Ranger's Quest- The Beginning Read online

  RANGER’S QUEST:

  The Beginning

  A Novel by

  EDWARD L GATES

  Edited by

  Sandra Vernon

  Copyright © 2018 Edward L. Gates

  All Rights Reserved

  Pending

  United Stated Copyright Office

  ISBN: 0996145710

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9961457-1-8

  Cover designed by:

  SelfPubBookCovers.com/ LadyLight

  This book is dedicated to the loving memory of

  The Bean.

  Those who know him, know why …

  Acknowledgements

  Although the thoughts and words in this novel are strictly those of the author, this book would not and could not have been written without the help, direction, cooperation, friendship and understanding of a lot of people and institutions. Those directly involved, and whom I relied on the most, are listed below. There have been others who have helped shape this story; too many to mention here. To all those, forgive me for not mentioning you by name, but you have my deepest and most sincere heart-felt thanks. I count on all of you in my life and will continue to do so.

  First and foremost, I want to thank my family. My wife, Barbara, and my children Ed and Jon were always in my corner. They always believed in me even when I had moments of self-doubt. Barbara is an endless source of encouragement and support. I want to thank her for being one of my toughest critics. Sometimes we didn’t agree, but she always presented a different perspective that made me think of new possibilities and viewpoints.

  I especially want to thank my editor, Sandra Vernon. She’s a terrific editor and took editing a step further, making suggestions that really tightened up the characters, the story line, and the story’s overall flow. What makes her so invaluable is that she found the obscure continuity issues that were in this story. I couldn’t have asked for anything better.

  To Candace and Steven Gates, thank you for taking your time to review this work as it was being written. Your equine and historical knowledge was priceless. Thank you for sharing your knowledge. And thank you for being my test reader and bringing to light historic deficiencies in the story. Your input and feedback were exactly what was needed to tighten up the story.

  Last, but not least, I want to thank The Prescott Review Group: Mary Ann Clarke, Judith March Davis, William T. Johnstone, Patricia Batta, and Dougal Reeves. All accomplished and brilliant authors in their own right. Thank you all for coming to my rescue on every chapter. I shudder to think how this book would have turned out without your invaluable insight and input. I am forever in your debt and at your service.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to any real persons, either living or dead, implied or otherwise, is purely coincidental. Certain names of people, businesses, and institutions in the mid-nineteenth century are a matter of historical record and are used throughout this story for the sole purpose of setting a scene and lending an air of authenticity to the story. Their names are used strictly as a historical reference and nothing more. There is no mention of their actions and or character in this story and none are implied.

  1

  Dinner and Tragedy

  August 8, 2275

  Archie Campbell felt it coming on during dessert. He had been fine all through drinks, dinner and dancing, but as the evening began to wind down things began to change. He felt the shakes and the tightness in his chest. Angel must have seen the shallow look in his eyes.

  “Are you feeling all right, hon?” she asked.

  The purple curtains covering the floor-to-ceiling windows of the dinner club seemed to be closing in on him. A fleeting moment of déjà vu brought on cold sweats and an internal feeling of impending doom. He was beginning to panic for no apparent reason. The electric candles in the middle of the table, flickering their counterfeit flame, caught his eye and he became mesmerized in their glow. A bead of sweat appeared on Archie’s forehead that he dabbed away with his napkin. He looked at James and his new wife sitting across the table from him and excused himself to the restroom.

  This is ridiculous, he thought as he stared at himself in the mirror. The overwhelming fear of inadequacy didn’t just creep into his mind, it exploded. He knew at any moment he would say the wrong thing, do something stupid or somehow make a fool of himself. It was a pattern he knew all too well. His therapist had told him over and over that the fear was just a product of his mind, but he just couldn’t help his thoughts and he couldn’t stop them. He’d had this affliction since he was a child. Everyone thought his condition would get better as he got older, but it obviously hadn’t.

  Archie started to practice the relaxation techniques his therapist provided him, but they weren’t working. He tried to recall the litany of affirmation verses he was given, but none came to mind. All he could think of was going to work later tonight and not measuring up to his father’s expectations. He worried about not being a good enough man for Angel, the girl he hoped would be his wife if he ever got up the nerve to ask her.

  He wished he could put his finger on what thought or event or sound or smell triggered these anxiety attacks in him. If he ever found out, he would gladly have that trigger erased from his memory. In 2275 memory extractions were being done on a routine basis in most facilities. The problem was, it was considered an elective procedure and not covered by government care. He would have to pay for it with his own credits. But it would be worth it to have these panic attacks eliminated.

  The evening had been wonderful up to this point. Archie hadn’t seen James since they graduated from college two years ago. James was in New York for a few days with his new bride and had contacted Archie for a brief reunion, wanting to show off his wife to his best college buddy. Archie suggested an evening at a Manhattan dinner club, but it had to be early since he had to work the night shift at his father’s travel port. He didn’t mind the night shift because his father worked the day shift. They rarely saw each other, which was just fine with Archie.

  Archie pounded his fist on the mirror as tears formed in his eyes from his despair.

  “Get a hold of yourself!” he said out loud. “It’s just dinner with your friends.” He looked at the pathetic pale figure in the mirror staring back at him with blurry, tear-filled eyes. “You’re an idiot! There’s nothing wrong! Snap out of it.”

  The restroom door opened, and another restaurant patron walked in. Archie quickly splashed some water in his face and pressed the button on the towel dispenser. A warm disposable towel fell into Archie’s hands and he wiped his face. He started to breathe a little easier. A couple of deep breaths with his eyes closed started to relax him. The color was returning to his cheeks.

  “You all right, buddy?” the patron asked as he approached the bank of sinks along one wall.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Archie replied. He smiled at the gentleman, “A little too much scotch, I think.”

  The man laughed as he left the restroom. Archie once again placed the towel on his face and kept it against his skin, absorbing the warmth. It was relaxing. Then there was a beep in his ear from the implanted communication nanobots. He looked at the data assistant he wore on his wrist. It was his reminder alarm that he had to leave for work. He shook his head. “Damn.” Maybe the thought of work was his anxiety trigger.

  Archie ran his hands through his sandy brown hair, put on his best “I’m OK” smile and returned to the table.

  “Sorry about that,” he said as he sat back down at the table he’d occupied for the past three hours. Angel reached over and touched his hand. She looked concerned. “I’m fine,” Archie said and flashed a smile. “Really, it’s fine.” He pa
tted her hand.

  “How about one more round of drinks?” James asked.

  “I’d love to, but I already had two and that has to be enough,” Archie said with a smile. “Besides, as much as I hate to be the bearer of bad news, I’m afraid I have to call it an evening. I’ve got to get Angel home and get on to work.”

  He looked at Angel and smiled. She returned the smile. Archie knew that Angel was expecting this time to come. Most of their evenings had gone the same way and they were getting used to leaving dates and parties early. After a brief argument over who was going to scan their credits to cover the check, they all said their farewells in the restaurant’s lobby, promising to stay in touch and get together again at everyone’s earliest convenience.

  The ride back to Angel’s apartment was short. She asked if he had time to come in for a while. As much as he wanted to, he declined the offer. He was already running late and knew he would not make it to work on time as it was. A long passionate kiss goodnight and he pulled himself away from her.

  “You’re a temptress,” he whispered in her ear. “How can I leave now?”

  She giggled and smiled back. “Just think what great nights await us when you get to the day shift,” she said softly and sensually as she backed away from him. She placed her hand on the ID panel of her apartment door. The light over the door lit and the reader scanned her palm.

  “Voice Recognition,” a mechanical voice announced.

  “Angel Marks,” Angel replied in a normal voice and her apartment door slid open. She stepped inside casting a slight smile and a brief wave over her shoulder to Archie. Then the door quickly closed, leaving him standing alone in the hallway longing for one more kiss and a night off.

  His personal transportation unit, PT, was programmed to travel only at posted speeds. It couldn’t be overridden. As a result, he arrived at his station late, a lot later than he had planned. The operator he was relieving was quite upset with him arriving so late.

  “I’m sorry,” Archie said as he entered his station in a rush. “I was out with some old friends I hadn’t seen in a while. The evening got away from me. Sorry.”

  “This is happening way too much, Arch,” the evening operator said. “You better watch it. I don’t care if your old man runs the place or not. I can’t keep covering your ass. I got a life, too, ya know.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I promise,” Archie said. After a pause, he asked “How was your night?”

  “Slow,” the operator replied. “Looks like you got a slow night yourself. No departures at all and only three arrivals.”

  “Any problems?” Archie asked.

  “Naw. Everything’s running like it’s supposed to.” The operator pressed a button on his tablet and a virtual display of the night’s schedule hovered in the air above the tablet. He handed the tablet to Archie. “It’s all yours. I’m out of here. See you tomorrow.”

  The operator left. Archie went to the desk and touched another spot on his tablet; the virtual display transferred to a larger display floating above his desk. A lady was expected to arrive in just about an hour. The next traveler would arrive two hours after that. The last traveler wasn’t due until early in the morning, just before Archie got relieved by the day shift. Usually he hated slow nights. Time seemed to drag by. However, tonight he was tired and a slow night would allow him to catch up on some much-needed rest.

  Archie went to the transportation hub and checked all seals, locks and gauges. He ran the system checks and everything checked out fine. This traveler was coming from Japan. He put the hub online and sent the signal to the Japan port that the hub was ready to receive. Archie returned to his desk and began scanning the news reports of the day, August 8, 2275.

  At half past midnight, a short horn blast startled Archie. It was the signal from Japan that the scheduled traveler was being readied on their side for teleportation. Archie went to the hub and made a last system check. All appeared fine. He put on his tinted glasses and stood by. After a moment came a bright flash of blue light and a loud snap of electricity, and there lying in the hub was a middle-aged Japanese lady. Archie shut the hub vacuum down, opened the chamber door and waited for her to regain consciousness.

  After a few minutes, the traveler woke with a start. Archie was right there to help the lady from the hub to a comfortable easy chair at the station. Through an automated translation device in the tablet, Archie administered a quick series of tests to verify her cognitive and motor reflexes. When all was well, he directed her to the receiving station so she could check in.

  Archie returned to his desk and rechecked the schedule. The next traveler was a man coming from San Francisco. He checked the time; one and a half hours before he arrives.

  “Damn, I’ll never stay awake that long.”

  Archie returned to the transportation hub and reset it to receive. He checked the entire system and once again everything checked out fine. He put the hub online and notified San Francisco that the hub was ready to receive. He returned to his desk, put his feet up and leaned back in his chair. It wasn’t long before he dozed off to sleep.

  At 2:30 AM, Archie was woken by a short horn blast signaling that San Francisco was ready to transmit. Archie yawned and went over to the hub, put on his glasses, and waited for the incoming traveler. He didn’t recheck the system. If he had, he would have noticed the blinking error light on the console. He was trying to remember the steps he normally took for incoming travelers. Oh, yeah, a final system check. He turned to the console to verify the system readiness and that’s when he noticed the blinking red light. Panic coursed through his body and he froze, his mind still a little foggy from just waking up. He couldn’t think of what to do. The failsafe system should shut everything down. But it didn’t. The anxiety and fear once again took over his rational mind. He wasn’t sure why, but somehow his attention was directed to the pressure gauge. There was no vacuum.

  “Oh my God!” He had to shut this system down. A traveler was about to be sent to his death. Archie hesitated for a split second and then reached for the emergency shut-off switch -- but before he got to it, the room was filled with a bright flash of blue light and a muffled snap of electricity that seemed to drag on a little too long. He was too late.

  Alarms immediately sounded and red and yellow emergency lights began to flash everywhere. Through main control, the teleportation hub began to systematically power itself down. Archie was in a state of shock. He didn’t want to look at the hub but couldn’t stop himself from turning around. The glass hub was covered with a red and purple bloody mass that, seconds before, had been a living, breathing human being from San Francisco.

  His personal data assistant began chirping in his ear. The intercom in his station was buzzing. He could hear people running towards his station. He looked up and saw security forces overriding the locked door of his teleportation station. He knew that he was responsible for the man’s death. He was in big trouble. Those security forces, called Enforcers, weren’t coming to help; they were coming for him.

  2

  Escape

  August 9, 2275

  Archie moved to his desk as if in a trance. He felt detached from the happenings going on around him. It seemed to him that he was watching the commotion from afar, outside his body. He watched the security and emergency team rush by him to inspect the hub. They stood around the hub talking and pointing and trying to decide what needed to be done. But he didn’t hear them. It was only a matter of time before they would turn their attention to him. His mind kept screaming at him to run away.

  When his state of shock began to subside, he decided he had to get out of there. He had to hide. While they were all gathered around the hub, Archie slipped unnoticed through the open door of the port. He ran into a corridor that snaked through the first-floor offices. His father’s office was at the end of one of these hallways. He reached the end of a corridor and stood in front of the secured double doors of his father’s office. He knew by now th
at the Enforcers would be scanning the hallways looking for him.

  The Enforcers knew exactly where he was all the time. Every room, every office and every hallway were under constant surveillance. Even his father’s secure office was on the surveillance link. Plus, the nanobots implanted in Archie’s ear were traceable. If they wanted to, the Enforcers could track anybody, anywhere and listen in on any of their conversations.

  Being the son of the chief operations officer for the six travel ports located across the eastern United States and Canada has certain advantages. One of those advantages was knowing the codes to open his father’s office doors, a code that only a few people alive knew. It was the only avenue left to him. He knew his palm scan would fail so he tapped the screen in a specific pattern and a selection menu displayed. He selected override from the menu.

  “Override code ID,” the mechanical voice said.

  Archie quickly tapped in his father’s ID code.

  “Override pattern,” the voice said.

  Archie keyed in a series of four sets of characters. Each set was repeated and verified by the system. After the last set was entered, he heard the office doors unlatch. Archie quickly stepped in and closed the door. Once inside he keyed in the security code and the doors locked. The only light in the room was from the door panel display screen.

  “Desk!” Archie shouted, and a dim light illuminated from the top of his father’s interactive desk. The desk itself began to glow with various images and information from around the six complexes. Archie had been in this office many times; in his younger days he would play in this office while his father concentrated on his work. Recently, however, he had been brought into this office to be belittled and reprimanded by his father. He could just imagine what his father would say about the events of this evening.