Lives of Future-Past (The Chronicles of Max Gunnarsson Book 1)

BOOK: Lives of Future-Past (The Chronicles of Max Gunnarsson Book 1)
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The Chronicles of Max Gunnarsson Book One

 

 


 Lives of Future-Past

 

 

By SK Benton



 

Copyright 2014 © SK Benton 

All rights reserved

 

             
 

 

     This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
     Further, this book is not intended as a substitute for the medical advice of physicians. The reader should regularly consult a physician in matters relating to his/her health and particularly with respect to any symptoms that may require diagnosis or medical attention, and most definitely not try to use magic of any sort because it really does not exist in our world - as far as we know. 
     If you are experiencing rotting of the skin and/or body parts, you are certainly not a vampire – it is most probably leprosy or flesh-eating bacteria, so go see a doctor - immediately. Avoid playgrounds and public transportation. Likewise, if you believe that you change into a raging canine under the full moon then we suggest you go see a psychiatrist. Preferably one who prescribes ample quantities of antipsychotic medications.
     If any of these symptoms imaginarily happen to you while you are role-playing at ComiCon® then you should be fine, so have a beer when you are done. You never know, we might join you.

 

Note: Whenever you see a number surrounded by brackets and parenthesis like (*12*) this is an optional playlist indicator. You can go to
www.maxgunnarsson.com/playlist.cfm
and click on the link of the same number to hear a recommended song for that part of the chapter.
Like a different song? Contact us at the site and let us know!
 

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1 - Jennie and The Hub

Chapter 2 – Max Gunnarsson

Chapter 3 – Welcome to Old-Earth

Chapter 4 – Bagatelle on Watch

Chapter 5 – Hello, Draagh

Chapter 6 – Hidden Agenda

Chapter 7 – Vid Time

Chapter 8 – Busted, with Benefits

Chapter 9 – Learning Stuff

Chapter 10 – Packing

Chapter 11 – Welcome to Future-Past

Chapter 12 – Meet Krynos, your King

Chapter 13 – Training Begins

Chapter 14 – My HUD

Chapter 15 – Let’s Learn Magic

Chapter 16 – Recon Time

Chapter 17 – Fight!

Chapter 18 – Aftermath

Chapter 19 – Let’s Dance

Chapter 20 – Bagatelle Betrayed

Chapter 21 – Jennie Betrayed

Chapter 22 – Banishment

Chapter 23 – Wolftime!

Chapter 24 – Battle of the Blood

Chapter 25 – Liliana to the Rescue

Chapter 26 – Regeneration

Chapter 27 – Celebration

Epilogue

Glossary of Terms

 

Prologue
 

     The planet known as Earth provides a rich history, quite dissimilar from the billions upon billions of inhabited worlds in the visible universe. While most cultures were quickly discovered and nurtured throughout their difficult beginnings by their older intergalactic brothers, Earth stood nearly alone, on the edge of Orion, a minor spiral arm of the Milky Way Galaxy, unknowingly watched by those of immense power who nearly always chose a path of non-interference. These beings would observe all from their timeless dimension, known only as The Hub, from which all time/space emanated. They were patient, as they held the secrets of the universe in their hands and they had all eternity in which to wait.
     Man’s beginnings were precarious, to say the least, and with great anticipation his supervisors analyzed his initial struggle for survival against extinction. From his first steps of self-awareness, to kingdoms that spanned entire continents, he constantly fought and battled to advance his own cause.  He was truly a marvelous creation, and had pleased his invisible mentors immensely.  Although they chose to stay out of sight and mind, leaving man to his own devices, they did tinker a bit, providing some bloodlines with enhanced genetics to see how he would fare.
     Certain few men of character learned to harness the energies that flowed within every living thing on their world - energies that allowed them to care, heal and build. These men stood above and apart, and although small in numbers, they spread out over the planet to become consultants to leaders great and strong, offering advice, and sometimes even prodding their lieges in the proper direction when darkness showed its evil countenance.
    There were also others who had superior abilities, thanks to the watchers’ thoughtful manipulations - the noble lycans, created to be the soldiers of merit and honor, faithfully defended Man’s free spirit and his ability to mold the world into one of greatness – so that he might one day take his rightful place among the myriad of ascended species in the universe.

    However, for every yin there is a yang, and there were also those who craved the darkness, only kept in check by the lycans, who contrasted them in nearly every manner. These lovers of death naturally evolved to subsist on the life waters of the innocent and to prey on the weak. Such had become their way.
      Over time these malcontents grew in strength and numbers, and they disrupted the delicate balance of light and dark on a world so young. So, the observers decided to end their test, and determined that Man should not be able to touch nature in such an intimate manner. They stripped Man of all of his abilities – which quickly faded into rumor, then legend, and then were almost completely forgotten.
    Man then did something that surprised his watchers - he improvised. Using his own mind and hands, he started to grasp upon the powers of the universe through the use of technology. Iron turned to steel. Vacuum tubes turned to printed circuit boards. As each discovery led to the next he continued learning until he found quadrinium, buried deep in the planet, waiting to be forged into usefulness.

     Building strong, spacefaring ships of quadrinium and peering through lenses that enabled him to see distant parts of the galaxy, he set off for the stars, traveling across the spiral arm to build a new world, seeking to correct the errors he had made during his short time on Earth. But nature is as nature does, and he soon found himself facing evil of another form - and of another part of the Milky Way. His minders, who had sat for so many centuries watching in silence, again found it necessary to re-enable the gifts so quickly taken from him in the past.
     However, this time they would do so in small steps, starting with a young man on a distant planet.

Chapter 1 - Jennie and The Hub
 

     An annoyingly loud alarm clock sounded off at 0500 hours, prompting a delicate, copper-colored hand to lazily reach over and slap the snooze button. Five minutes later the alarm went off again, and the same hand hit the snooze button, this time a bit harder, but Jennie knew it was time to get up - discipline required it.   

     Partially pulling her pillow from over her head with a groan, she slowly opened one of her enormous, cocoa-brown eyes, both of which were still messily surrounded by generous amounts of smudged eyeliner, which she had declined to remove the night before. Her going away party was epic, as was the top-shelf tequila she was drinking with a guy she liked a lot, so when she got back to her apartment she simply walked over to her bed and quite unceremoniously fell into it. 

     Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes (and smearing her eyeliner even more), she slid out of her bed, tiredly squinting as she picked up and read the semi-transparent paperscreen on her bedside table. It was addressed to Lt. Jennifer Escalante; the document being a defined detail on her new orders. As she fully came out of her sleepy state, her eyes lit up - as much as they could with a mild hangover. The big day had arrived - she was being transferred to the Revolution, the newest, largest starship in her planet’s Navy, along with her commanding officer. Captain Bagatelle had been promoted to Rear Admiral, and was taking her with him as he had done on all of his previous transfers since she had served under his command, which was basically since she had graduated from the military academy.    

      Jennie stumbled a couple of meters over to the bathroom mirror, wearing nothing but a pair of panties. Looking at herself she shook her head; after showering she had to at least fix her hair and makeup before she went to the spaceport. No time to hit the salon. Looking at her hands she determined that her nails were fine, even though she never really paid a lot of attention to them. 
     Then, standing sideways, she admired her figure up and down, wondering if her breasts would ever start to sag. They were, to be precise, perfect, just as was her bulbous poto (butt). She was fortunate, as most women who reached her level of beauty had done so via gen-mods, or genetic modifications. She had no such need, which was usually the case for degas – women of Old-Earth South American descent. In general, the only degas who did go through the gen-mod process were ones who were ashamed of their heritage, and had their swarthy skin tone lightened and made more bacho-like (more like a Caucasian).    

     Jennie was not only proud of her heritage - she flaunted it. Whenever she entered a room men stopped what they were doing just to look at her - something she would never get tired of. She was beautiful in nearly every sense of the word – lustrous hair, not too tall and not too short at 165 cm and 52 kg in weight (5’5” and 120 lbs. in extinct standard measurements), lovely dark eyes, full lips and just enough muscle tone to make her strong but retain her femininity. The majority of female ground troops in the military would go through gen-mods to make themselves overly muscular so they could be on par with male troops, and while there were some guys and gals who liked that kind of look, the majority maintained the ideal that Jennie represented to the extreme.    

     Besides the fact that she was an officer on a naval vessel and would never see ground combat, she didn’t need to gen-mod for strength, as she was naturally stronger than anyone even remotely close to her size. She even jumped into the boxing ring with modded female soldiers for a couple of rounds every now and then, nearly always winning against the huge, oddly marked women who usually sported the latest rage in body art – animated tattoos. These designs were driven by what amounted to a sheet of nanobots that functioned like a vid display under the epidermis layer of the skin. This enabled them to perform preprogrammed tasks – everything from a simple animation to playing a video to creating an advertisement for a good or service. These tattoos were especially desired by prostitutes, who used them as glow-in-the-dark call-outs for their clients. However, Jennie had no desire to mark up her body, even temporarily. Her radiant skin was in itself naturally beautiful, and needed no such enhancements.  

     Slipping a standard-issue tank top over her head, she let it fall gently into place onto her shoulders. At her age she didn’t need to wear a bra, although she did whenever in uniform, per regulations. Even a tank top looked amazing on her, and she would usually wear only that and some skimpy running shorts when going to the gym for a workout – eliciting stares from virtually everyone in her vicinity. She pulled her black, shoulder-length hair back and tied it off in a ponytail. Then, calling out to her personal console, she requested music from a predefined playlist.

     She was a true fan of archaic pop/rock music from the late 20th to mid-21st century, much to the displeasure of anyone within earshot. To her, current music was too artificial and droll. Ever since entertainment was completely generated by AI (artificial intelligence) it had lost a certain edge. The slight imperfections made it perfect in her mind.    (*1*)

     She then started going through her morning dental ritual – her teeth were pearly white and perfect, and she intended to keep them that way. She had never required dental implants or even corrective braces, and one of the things she remembered her dentist telling her when she was young was only floss the teeth you want to keep. It was meant to scare her, and it did.    

     Finishing flossing and brushing, she danced around her room as the music blared in the background, singing and envisioning the song’s vid that she had seen at least a hundred times. After she was satisfied that she had crafted her simple, yet effective look, she pulled her military dress whites out of her closet and set them down on her bed. She had already packed her duffel for transit to the Revolution, but as an officer she was required to show up to a new duty assignment in her ceremonial uniform.  
 

     Before dressing down, Jennie left her room and went straight for the living area, sauntering along to her music, which she had turned down just a tad. Her roommate was already cooking a typical breakfast – jraxon eggs and ham (jraxon being an indigenous fowl-like creature).    

     “Morning Becks!”

     Jennie greeted her roommate, Becky Branson, the same way every morning when she wasn't out on deployment. Becky was also military, but worked in the science division. The woman wasn't stunning like Jennie – she was very plain, as was her boyfriend Josh, who was not only plain, but also a total nerd– a skinny, tech-type with poorly groomed hair and a tendency to snort whenever he laughed. She always thought of Josh wearing glasses, which no one wore anymore as no one was born with defective vision thanks to prenatal gen-mods (which were restricted to vision, disfigurement and hereditary diseases). Of course, sunglasses were worn, even though gen-mods could give anyone the ability to tint their vision – but some people still liked to accessorize with facial wear, or simply didn't have the time or money to go through the enhancement process.      

     Jennie didn’t mind Josh, or even whenever he stayed over, but she did find it annoying when he talked to her because he never looked her in the eyes – he usually focused on her breasts, which were hard to miss that morning as she bounced around the living room, wearing only her underwear while thoroughly enjoying her music.  

     Her white tank top contrasted attractively with her copper-colored skin, and would easily catch anyone’s eye – involuntarily or otherwise. Now, she wouldn’t mind if he were someone like Ryder, the officer she had been dating on and off for the past few weeks, but Josh had a creepy, leering look about him. Fortunately, he was good at hiding his stares from Becky, who loved him very much and would have been absolutely devastated if she suspected that he secretly harbored a crush on the dega. Jennie knew they fit each other well, and she was sure the two would get married one day – in a geeky wedding, and probably in some sort of costume theme. Jennie wanted to get married one day too, but not to a science geek – she wanted somebody powerful, with connections – like Ryder Johnson, the man with whom she was sharing copious amounts of tequila the night before.    

     Becky just smiled sadly, knowing that her roommate and best friend would be leaving in minutes for her new deployment. Even though she would be back every two weeks, it was lonely without Jennie around. She practically idolized her friend. While many women were jealous of the lieutenant’s looks, Becky looked beyond the surface and loved her roommate for the person who she was, even though Jennie was a bit shallow.    

     “So Josh, anything new in the geek factory these days?” Jennie was being sarcastic, and Josh new it, but it was her way of telling him not to look for headlights poking out of her tank top. He quickly averted his stare and mumbled back while poking at his eggs.    

     “Naw, just doing nerdy things in a nerdy way – you know us, always on the cutting edge.”    

     “Josh has been trying to get into the SSCC department, but they keep telling him to wait,” said Becky, with no small amount of disappointment in her voice. The SSCC department was the latest and greatest in the military science division, and Josh had been applying ever since it was created, so far with zero success.    

     “Aw, keep trying, sweetie – you’ll get there,” Jennie said with a bit of unexpected compassion, “I can’t wait until they put that stuff on a ship and we can get to other planets – now THAT would be cool. As it is, my new ship has be pre-retrofit so whenever the Feds give the word the engineers can install SSCC tech in space, without even docking planet-side.”    

     Josh looked up briefly, eyes scanning up and down her torso before he looked back down at his plate. It wasn’t that he wanted to look at her, it was that he couldn’t help it.    

     Jennie ignored Josh’s stares and imagined being able to go to neighboring star systems, but not on one of the deep-space vehicles, as they were usually out for months at a time. Nearly everyone in the military wanted to see SSCC technology installed on the fleet, and more than a few wanted to return to the world of their ancestors – Earth. It had taken Mankind 300 years to arrive at their world, but with SSCC they could return in roughly a week.    

     “Jen sweetie, have some desa (breakfast). You probably won’t eat for a while,” Becky said as she handed her friend a steaming plate of fried eggs and ham.

     Jennie kindly accepted the plate with a smile and wolfed it down with virtually no table manners. She was never one to eat with any sort of etiquette – it was her one fault as a pretty girl. She did try to use a bit of elegance when dining out, but usually refrained from eating on dates, knowing that any rational man would look at her with horror as she shoveled food down her throat like a hungry quadrinium miner. To her, eating was a required function, not something to be used to impress people.  

      Josh didn’t seem to mind the way she ate – he probably wouldn’t have minded watching her eat a live gerbil. Not that he was into weird eating fetishes; it was just that Jennie was good-looking enough to get away with virtually anything. To him, she even made eating like a pig look sexy.    

     After finishing inhaling her breakfast she popped over and kissed Becky on the cheek.    

     “Hey Becks, I gotsta get dressed – new duty assignment starts today! Woohoo!”    

     “Ok roomie. You go get ‘em! And message me about you and Ryder.”    

     Becky knew that there was more than one reason why Jennie was excited about her new assignment. Ryder was also transferred to her ship, and he had told Jennie that his father arranged for it - and being as his dad was a permanent member of the Federal Security Council he usually got what he wanted.    

     Jennie smiled and wiggled her brow, knowing her roommate loved salacious details about her adventures with guys - Becky jokingly referring to Jennie’s love life as Lifestyles of the Tan and Stacked. Jennie had dated a lot of very attractive men, but never accepted any proposals of any sort – she was waiting for the big one, and she thought that maybe Ryder would be the right guy for her.    

     “Yeah hun – I’ll let you know. But don’t expect anything overly descriptive. Not my style, ya know?” She grinned and then turned around and slapped Josh in the back of the head.    

     “You take care of roomie, ok dork? Get out of line and I’ll have to kick your ass.”    

     Josh didn’t even bother looking at her – he knew she was only half-kidding, but that meant that she was also half-serious. Jennie left the living area going back to her room, looking back and winking at Becky before she shut her door to change.    

     Once she had put on her uniform, which consisted of a white jacket and slacks with orange stripe accents - her world’s colors – and a white Australian-style slouch hat, left side pinned up in the classic bush style of centuries before (which was actually done to allow a soldier to sling a rifle over his shoulder without hitting the brim), she grabbed her duffel and used her private door to the hallway, preferring not to go through a tear-laden goodbye with Becky. She took the stairs down to the first level (always taking stairs whenever possible as it helped to keep her legs toned) and hailed a cab once she was on the street. The tubular-looking vehicle floated down and a door automatically opened, beckoning her to enter.    

     “BlueMil Spaceport, please. Entrance Zeta,” she stated, once she had entered into the cab. The automated transport then dutifully zipped up into the overhead traffic and went straight to her requested destination. Then, after a short shuttle of one hour she would dock with the Revolution, starting the next phase of her career.

BOOK: Lives of Future-Past (The Chronicles of Max Gunnarsson Book 1)
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