couple of months to the forwarding address he had provided and that his official transcripts showing that he had earned his bachelor’s degree were now available.

  The Corps of Discovery one was a bit longer, and unexpected. It welcomed him to the Corps and advised him of his email address and how to set the password. A link was provided to the server, with a comment that access to the server and email were only available on Hayek, and he should save this email on his hard drive or write down the information. It also gave him a schedule for the first couple of days, beginning in just a few days. The Corps moves pretty fast, he thought.

  Bill noticed that the first day was for an introduction to the Corps and Basic Militia Training orientation and equipment issue. He wondered just how much equipment would be issued, and what the training would be like.