The Best of All Possible Worlds

  The Best of All Possible Worlds

  Temple Islands [4]

  Richard D. Parker

  (2012)

  * * *

  Rating: ★★★★★

  For seventeen years Gwaynn and Samantha have ruled peacefully over the lands of the Inland Sea as High King and Queen. All is well. The twins, Arnot and Avigail are nearly finished with their education on the Temple Islands. Over the years they have become Travelers, Scholars and rudimentary healers. Now they are ready for their final test, the test of Noble Island, where they will be under the tutelage of Tarina Vio Valencia.

  Under the care of the famed Tarina, the twins will hone their fighting skills and be introduced to the subtle secrets of the Solitaries. From Vio, they will discover the very nature of time and space. It is a hard lesson to master, but the twins are excellent students and Avigail will lead the way. After her lengthy visit to the Far Lands, the legendary Galen Dawkins appears to Avigail in her dreams, pleading for her to find his world and protect him. Avigail quickly becomes obsessed with Galen, his world, and the danger that stalks him. She will stop at nothing to find him, to go to him and to save him.

  With Arnot’s help, Avigail believes she can bridge the gap between worlds and finally come face to face with the man that haunts her dreams. But when the twins surprisingly succeed in connecting the lands of the Inland Sea with Old Earth, events quickly explode out of their control. Avigail is torn away from her brother and thrown into the confusing and dangerous modern world, where her life is in constant peril. It is up to Arnot to summon the courage and use all of his power to find Galen’s strange world and reunite with his sister.

  The Best of all Possible Worlds

  By

  Richard D. Parker

  The Temple Islands Series

  Book One: The Black Horseman

  Book Two: Assassin of the Heart

  Book Three: Elsewhere

  Book Four: The Best of all Possible Worlds

  For Dale and Sharon, my parents, who have given me all the love and support a son could ask for. I love you both.

  Copyright © 2012 Richard D. Parker

  All right reserved

  394

  The Best of all Possible Worlds is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locals is entirely coincidental.

  Author’s note:

  The Best of all Possible Worlds is a work of fiction, a flight of fancy, as is a great deal of the science within it. But I have strived very hard to make the novel as believable as possible. Any mistakes within are mine and mine alone. I have given credit where credit is due and sincerely regret any omissions. But please remember, just because the world in this novel seems familiar does not mean it represents the one we all live in. After all there are an infinite number of worlds around us, and a great many just like ours.

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  November 14th, 3199 Temple Islands

  Terror gripped Lynn Doyle as she clung to the light pole with all her strength. Her arms were getting shaky and she could feel her grip slipping little by little as the freak windstorm raged on. Matt yelled to her, but with the wind howling in her ears she couldn’t make out what he was saying. He was having a much easier time of it, of course he was nearly one hundred pounds heavier, plus he had the good fortune of latching on to a parking meter. Lynn screamed as her left hand slipped a bit and her hold on the pole became tenuous. She didn’t know what was happening, the old Courthouse was gone and in its place was a large, circular opening in space that led to somewhere else; somewhere decidedly strange. Lynn could see an open field in the foreground and then a host of people, all dressed peculiarly, a good portion of them on horseback, and beyond the people; she could see the ocean. The ocean for Christ’s sake! You were not supposed to be able to see the ocean from St. Louis, Missouri. Lynn screamed again, confused and scared, as her hands began to slowly slip from the pole. Her feet were now flapping straight out behind her as if she were some sort of human flag. She knew she couldn’t hang on much longer, the storm had to abate soon, but it didn’t and suddenly it raged all the more. Lynn’s eyes began to water as her hands slid slowly along the metal pole. Panicking, she tried to dig into the steel pole with her fingers, but her efforts were futile and she broke two nails in the attempt. And then suddenly she was airborne. She screamed again, now utterly terrified.

  ‘I guess I won’t be seeing the Cardinals play,’ she thought hysterically and then hit the ground hard and tumbled over and over as the wind hurled her along, like a leaf in autumn. She banged her shoulder hard on a large rock, flipped over and over again until suddenly she felt a hand reach out and grab a hold of her left leg. Miraculously, she came to a sudden stop, and desperately gripped the arm of her rescuer, like a drowning victim to a lifeguard.

  The young man yelled something unintelligible, trying to be heard over the wind. Lynn did not understand, but she tightened her grip on him nevertheless. It was obvious he meant her no harm and was trying to save her from the worst of the storm, so she clutched at him with all her might and was even able to come to a sitting position. She glanced back into the teeth of the wind. She caught sight of Matt, still hanging on and gazing her direction and then the family of three, their backs to her, stepped through the opening and it disappeared with a loud crack that echoed like thunder. Abruptly everything was eerily quiet, and then Lynn Doyle began to scream. She was not completely aware that she was screaming; her mind was in turmoil. Matt was gone! Her world was gone! She was somewhere else, somewhere slightly cold though it was nearly August, and everyone was dressed as if for a renaissance festival. There were horses for Pete’s sake, a lot of horses…and swords…and armor! The young man holding her tried to hush her, but Lynn screamed all the more. Where was she? Who were these people?

  ‘I’m definitely not in Kansas anymore, but that’s a good thing. No one wanted to be in Kansas…ever!’ She thought hysterically, as any decent alum of the University of Missouri would. Lynn stopped screaming and started to laugh. It was a dangerous, unhealthy sound and the man holding her leaned away. Seeing his expression, Lynn laughed all the harder. Suddenly there were two women close, kneeling by her side and each was holding a newborn babe. They were staring at her with a mixture of awe and suspicion. They were both young, but one, the one with the dark hair, was clearly a teenager. They’re expressions quickly changed to concern.

  They spoke, but Lynn did not understand and shied from them and then the younger one reached out and touched her arm. Lynn jerked and began screaming again. She was lost and actually felt her mind slip a bit, but then the baby in the arms of the kneeling girl began to cry. Lynn’s screaming came to an abrupt halt. She gazed at the little bundle almost wistfully. She was twenty-five, unmarried with few prospects. Matt…well Matt liked the boys just as much as she did; problem was t
he boys seemed to like Matt more than they liked her.

  The group around her continued to try to communicate with her, they kept their voices soft and calming but she could not understand a word they were saying, and didn’t even recognize what language they were speaking. She ignored them, her attention on the crying infant. She reached out a bit too quickly and the dark haired girl jerked back in alarm, but then Lynn looked up into her eyes and the girl could see she meant no harm. The dark haired girl moved forward and angled the baby so Lynn could see it better. The poor thing was still crying, probably scared, and Lynn reached out again, slowly this time, and rubbed a little soft arm with just the tip of her finger. The baby stopped crying instantly, turned her head and smiled at Lynn Doyle, Missouri native. It was Avigail’s very first smile.

  April 23rd 2010 Old Earth

  Antonio Papianni swiped his identification card through the electronic reader mounted along the side of the door. There were no flashing lights or audible clicks indicating anything had transpired but the handle turned easily and the door opened nonetheless. He entered the room quietly, though it was nearly midnight and the building was all but deserted. Maurizio, the lone night guard was two levels below, probably sleeping…or perhaps, by some miracle, walking his rounds. Antonio did not care, he had access to the labs and would occasionally come in late at night to work or just poke around when he could not sleep, after all he only lived two blocks to the east.

  But Antonio was not working now…at least not for the church, instead he was working for himself. The American was here, staying at the Mercure Royal and he had the money. With Americans it was always about money but Antonio had grown tired of his meager life and his inner American was coming out. Antonio was transforming into an American, maybe not in fact, but in spirit. At forty-seven he’d given nearly his entire life to the service of the church, but now he would retire while he was still young enough to enjoy his freedom.

  Antonio weaved his way through the main lab and crossed to another door, again his card gained him access. He flipped on the lights and quickly crossed to a large bank of refrigeration units. He went immediately to the small unit on the far right and opened the door. Inside were six fabric samples recently retrieved from the Shroud; they were all intended for top genetic universities for study but only two were intended to end up in the United States. Ironically, Antonio selected the samples slated for the University of Wisconsin and the Washington University Genome Center in St. Louis. He would be both taking from, and giving to, the Americans. It was justice in a way.

  Antonio took the vials and packed them neatly into a foam carrier before stowing them in his briefcase. He could already feel the warmth of the sun on his face and see in his mind’s eye, the white sandy beaches of Tsillivi. It was where he was going to retire. He already had an apartment in place. He would relax and contemplate the many mysterious of the lord God. He could do that just as easily reclined on a lounge chair on the shore of the Greek island of Zakynthos, as he could in a dimly lit lab in northern Italy. After all God created both, and Antonio felt much closer to God surrounded by nature’s glory, rather than in a square manmade artificially lit room.

  Antonio left the lab, carefully turning off the lights and closing the doors behind him. He took the stairs three flights down; the elevator was old and slow and he was anxious to be away. There was no sign of Maurizio, but that was just as well. Antonio was afraid his nervousness might show, for this was the first time in his life he’d ever stolen anything. It was a heady feeling that made his heart pound heavily in his chest, but it was not unpleasant.

  The spring night was cool and utterly clear though there were few stars visible, the street lights of Turin saw to that. The stars were one of the things Antonio missed most about his brief stays in Tsillivi; there the lights of the small village did little to diminish the beauty of the night sky. On the island, the distant suns of the galaxy could be made out all the way to the horizon. It was truly God’s canvas.

  Antonio sighed with anticipation and got behind the wheel of his aging Fiat which was parked directly in front of the unmarked building. The car started on the second try. Normally he walked to the labs, but tonight was different. Tonight he would not be going home again. Tonight he was staying at the Holiday Inn near the airport and would be flying out early the following morning, leaving the Fiat and most of his personal belongings behind. Antonio did not care; with the money the American would give him, he could acquire new and better personal belongings.

  Antonio spun the wheel and turned onto Margherita. He forced himself to drive slowly, after all Carrara Park was only a few blocks to the west. The American would be waiting for him there.

  He reached the park quickly and circled his way back to the bridge that crossed the river. He spotted the car immediately, but that was to be expected; it was surely the only other vehicle in the park at this hour. It was a black BMW sitting all alone in the middle of the bridge, its lights off. Antonio pulled to a stop directly in front of the car and quickly got out leaving the samples on the front seat. He wanted to be sure before he committed himself. He could always return the samples if the American did not live up to his end of the deal.

  The night was still and utterly peaceful in the midst of the park, silent except for the tumble of water from the series of nearby falls. Antonio moved around the front of his car and over to the passenger side. At first no one got out of the BMW to join him, causing Antonio to feel a brief moment of disappointment, but then the driver’s door opened and the overhead light revealed the nearly bald American, who climbed easily from the seat.

  “You have the samples?” the man asked in the typical American fashion. No greeting, no pleasantries…only rude, straightforward business.

  Antonio repressed a smile. Tsillivi was waiting for him. “I have them,” he answered deciding to adopt the American’s attitude. “You have the money?” He asked rudely in return, though even in the relative darkness of the park he could see the briefcase the man was holding.

  “Yes,” the American answered and moved to the front of his car. He placed the case on top of the hood and flipped the twin latches. Antonio moved forward and gazed down at the money…American dollars…one million, enough to keep him happy and content for a very long time.

  Absently Antonio made a reach for the bills, but the American caught his wrist in a strong grip and held his hand back. Antonio looked up in surprise.

  “Not yet Father…the samples?”

  Antonio smiled. “Of course,” he answered and hurried back to his car. He quickly yanked open the passenger door and pulled the protected samples from the case. He returned quickly, his night vision momentarily ruined by the dome light of his car, but he could make out the outline of the American easily enough.

  “Here,” Antonio said holding out the samples. The American took the small metal box with his left hand then raised his right as if he was pointing a judging hand. Antonio could see nothing in the man’s hand and was only aware of the flash for the briefest of moments before the slug plowed into his skull, pushed through his brain and exited out the back of his head.

  “Thank you,” the American said as he watched the dead man fall to the pavement. For the American, killing a priest gave him no pause. He was also a man of great faith but he was on a higher mission…a mission that would rock the religious world. He knew now that he truly was the Left Hand of God and he would have a ringside seat for the grand events that were about to unfold.

  I

  “Life is a series of wants, unfulfilled.”

  Vio Valencia

  May 10th, 3217 Lato Island

  “Spar with me,” Arnot pleaded. “I’m tired of practicing forms.”

  Avigail did not answer. Arnot frowned. His sister was lying on her stomach in the grass, her nose in a book.

  “Avi!” He cried loudly and she glanced up, annoyed.

  “Spar with me,” Arnot repeated and sat down next to her.

  “I’m rea
ding,” she answered, ignoring the puppy dog eyes her twin was giving her.

  “Come on Avi. I want to be ready when Traveler Gaston comes for us,” he explained, trying his best to instill a sense of urgency in his sister. He failed.

  “Get one of them to practice with you,” Avi replied and motioned to the host of girls that lingered around the field, eyeing her brother hungrily. Avi sighed…at least they were polite enough to keep their distance.

  Arnot grimaced. “Avi be serious,” he answered looking about at all the female spectators. They were useless with katas, and he ignored their muffled giggles as his eyes moved around the forum.

  The day was absolutely beautiful, sunny and warm and the new grass felt very soft beneath his bare feet.

  “I’m reading,” Avi answered and Arnot could tell she would not be deterred so he flopped down on his belly next to her.

  “What are you reading?” He asked sadly, switching to old English and sounding thoroughly defeated. Avi looked up and smiled. She kissed him quickly on the cheek and then flipped the book closed so he could read the title. The girls huddled about the forum looked on jealously.

  “Insights,” by Galen Dawkins.

  Arnot let out a loud raspberry.

  Avigail frowned. “What?” She answered, also in old English. It was their secret tongue…very few in the Inland Sea could understand the language, so their conversations were very private. They learned to speak the language from Lynn Doyle, now Lynn Hothgaard, their nanny, the woman who’d been pulled through the gate from Old Earth when Tar Nev departed. She’d been in charge of their care for as long as either could remember. They both adored and loved Lynn just as they loved their mother and father. She was their special friend and confidant, someone who would always take their side…even if they were wrong. The twins were especially grateful to her when they wanted their conversations to be secret. Privacy was a gift beyond measure to any born of a royal family.