From the article archive
World A Week: Stress
I sat across from a collection of men who had kidnapped me at gunpoint, and for a long moment succumbed to self-pity. Expecting, congratulations and smiles at my heroism, I walked into a trap set by men who thought me a villain. I'd been in worse states, but like Elijah, I was tired, and so laying my head down, I began to dream.
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I woke in the world standing on my feet which I'd heard happened to experienced versers. So, I'd travelled something like fifty worlds, and I guess you could call me a veteran of this universe-hopping.
In my last world, I'd helped some intelligent dinosaurs fight off an invasion of Earth by aliens. What wonders awaited me here?
I gathered my stuff, and hiked toward the glinting lights which soon revealed themselves as towers in the light of the twin suns.
Walking in, I saw people much like humans except cuter, and shorter by about half a foot. They looked a bit childlike, but a sureness of manner betrayed maturity, I thought.
A universal translator functioned, thankfully, and it soon gathered enough data to make a chip that I inserted in the back of my skull.
Presto, I could speak Tynkilear.
(My current awareness wondered where I had lost the chip insert, and the universal translator, but then the dream took charge again.)
Listening, I found we were in a festival time. Games, food, drink were offered for free to passerbys.
I took advantage of this to nibble and try a variety of things. It all tasted quite fine, and then I hit on some hot chocolate, and I forced myself not to dance in the street. It'd been at least ten worlds since I'd had some.
The cause of the celebration surprised me. The Tyn had joined Galactic Civilization, or the first rung of it. Over a year had passed since any act of violence had occurred on their planet.
I began to get worried. Non-violent is not a word commonly used around me. What if I messed up things for these hospitable people?
"Don't worry." I heard from behind me in English. I spun around and saw four aliens, each of a different type. But more, I saw myself standing there with a smile on his face.
"Brother!" He cried, and hugged me heartily. "The precogs calculated a high probability of this, but I just could not believe it possible."
"Doppleganger?" I asked weakly.
"Yes, but I prefer 'brother'." He said looking down on me from a good four inches. I also could not help but notice his ease of manner, and his physical good looks that surpassed mine.
"You're..." I waved at him, and the whole package while the aliens patiently looked about, evidently sight-seeing.
"Genetically engineered to remove most problems. This is what you would look like without any major genetic flaws (you'd probably call them minor) Plus, I'm over a hundred-fifty years old even if I look your age."
We chatted and for the first time that I can remember, a dop totally controlled the situation in nearly every way. Usually, I'm the more experienced and wiser and tougher one, but not here.
It turned out that Earth was two rungs up the ladder, and he led the Tylinklear delegation. The other aliens were a step below him, and the Tyn were one further.
So, he took me to a speech, and told very funny jokes in Tyn language, and even punned in it.
Afterward, when the party was done, I met him again.
"I'd feel jealous, but..."
"Of whom much is given, much is required."
He continued.
"I have a problem. Tnere are several places I need to be, and this is one of them, but lower priortiy. We've broken the cycle of violence by getting everyone to accept conditioning except those who refuse it, and they are exiled behind a forcewall, or recruited for the Expeditionary Force. We don't see violence as inherently wrong, but stopping it is the quickest way to make a world safe for entry. Later, their culture can be re-normalized once they have developed a clearer understanding of the downside of certain courses of action like destabilizing wormholes.
But they need someone who can be violent to be here as security, and yet is not of them. You'd be perfect."
I still don't know if he was playing a game partially with me to help me calm down, but no doubt it was true.
So, I became a Planetary Guardian. The job was a sinecure. No threat got within five lightyears of the system before Deep Space Fleet #42 intercepted it. What I really was was a trustee. I did nothing except when it all fell apart, and then I was supposed to protect my people.
So I came up with battle strategies, and got the Fleet to implement certain boobytraps in outer space. And I did not tell my plans to anyone on the planet because such talk would only distress them.
And in my spare time, I read, road bycylcle on the steep hills and flat paths, played role-plauying games which were very big (the violence in them was considered cathartic).
Just sitting by the Bay, in one of my favorite chairs while cute Tyn brought me food and drinks, and reading either Tyn literature, or the 21st centuries contributions to print which had been donated by my "brother" felt swell.
Years past, and I learned little things hear and there. I learned to speak Tynliklear without a chip, and took classes in telepathy, and telekinesis. I once messed up so bad that I had "acquired" a pet rock, so to speak. It floated around behind me, and I thought I could hear it talking to me in my head. I messed up my tk and my telepathy, big time, and paid for over a week.
Finally, everyone on the planet was working, and at a job they enjoyed. Their jobs were vocations, and not the work of employees. So they ascended to the next rung of Galactic Civilzation.
So I had no job.
I found one as a test subject for a dimensional gateway program they were starting. Working with it, I learned how to close gateways with the power of my mind; unfortunately, the effort created kilotonne level explosions. But I survived the explosion, and so I continued on in the program.
After a while, I jumped through the gate to another world. No big deal, I thought, and then found out it was a one-way gate. They'd made a mistake in the fourth decimal I decided after studying it.
Oh, well, another world to explore. At least, I'fd gotten a nice long vacation in the last one.
Tadeusz
-------------------------------------------------
I woke in the world standing on my feet which I'd heard happened to experienced versers. So, I'd travelled something like fifty worlds, and I guess you could call me a veteran of this universe-hopping.
In my last world, I'd helped some intelligent dinosaurs fight off an invasion of Earth by aliens. What wonders awaited me here?
I gathered my stuff, and hiked toward the glinting lights which soon revealed themselves as towers in the light of the twin suns.
Walking in, I saw people much like humans except cuter, and shorter by about half a foot. They looked a bit childlike, but a sureness of manner betrayed maturity, I thought.
A universal translator functioned, thankfully, and it soon gathered enough data to make a chip that I inserted in the back of my skull.
Presto, I could speak Tynkilear.
(My current awareness wondered where I had lost the chip insert, and the universal translator, but then the dream took charge again.)
Listening, I found we were in a festival time. Games, food, drink were offered for free to passerbys.
I took advantage of this to nibble and try a variety of things. It all tasted quite fine, and then I hit on some hot chocolate, and I forced myself not to dance in the street. It'd been at least ten worlds since I'd had some.
The cause of the celebration surprised me. The Tyn had joined Galactic Civilization, or the first rung of it. Over a year had passed since any act of violence had occurred on their planet.
I began to get worried. Non-violent is not a word commonly used around me. What if I messed up things for these hospitable people?
"Don't worry." I heard from behind me in English. I spun around and saw four aliens, each of a different type. But more, I saw myself standing there with a smile on his face.
"Brother!" He cried, and hugged me heartily. "The precogs calculated a high probability of this, but I just could not believe it possible."
"Doppleganger?" I asked weakly.
"Yes, but I prefer 'brother'." He said looking down on me from a good four inches. I also could not help but notice his ease of manner, and his physical good looks that surpassed mine.
"You're..." I waved at him, and the whole package while the aliens patiently looked about, evidently sight-seeing.
"Genetically engineered to remove most problems. This is what you would look like without any major genetic flaws (you'd probably call them minor) Plus, I'm over a hundred-fifty years old even if I look your age."
We chatted and for the first time that I can remember, a dop totally controlled the situation in nearly every way. Usually, I'm the more experienced and wiser and tougher one, but not here.
It turned out that Earth was two rungs up the ladder, and he led the Tylinklear delegation. The other aliens were a step below him, and the Tyn were one further.
So, he took me to a speech, and told very funny jokes in Tyn language, and even punned in it.
Afterward, when the party was done, I met him again.
"I'd feel jealous, but..."
"Of whom much is given, much is required."
He continued.
"I have a problem. Tnere are several places I need to be, and this is one of them, but lower priortiy. We've broken the cycle of violence by getting everyone to accept conditioning except those who refuse it, and they are exiled behind a forcewall, or recruited for the Expeditionary Force. We don't see violence as inherently wrong, but stopping it is the quickest way to make a world safe for entry. Later, their culture can be re-normalized once they have developed a clearer understanding of the downside of certain courses of action like destabilizing wormholes.
But they need someone who can be violent to be here as security, and yet is not of them. You'd be perfect."
I still don't know if he was playing a game partially with me to help me calm down, but no doubt it was true.
So, I became a Planetary Guardian. The job was a sinecure. No threat got within five lightyears of the system before Deep Space Fleet #42 intercepted it. What I really was was a trustee. I did nothing except when it all fell apart, and then I was supposed to protect my people.
So I came up with battle strategies, and got the Fleet to implement certain boobytraps in outer space. And I did not tell my plans to anyone on the planet because such talk would only distress them.
And in my spare time, I read, road bycylcle on the steep hills and flat paths, played role-plauying games which were very big (the violence in them was considered cathartic).
Just sitting by the Bay, in one of my favorite chairs while cute Tyn brought me food and drinks, and reading either Tyn literature, or the 21st centuries contributions to print which had been donated by my "brother" felt swell.
Years past, and I learned little things hear and there. I learned to speak Tynliklear without a chip, and took classes in telepathy, and telekinesis. I once messed up so bad that I had "acquired" a pet rock, so to speak. It floated around behind me, and I thought I could hear it talking to me in my head. I messed up my tk and my telepathy, big time, and paid for over a week.
Finally, everyone on the planet was working, and at a job they enjoyed. Their jobs were vocations, and not the work of employees. So they ascended to the next rung of Galactic Civilzation.
So I had no job.
I found one as a test subject for a dimensional gateway program they were starting. Working with it, I learned how to close gateways with the power of my mind; unfortunately, the effort created kilotonne level explosions. But I survived the explosion, and so I continued on in the program.
After a while, I jumped through the gate to another world. No big deal, I thought, and then found out it was a one-way gate. They'd made a mistake in the fourth decimal I decided after studying it.
Oh, well, another world to explore. At least, I'fd gotten a nice long vacation in the last one.
Tadeusz
Recovered from the Gaming Outpost database backup. Original wording is preserved; damaged punctuation and presentation markup have been repaired. Historical links without a local match point to the Internet Archive.