Gary Saves The Multiverse- The Complete Novel Read online




  Gary Saves The Multiverse

  The Complete Novel

  Previously released in three episodes

  C.F. Cooper

  Text copyright © 2019 C.F. Cooper

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover illustration by sicarius8.deviantart.com

  Please note, this story is written using British English spelling, punctuation, and grammar. If you are American and find errors, it's British English. If you are British and you find spelling, punctuation or grammar errors, that's me occasionally throwing in some US English. If you are familiar with US and British English, any errors you find are possibly lapses into Australian English.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Part One – Summervale

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Part Two – Springrise

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Part Three – Autumnfall

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Part Four – Winterhaven

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Prologue

  Gary woke with the sound of someone knocking on the door. As he emerged from the fog of sleep he remembered where he was. He was lying on a king size bed in the presidential suite of a top London hotel. Gazing across the room towards the floor to ceiling window, he looked out across the Thames river to the British Houses of Parliament.

  He ached all over. He was aware of every single muscle in his body. Each one was transmitting pain, some more than others. Gary had been through a lot in the last week, or was it a month? His body felt as if it was a diary of the journey he had made. Every bruise, every cut, every strained muscle told a different part of the story.

  He looked down. He had to admit that not all the aches and pains were as a result of something bad happening to him. Daisy Snowball lay across his chest, her long blonde hair cascading over his body. Snuggled into his side was Sasha Midnight with her shoulder length jet-black hair. Gary remembered the night they had all spent together and smiled. His body remembered the night too.

  The door knocked again. "Room service," a voice shouted.

  "Come in," Gary replied.

  The door opened, and a young wide-eyed porter pushed a trolley, laden with food, into the room.

  "Where do you..uh," he could hardly speak at the scene he was staring at. An ordinary looking guy in his early twenties was lying in bed with two stunning women. One blonde, one dark haired, each as beautiful as the next. The blonde opened her eyes and lifted her head, as she looked over. She was naked, and the side of her breast was visible, pressed against the guy’s chest.

  "Ooh, food. Thank you, good sir," she said.

  "Just put it at the side of the bed," said Gary.

  "Okay." The porter wheeled the trolley over to the bed, staring as he did so. He knew it was rude and that he could be sacked if he didn't show the professional discretion expected of him, but damn, they were hot. The girl with the black hair was milk white with the fullest, most ruby red lips he had ever seen. Working in a luxury hotel, the porter had seen his fair share of sights, but there was something about the girls that was almost animalistic. He couldn't quite figure out what it was, but they were different.

  "Help yourself to a tip," said Gary nodding to the table next to the bed. There was a pile of crumpled bank notes on it.

  "Uh..."

  "Yes?"

  "I don't mean to be rude, but who are you?"

  "Sorry?"

  "Well, it's usually pretty famous people that stay in this suite, and it's always famous people that have the kind of night you've had." The porter leaned down and picked up a few empty champagne bottles from the floor around the bed as he spoke. "The room, the expensive wine, the girls. No offence," he said looking at Daisy.

  Daisy yawned. "None taken." She sat up and pulled an empty bottle of champagne out from under her. "I wondered why I was so uncomfortable," she giggled, still slightly drunk from the night before.

  The porter's face turned bright red as he leaned over to take the bottle from her outstretched hand. He could now see her voluptuous breasts in all their glory, and he couldn't help staring. He gulped. "I mean are you famous or super rich?"

  "Neither," said Gary. "It's a special occasion. We are celebrating."

  "We got hitched," said Daisy. "That's worth celebrating isn't it?"

  "Uh..." the porter was still struggling with the scene. He stared at Daisy, then at Sasha who was still asleep and oblivious to the whole conversation. "I've...uh... never seen a 'plus one' on a wedding night," he said, shaking his head.

  "You still haven't," said Gary. "The three of us got hitched," he explained.

  "I want your life," he laughed out loud. "Holy shit. Sorry for swearing. Please don't complain to the manager, but holy shit. I want your life."

  "Be careful what you wish for," said Gary, as he pulled himself up in the bed and propped himself against the headboard.

  "I'm sorry, I've been very rude. I'm going now."

  "Don't forget your tip."

  "No tip required. This. Just this," he said, sweeping his hand round the room. "Seeing this, meeting you, it’s all the tip I need today. Whatever you're doing, keep doing it."

  Daisy laughed as the porter left the room. "He was funny. It was as if he has never seen anyone naked before?"

  "This world is very different to yours Daisy." Gary stroked Sasha's hair. "Sasha, wake up. We've got food."

  "Ooh, nice," said Sasha with a sleepy, husky voice.

  Gary stroked her hair again and then rubbed the top of her head. The whole of her body began to vibrate, and a low purring noise came from her throat. As he continued to move his fingers around in circles, feline ears emerged from her hair.

  "Ooh Gary, you know how to please a cat."

  Daisy ruffled her own hair with both hands and a pair of small erect rabbit ears popped up. "Will we make love then eat?"

  "Yes," purred Sasha, pulling herself up and planting her plump red lips on Gary's cheek. "Let's make love. The food can wait."

  The door to the room crashed open. This time it wasn't the porter. A tall middle-aged man stood in the doorway, wild eyed and angry. He had a shock of white hair which was long and ruffled and contrasted with his dark skin. Despite his advanced age he looked powerful and dangerous. He wore an orange boiler suit with a tweed jacket over the top of it, and he had what looked like fishing waders on his feet. The legs of the boiler suit were tucked into the waders.

  "Professor Wiseman," said Gary. "You heard we’d arrived?"

  The professor stared at Gary. "Yes, I heard." He looked at Daisy and Sasha and shook his head. "Gary, Gary, Gary...where did it all go wrong?"

  "Did it go wrong?"

  "I didn't send you through the portal to get a girlfriend."

  "Professor Wiseman," said Sasha. "I don't know you, but Gary has told us about you, and I think you should be proud of him."

  "Well, I don't know that this is how I measure success," said the professor shaking his head. "What have you been doing all this time?"

  "He rescued the rabbit woman," said Sasha.

  Daisy smiled and waved at the professor. "That's me. And he saved the cat woman."

  "That's me," purred Sasha. "And bat
tled the Ice King."

  "Yes, yes, all fine and good," said the professor, "But have you saved the Multiverse?"

  Part One – Summervale

  Chapter 1

  One Month Earlier

  Gary picked up the packet of six multi-coloured plastic bowls and put them in his oversized yellow and blue bag alongside the red cups, disposable cutlery and a five-piece cookware set. After a week-long standoff with his housemates, no-one would agree to wash the pile of dishes that had built up. They had finally decided that instead of washing them, they would have a reset by throwing them in the bin and buying the cheapest possible replacements from Ikea.

  Gary hated living in a house share, but it was the only affordable option while he was at university. The guys he shared with were good friends, but jeez they were lazy.

  Gary wondered if it would have been different if he'd gone to one of the top universities. Were housemates in Oxford and Cambridge a bunch of lazy stoners who spent most of their time playing role-playing games? Probably, but he would never find out.

  Gary had only just managed to scrape the grades he needed to get into the University of Chester-under-Lyme on the northwest coast of England. The town was small, historic and potentially pretty if the weather ever decided to clear and throw some sunlight onto the old cobbled streets that ran down to the harbour.

  If Gary had thought he would have an easy time because the entry requirements were lower than most other universities, he had quickly reached the conclusion that it was going to be as easy to fail here as he'd almost done at high school. He was close to crashing out of the second year of his course, and he desperately needed a good result in Physics to recover the situation.

  Having completed his shopping, Gary began to look around the store for the fabled shortcuts that led you straight to the exit without winding your way through every section of store. Gary had only been to Ikea twice, but both times it had taken him longer to find his way out that it had to drive the twenty-mile journey to the store in the first place. The only reason he agreed to do the trip was that he was short of money. Because he was the one doing the shopping, he didn't have to contribute to the cost of the new kitchenware. That was how much everyone hated, or probably more accurately feared going to Ikea.

  Gary couldn't see any shortcuts from where he was standing. He began to follow the weary retail pilgrims into the next section of the store. He was convinced the place had been designed by some evil Swedish genius of an RPG player who secretly wanted to design games. The trip through the shop was like a quest through many lands. Only those with knowledge of the secret passageways and keys could avoid a journey through every freakin' section of the store.

  As he turned the corner into the bedroom furniture zone, he spotted a familiar figure. A tall black middle-aged man with unruly white hair stood with his back to Gary. He was staring at a wardrobe and fishing around in the deep pockets of his jacket, searching for something.

  Shit, it was Professor Wiseman, his Physics tutor. The very person who held Gary's future in his hands. He looked, around desperate for a shortcut out of bedrooms. Suddenly he spotted someone walking between two pieces of furniture and disappearing. Eureka, the secret exit. He was safe. Gary walked past the professor, trying to appear casual, trying not to attract attention.

  "Ah, you there," the professor shouted.

  Gary kept walking. Surely, he wasn't talking to him.

  "You, Graham."

  Gary felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to face the wild-eyed professor. "Professor Wiseman," he said feebly.

  "It is Graham, isn't it?"

  "Gary."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Pretty sure," said Gary.

  "Well, whatever. Come with me. I need a hand."

  "I was heading home."

  "Won't take long," said the professor. "I need you to hold a tape measure for me."

  Gary nodded and reluctantly followed the professor back to the wardrobe he'd been looking at.

  "Dumb ass," Gary thought he heard the professor say.

  "What?"

  "Dombås," the professor repeated, pointing at the furniture label. "I think the Dombås model should do the trick, but I need to measure it." He pulled a cloth measuring tape out from his pocket. "You hold this end."

  Gary did as he was told. The professor opened the door to the wardrobe and stepped inside.

  "You do realise the dimensions are on this product card?" Gary pointed the information sheet at the side of the display.

  The professor peered out from the wardrobe. "Sorry?"

  "The dimensions are on this product card."

  "Right. Right. Never mind, better safe than sorry. I need to know the exact measurement from the back of the wardrobe to the outer edge of the doors when they are fully open." The professor leaned back and held the tape measure in place. "So, can you open the door as far as it can go, and take a note of the distance?"

  Gary sighed but did as he was asked. He pinched the tape between his thumb and forefinger and showed the professor.

  "Yes, this is it. At last. You don't know how long I've been looking for the right wardrobe."

  "Okaaay, well I better be going."

  "Hang on Gary. You seem to be familiar with Ikea."

  "Not really."

  "Have you ever assembled any of their furniture?"

  "It's pretty straight forward professor. You just need an Allen key and they give you one with every piece of furniture you buy."

  "A what?"

  "An Allen key. It's like a hexagonal screwdriver."

  "You need to help me. I'm no good at this kind of thing."

  "I'm sorry professor, but I need to get home."

  "I'll make it worth your while. What do you say I treat it as a practical component of your course? Factor that into your next mark?"

  Gary couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was being bribed with an enhanced grade to help build some Ikea furniture. He knew it was a pain to assemble, but it wasn't that bad. "I don't know."

  "An A plus," said the professor.

  "Seriously?"

  "Right, it's decided. Now how the hell do we get out of this place?"

  "Follow me," said Gary. "I know a shortcut."

  ***

  Gary stood back and looked at his work. The white MDF wardrobe looked incongruous standing the middle of the professor's study, surrounded as it was by book-laden shelves and furniture that had probably been there for decades.

  "And you did all that with an Allen key?" said the professor.

  Gary nodded his head. "Yep. Are you sure you don't want me to put the back on? And what about the internal railings?"

  "No, that is perfect as it is."

  "So, can I go now?"

  "Just give me a hand with the last few modifications."

  "And I'm going to get credits for this?"

  "Yes, yes." The professor handed Gary a length of what looked like copper wire. "I need you to attach this round the outer edge of the back. Here's some Blu Tack, that should do the trick."

  Gary took the coil and Blu Tack and got back to work. The professor was doing the same with the outer edges of the doors at the front of the furniture. When he had finished, Wiseman took two sets of electrical cable with bare wires and stuck them into the Blu Tack on each door. He then did the same at the back of the wardrobe. Gary's eyes followed the cables back to an electrical point on the wall.

  "A couple of old vacuum cleaners," the professor said. I cut the end of the cables off and hey presto, I have power to the wardrobe. Clever, don't you think?"

  Gary felt a chill sweep through him. "That wasn't Blu Tack, was it? It's not plastic explosive or something like that, is it?"

  The professor laughed. "It's not Blu Tack but it's not explosive either. It's much more powerful than that." The professor walked over to the wall and flicked on the power switches. The front and back of the wardrobe sparked and crackled.

  "Are you sure this is safe?" asked Gary nervo
usly.

  "Definitely not," said the professor. "But it's only me that is at risk." He walked to the front of the wardrobe and pulled the doors open with a flourish. A swirling vortex of green light appeared in the middle of the empty wardrobe and began to grow in size.

  "What the…" said Gary.

  "Portal to the homologous dimension. My calculations were correct. I expected it to work, but even so, I can hardly believe it." The professor was bouncing on his heels in excitement, a wide grin covering his face.

  "The what?"

  "The homologous dimension. A dimension that exists in the same space as our world. There beside us all the time but invisible, as our world is invisible to them. It's fairly straightforward."

  Gary shook his head. "And you built this portal with an Ikea wardrobe?"

  "Watch."

  The light began to grow until it reached the sides of the wardrobe.

  "The distance needs to be just right between the front and back of the loops we created, but it also needs something solid to contain the vortex."

  "That wardrobe is made of MDF. It will never hold it," said Gary, stepping back and raising his arms in front of his face for protection.

  "It doesn't have to be strong. Anything solid that's not a conductor will do. It's perfect." The professor was beaming with delight.

  The light grew until it covered the whole of the inside of the wardrobe and the centre began to clear like a passing fog. A hazy blurred alpine landscape became visible in the distance.

  Gary's mind was still reeling from the shock of it all. He stepped round to the back of the wardrobe to see what it looked like from there. There was now a solid wall of green light across the back. The portal only opened in one direction and that was through the front.

  "We are at the intersection of multiple lay lines," said the professor. "The fabric of time-space is stretched thin here, making it possible to pass through by temporarily stretching it thinner again."

  "You are going through, aren't you?

  "Of course I'm going through. I didn't move to this backwater of a university near the lay lines to teach second rate students, no offence, spend years perfecting my calculations and months searching for the right wardrobe, only to look at this other world from a distance."