The Quantum Harem (closed)

[DarkNFrilly]

Our story begins in a lawyer's office on the edge of a small Midwest US city.The office in question was located in one of those four stories office buildings that seem to congregate on the edge of medium-sized cities all across North America. The office in question had a door that led to a reception area, where the desk was currently unstaffed. The office was one of those nondescript rooms which could have housed the desk of an insurance agent, accountant or real estate lawyer.

The man at the desk did not look particularly remarkable. He was an older gentleman wearing a charcoal gray suit that was neither pricey nor cheap, but something worn by a professional who made a comfortable living serving the residents of suburbia. The only thing that might raise an eyebrow was the man's resemblance to Lionel Barrymore in the movie "It's a Wonderful Life."

But perhaps the resemblance wasn't that remarkable since it was the look he was going for.

Sitting on the opposite side of the Barrymore clone was a man in his early thirties, thinning red hair and and wearing a suit almost identical to that of the pseudo-charcoal.

"You sent him a telegraph?" the younger man asked the older. "I didn't know they even did that anymore. I thought that they were into money transfers, bill pays, and other similar service."

"They're still true to their roots," the Barrymore clone assured his associate. "Besides, the uniqueness of the method we used to contact him will get his attention."

The younger man nodded, then asked, "So when is he supposed to arrive?"

The Barrymore doppleganger pulled out a silver pocket watch and checked the time. "If he keeps his appointment, in about half an hour. We're a pair of probate lawyers. I'm George Bailey and you're my associate, Henry Potter. Our guest is coming to discuss a windfall he had no idea was forthcoming."

"So when will you tell him the truth?" the younger man asked.

"As soon as walks into the office. We don't have much time. Do you have the first file prepared?"

The younger man stood up. "It's all ready. I'll fetch it now."

The older man nodded and checked his watch again while the younger man left his office.

 

[Armphid]

This was ridiculous.

That was the one thought that kept occurring to him. When he received the unexpected message and the summons to the obscure legal office, he had thought how ridiculous this was. When he had looked up the address online to determine it was an appointment that he'd have to take work off for, he'd thought how ridiculous this was. When he'd submitted the time off request, he'd thought how ridiculous this was. Now as he pulled into the almost empty parking lot of the nondescript office building, he sighed, "This is ridiculous."

William "Will" Baker pulled into a parking spot far from the office doors; his silver sedan a few model years older than it maybe should have been, but it ran fine, damn it. It was ridiculous to come here for what was so obviously a gag. He was wasting his time.

But he just had to. It wasn't every day one got a telegram delivered by Western Union. Even now, it made him shake his head and smile a little. What was this? 1896? "A honest to God telegram," he murmured. Will pulled out the slip of paper from the lining pocket of his suit jacket and read it again. "....This is ridiculous."

He got out of the car, locking it as he turned to face the building. It was a perfectly ordinary structure; so much so that he could imagine it being all white with the words "OFFICE BUILDING" printed on the side in huge block letters. This was the address.

Will Baker was a tall man, if not overly so, standing at 6'2" tall. He had a solid build with broad shoulders and a similarly spaced hips, his limbs long and strong. He had managed to avoid putting on much weight in college or grad school; partly through student poverty and partly due to a passion for rhythm dance games that was one of his secret vices. His skin was a healthy peach and cream color; not quite as pale as his German-Russian-Irish-Pretty Much Anyone Who Lived In A Swamp Or On A Mountain European-American Mongrel heritage had made him naturally. He liked to camp and spend almost as much time out of doors as in it. His face was handsome with clean, sharp features and a small nose. His eyes seemed just a little large for his face and were deep set orbs of a pale green. His hair was a loosely combed mass of chestnut locks that fell to just past his ear, shorter on the sides and back than on top and front. He was dressed in a suit that clearly came from a rack but managed to look decent in it; a dark blue number. He wore a simple white dress shirt beneath and had bothered to put on a black tie. His shoes, however, were a pair of clean but wholly inappropriate hiking boots.

What? Dress shoes were uncomfortable. And what if he had to kick something?

"This is ridiculous," he said again. Then he walked towards the door. It was a joke; it had to be. An inheritance from a relative he'd never heard of, in the care of attorneys whose practice he could hardly find on the Internet, whose notice was delivered by a telegram. Who even knew they did that anymore? He had to see what it was about. He just couldn't stay away.

According to the telegram, he was early by about ten minutes. He liked to be early to appointments if he could be. Even totally fake ones like this. Will walked to the reception desk where...no one was sitting.

He paused and listened for a moment. It was quiet. Not too quiet or zombie quiet, but quiet. "Ah, hello? Excuse me, I'm Will Baker. I've got an appointment with Bailey & Potter? Anyone? Beuller?"

 

[DarkNFrilly]

"We actually did have an Matthew Bueller as a paralegal at one point, but we had to let him go," a voice answered. "Splendid chap, but the office intercom always seemed to short out around him."

The Barrymore doppleganger stepped into the main reception area, with a man who bore a striking resemblance to a young Todd Karns in tow. The older man extended his hand, introducing himself. "George Bailey, at your service. And you must be William Baker. And on time too. Splendid, splendid. This is my partner, Henry Potter," George Bailey said, gesturing at the other man, who extended his hand.

"Why don't we step into my office, Mr. Baker, and we'll get down to business," Bailey said, leading Will to a back office. "Can I get my partner to fetch you something? Coffee? Tea? Cigar?"

 

[Armphid]

Of course they had a Beuller who worked there. And Will was a Chinese jet pilot.

He still shook the offered hands, inclining his head slightly, "A pleasure, gentlemen." Why did these guys look so familiar? And those names...he knew those names. "Yes, let's discuss it, please. I'm very curious as to what this us all about."

He followed the older man into the office. At the question, he hesitated a moment, "You know, some tea would be great, thank you." He took a seat and then it clicked. George Bailey and Henry Potter! Right! "It's odd," he said, "I expected you to be Mister Potter." He sure looked the part. The other guy was no Jimmy Stewart though. "Sure the cue cards didn't get mixed up?"

The linguist looked around the office, "So is this a Candid Camera reboot? The long awaited return of Punk'd?"

 

[DarkNFrilly]

Bailey raised his eyebrow raised his eyebrow at Will's questions, but otherwise made no response to his questions. "Henry, if you would, wheel the tea service in, along with that folder I asked you to prepare, and then Mr. Baker and I will get straight to business."

Henry nodded, disappeared and then a few seconds later, reappeared, push a cart with teapot, cups and a small plate of cookies on it. He also had an overstuffed manila folder under one arm, which he put on Bailey's desk before leaving the office.

"I assure you, Mr. Baker, that I am not conducting any type of subterfuge for the purpose of having a guffaw at your expense," Bailey said as he poured Will a cup of tea. "Lemon or sugar, Mr. Baker?" Bailey asked as he set the cup of tea down in front of Will.

 

[Armphid]

That was fast. He fidgeted in his seat at the tea service. Tea or coffee was one thing but a full service set and tray? This just got weirder. If he had the sense God gave a bowling pin, he'd get out right now.

Instead, he just nodded, "Uh, sugar, please. Two spoons and thank you." He glanced at Henry. "And thank you, Mister Potter."

Hey, they were flim flamming him but there was no need to be rude.

Will took the tea and took a sip. "Very nice, thank you. So, Mister Bailey, let's talk business. Your telegram, how did you get them to do that, anyway? I didn't even know they could anymore. Anyway, it mentioned an inheritance but I don't have any idea who could be leaving me anything. My family and friends are faring fine. I came here out of curiosity and I think it's time for some answers. Or the kidnapping or whatever this is."

 

[DarkNFrilly]

"Not so much an inheritance as a bequest, Mr. Baker," Bailey replied. "A subtle but distinct difference. And the nature of this bequest will require a leap of faith on your part, though I suppose I could provide a stepping stone. Tell me, Mr. Baker, are the stories of Gawain and the Green Knight and the Legend of Sleepy Hollow still a required part of the curriculum in this country's secondary education programs?"

 

[Armphid]

His eyebrows rose. A bequest? And now literature? "They are. I actually like Gawain and the Green Knight quite a bit." He was beginning to feel a little nervous. Both if those involved people losing their heads. "You've been very civil, gentlemen, but I must warn you that should an axe wielding fellow make an appearance, I will throw hot tea in your faces," he said with a smile, meaning it mostly as a joke. Mostly.

 

[DarkNFrilly]

"Seems a perfectly good waste of tea," Bailey replied wryly. "But I assure that, at present, there are no axe wielding individuals on the staff of Bailey and Potter. However, I do need to demonstrate something which I hope you will not find too untoward. And, as a precautionary measure, my partner Mr. Potter has locked and barred the single door that serves as an ingress and egress to my office."

 

[Armphid]

"Oh," he said softly. Oh, shit was his mental reaction. Locked and barred the door? "Well." If he had hackles, they'd be raised now. This had gone from whimsically mad to sinisterly mad. How sturdy were the windows?

At the same time though, he had to wonder, what did Bailey think merited such a precaution? He licked his lips and took another drink of tea. "I am a captive audience then. Please, proceed."

Curiosity and cats, as the saying went.

 

[DarkNFrilly]

"Be patient," Bailey asked, as the older man put his own hands on either side of his own head. "This takes a little maneuvering."

Bailey rocked his head back and forth and then suddenly, with an audible "Pop!" Bailey's head came off. Except there was no visible blood or gore that one would associate with the act of beheading someone, even if that someone was one's self. In fact, the whole act had the look and "feel" of removing the head from a doll.

"So," Bailey continued, setting his own head on his desk so that it face Will. "Let's discuss the nature of your bequest."

 

[Armphid]

Will had discovered the secret to teleportation.

As soon as Bailey's head popped off, the young man's mind went blank and he suddenly found himself across the room with his back pressed up against the door. He had no memory of the journey, still had the teacup held in a slightly trembling hand, and none of the objects in the office had been disturbed.

A feeling of foolishness then swept him along with a macabre fascination. How had he done that? Especially still speaking?

"Ah, I beg your pardon. I was, am? Yes, I'm a bit startled by this." He approached carefully and looked at both head and body. No blood. No organs. No sign of any discomfort whatsoever. "Remarkable! How are you able to do that? Robot body? Holographic projection?"

He was a bit surprised and pleased with himself. He should be trying to flee but after the initial shock was over, he was awed rather than aghast. Will drained the rest of his tea as he sat back down. "And what does this have to do with the bequest?"

 

[DarkNFrilly]

"Excuse me a moment, Mr. Baker," Bailey said, as he placed his head back on his neck and, with a couple of twists, reattached his head back to his body with an audible "Pop!!"

"Always a devil of a time getting that on right," Bailey said, twisting his neck around a couple of times. "Now, before I explain what this has to do with the bequest, consider this. You shook my hand, so you know I'm solid, and not a laser hologram. Unless you think that I'm like one of those holograms you see on Star Trek. And have you ever heard of anyone actually possessing that technology in real life? And your robot theory falls in the same category. Have you ever heard of anyone possessing technology that sophisticated?"

 

[Armphid]

That 'pop' sound sure made it seem like a mechanical process. Of course, a lot of what a body did was. How was he this calm again? He really should be freaking out. He wasn't complaining but it was weird. Maybe he was just weird.

The rest of this situation sure as hell was.

He tilted his head, leaning in to try and take a closer look without being too obvious, "Of course, I've never heard of that technology. But I've never heard of anyone actually pulling their head off in anything but stories. Forgive me for trying to figure it out but I feel that's a pretty reasonable response."

 

[DarkNFrilly]

"Understandable, understandable,' Bailey responded. "But the important thing is that you see that there are certain things beyond your ken. Which brings us to the subject of your bequest, that being the multiverse. Also, Mr. Baker, how would you describe your chest hair? Most women fall in the bell curve of a spattering of hair on the male chest, but there are advocates for either end of the spectrum."

 

[Armphid]

Will did know there were things beyond his ken. He didn't like it but he knew it. "I am aware that, wait, what?" He blinked. Had he just asked about his...chest hair? "I don't really understand what that has to do with this. I guess I have a little; kind of a light dusting across my...you know, let's back up to the multiverse."

 

[DarkNFrilly]

"Good, good, always a useful bit of data," Bailey said, writing something indiscernible on a post-me note, then quickly placing said note in the overstuffed vote. "Now, to the multiverse. You are aware of the theory that when certain decisions are made, that there comes into existence two realities. For example, theoretically there might be a universe where you did not come to see us today at Bailey and Potter."

 

[Armphid]

Will nodded. He was a big enough geek to have watched and read plenty of sci fi and some genuine science regarding things like this. "I've usually heard it more associated with time and timelines than whole universes, but I suppose it's really just terminology at that point."

"And there could be other universes; maybe I set out to come here but was late due to traffic or my car got hit so I missed the appointment." Will enjoyed ideas like this, actually, though they could make the head hurt. "Or if I had coffee instead of tea or just had water. I know some people think that not every instance causes deviation though. That the universe has an...elasticity, for lack of a better word, and that trivial or minor things like that wouldn't change anything on a big enough scale for a separate universe/timeline to be created. Then there's the idea that there are infinite universes because any and every option could happen."

He looked at Bailey carefully, "Sorry, I know you know all that. I just wanted to establish my own understanding of it. Something tells me you know which of those ideas is right, though. Do you, Mister Bailey?"

 

[DarkNFrilly]

"That is a yes and a no," Bailey responded, trying to smile ingratiatingly. "In theory, the number of universes that exist can be expressed as approaching infinite. In reality, most choices don't result in universes splitting off and going their own way. To the best of my knowledge, there doesn't exist a universe that came about because, for one reason or another, you didn't make it to our law firm this morning. But there does exist a universe where, when you were in the third grade, your best friend's mother decided to bake snicker doodles rather than chocolate chip cookies for your class bake sale. The biggest difference in that universe is that the Cubs didn't win it all in 2016. Apparently chocolate does solve a great deal of problems."

Bailey paused before asking, "Mr. Baker, would you describe your penis as being a Goldilocks penis? That is, not too large, not too small, but just right? Returning to the bell curve again, it appears the preferred size is six inches, which is the average lenght of a male from your ethnic background."

 

[Armphid]

Interesting. Fascinating even. "So a trivial event can create a divergence but it doesn't unless the circumstances are right to do it. Kind of a "right person, right time, right place" kind if thing?" He tipped his head back, "So there is some degree of elasticity to...what? History? The fabric of the universe? And what does that imply about the concept of destiny?"

The questions were more to himself than the other man and he was so caught up in them that he did really listen to the question asked but just started to reply automatically, "Well, I haven't had complaints. I've measured myself at seven and a half inches hard, though since it curves up slightly I'd be a little longer if straightened out. I'm thicker than many though I haven't measured that, that's just from casual observation and oh, my God, why are you asking about my dick and why am I answering?"

 

[DarkNFrilly]

"Possibly because it could have an impact on your future endeavors," Bailey answered. "Particularly with your first encounter. Not in this reality, of course. In this reality she was a model for a gentleman's magazine. Playboy I believe. Petite thing. Barely seven stones. Sorry, pounds here, I remember. The young lady in question is barely a hundred pounds. But where you're going, she is a librarian. Probably destined to be a spinster. All because Wesley Snipes was born Native American and his catchphrase was 'Always Bet on Red.'"

Mr. Bailey reached into the drawer and pulled out a glossy picture cut out from a magazine and placed it down between himself and Will.

http://y2.pichunter.com/3126151_3_o.jpg

While Will was temporarily preoccupied by the picture in front of him, Bailey pulled out a device that looked like a garage door opener and, upon standing up, aimed it at Will's crotch. Bailey pushed a button on the remote, causing a blue ray to shoot out ad strike Will's crotch.

"There, average size, average length, average width. Mustn't scare the virgin librarians, you know. They'll be timid enough as it is. Not to worry, I did program for a bit of recompense. Endurance and recovery, you know. You'll need it. Twenty-six virgins to service, you know. Often all together, though I only know this from second and third hand tellings. Oh, and you'll need to keep up with your electrolyte intake. Lots of fluids, you know."

Bailey sat down, a look of consternation on his face. "I've forgotten to tell you the importance of all this multiverse business, haven't I?"

 

[Armphid]

Will's brow furrowed. Wesley Snipes a Native American? How did that even happen? What could change his lineage like that? And would he really be Wesley Snipes at that point?

Then Bailey slid the picture over to him. His eyes widened and he pursed his lips. Wow, he could see how she ended up in Playboy? In what reality did any woman who looked like this end up a spinster? Hell, she could be a metermaid and guys would be lining up. She was familiar...or was he imagining that? Or was he imagining all of this?

He didn't notice the item in Bailey's hand until he was zapped in the crotch. His eyes bulged and he shot to his feet, "Hey! What's-ohhh, that's a new sensation." His penis had gotten warm, hot even, and felt like it was being molded by invisible hands, then got oddly cool. There was a faint sweet, sharp scent and he blinked. Was his dick spearmint flavored now? Or did the beam smell like that?

"No, you haven't told me about the importance of any of this! What are you talking about with a Native American Wesley Snipes, this smoking hot librarian, or any if this? 26 virgins to...s-service? You're starting to sound like I'm going to have an explosive vest strapped to me, which I am not okay with, if you wondered."

 

[DarkNFrilly]

"It might be 23," Bailey allowed. "Possibly 24. I believe in the past the correction algorithm used the Greek and Latin alphabets. I'm fairly certain that the correction algorithm is now using the English alphabet, but you'll have to determine that for yourself."

"And no, I'm not asking you to do anything so idiotic as strapping explosives on yourself. I'm talking derring do, man, flags unfurled, saving the damsel in distress, that sort of thing. And, oh, the puzzles. I do envy you that, my boy," Bailey added, clasping his hands together.

"But I'll start at the beginning. There are other universes, different ones, spun off because of something major or minor. For example, just a change of conditions at the universe's beginning allowed for magic in some universes. And quite a few came about because of the American Revolution. Such as the early successes of the Americans in one universe because the Continental Congress gave Benedict Arnold the credit he deserved. Oh, that one is an eye opener. Perhaps you'll get to visit it and find out."

"But to the present. In our universe," Bailey said, tapping the picture between him and Will, "This young lady is Maria Checa, a Playmate of the Month from the year 1994. If I remember correctly, she was involved in an insider trading scandal a few years back. But in the reality I hope to get you to visit, she wasn't a model in 1994, she was born in 1994. At present, she is a twenty-three year old mild mannered librarian in a small town in a rather unique reality."

"By the by, that spearmint smell will disappear all together the first time you enter the castle door. Which leads to the question on why I need you to visit another universe."

 

[Armphid]

Will didn't interrupt, determined to listen and get as clear an answer as he could. It still wasn't that clear but while part of him was annoyed, part was also amazed at what he was hearing. Rescuing damsels? Derring-do and puzzles?

After he brought up the castle, the young man nodded slowly. "Okay, so let me see if I'm on the right page. You want me to go to another reality and rescue Maria Checa the librarian? And a castle's involved."

He was glad the smell would go away, that was good. But the thought of what was being proposed was...fantastic. "I've dreamed of visiting other worlds my whole life. And getting to play hero and save a gorgeous girl? I'm on board for that. But...I get the feeling there's more to it than that and you haven't told me everything."

"So, please continue, Mister Bailey. I will say that at this point, I am seriously interested in this bequest.". Or he'd gone completely insane. It could be both.

 

[DarkNFrilly]

"As I said," Bailey continued, "Sometimes an event will occur that will cause another universe to form. Sometimes the change will be a minor one and only a few people would notice, if they could. Other times the changes may be minor, but have disproportional impacts. Best example: Cleopatra's nose."

"Now sometimes a universe splits off, and there shouldn't be any more split offs. Because it was one where it was a pretty mundane split off. But then sometimes it does threaten to split off, and that's not good for the multiverse," Bailey said decisively, shaking his head. "Not good at all."

"Which is where our universe comes in. We're not one of the carbon copies," Bailey explained. "So if something happens that needs to be fixed, the multiverse looks for someone in our universe to fix it. Unfortunately, the multiverse doesn't give us a manual on how to fix things. It usually just points the bequested...that's you...in the right direction and expects you to fix the first problem, and the twenty-five that follow. Or twenty-three. Or twenty-two."