The Paratime Police Chronicles, Volume II by John F Carr & H Beam Piper

Author:John F Carr & H Beam Piper [Carr, John F & Piper, H Beam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pequod Press
Published: 2020-10-21T00:00:00+00:00

THE ALEXANDER AFFAIR

JOHN F. CARR

I

1967 A.D.

Davran Thal was sitting at the console in front of the visiscreen as he tallied up the Parian marble statues and red-figure pottery he was about to send back to First Level. He looked up when he heard the whoosh of a door opening into the transposition depot chamber buried deep underneath the factory floor.

Coming out of the portal was his friend and fellow Paratimer, Halthar Varn. “Hello Varn, I expected you back two ten-days ago?”

Halthar shook his head. “I used up some more of my leave time. Bored and tired is what I am. I not only hate this boring time-line, but the people who sent us here!”

They both had five-year outtime contracts with Vendrax Luxury Imports to locate and ship luxury goods from the Fourth Level Alexandrian-Roman, Seleuco-Macedonian Subsector where the civilization was frozen at the pre-industrial stage and the most recent innovation was the horse collar. A stage where it had remained static for the past two thousand years. Progress was as foreign to this subsector as good hygiene. In truth, one became accustomed to the smell of unwashed humanity, but never to the sameness of each day and the dreary stone and mud-block buildings of Alexandria.

In this subsector Alexander the Great had lived long enough to conquer most of the known world. After he died without issue, Seleucia I Nicator became regent of Alexander’s empire and eventually consolidated his power by assassination and military domination. Davran doubted old Seleucia Nicator would have found many changes in this time-line, other than its size, were he to be brought back to life. All Davran knew was that there hadn’t been anything new or different since he’d arrived some three and a half years ago. Nor would there be when he left in another year and a half—if he could last that long.

“Believe it or not, I’ve come up with something to break the monotony of this hellhole,” Davran declared.

“What?” Halthar asked, frowning. “You’re not using Black Henbane again, are you? The last time you used that drug you went into convulsions. Even the priestesses of Apollo have to be careful when using it for their oracles.”

Davran dismissed his friend’s concerns with a wave of his hand. “I was experimenting with different dosages and additives. I believe I added too much nightshade. But, I don’t take Henbane anymore—too dangerous. This is something new.”

Halthar gave him the same kind of look his crèche mother used to give him when he returned disheveled and late at night from one of his outings in Old Town Dhergabar.

“No, this is completely different. I’ve been going to the taverna, the Bronze Bulls. I’ve set up microdots for recording on all the tables so I can overhear conversations.”

“Sounds boring to me,” Halthar responded.

“Maybe, but not always. But it’s not gossip or scandals I’m looking for. I’m picking up background information which I can use later in my new game.”

“Game? What are you taking about…? These locals are dangerous. Their man-god emperor has all the powers of a total despot.

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