When Good Plans Go Bad Read online

  The DimWorld Series

  Book 2

  When Good Plans Go Bad

  A Novel by

  J. Boyd Long

  Books by J. Boyd Long

  Genesis Dimension, Book 1 of the DimWorld Series

  When Good Plans Go Bad, Book 2 of the DimWorld Series

  When Good Plans Go Bad, Book 2 of the DimWorld Series

  When Good Plans Go Bad is a work of fiction. All characters in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Copyright © 2019 Justin Boyd Long

  Written by J. Boyd Long

  www.JBoydLong.com

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by reviewers, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  Published in the United States by Mad Goat Press

  Gainesville, Florida, USA

  www.madgoatpress.com [email protected]

  Cover Design by: My Custom Book Cover

  Limits of Liability and Disclaimer Warranty:

  The author shall not be liable for your misuse of this material. This book is strictly for entertainment purposes.

  First edition printing May 2019

  ISBN 978-1-948169-09-7 (Ebook Edition)

  ISBN 978-1-948169-10-3 (Paperback Edition)

  ISBN 978-1-948169-11-0 (Hardcover Edition)

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2019902396

  Printed in the United States of America

  For Erica, who is also not from this planet. Or, at least, not from this dimension.

  Prologue

  5 years earlier

  Piercing screams filled the air, adding to the mounting panic that churned in Mazik’s stomach. Smoke from the burning warehouse billowed into the courtyard, burning his eyes and throat as he ran. People scattered in every direction, creating chaos in the work camp. He tripped over a body and crashed into the packed dirt. Bits of gravel gouged his skin, but he ignored the pain that flared up his arm and sprang back to his feet. The body he had fallen over wore a DimCorp guard’s uniform, so he dismissed it and ran on, desperately searching for his father.

  The slave rebellion was in full motion now. Bribri slaves fought with the DimCorp guards, trying to overwhelm them with numbers to make up for the lack of proper weapons. Mazik clapped his hands to his ears as a sudden barrage of gunfire erupted in front of him. The sound was deafening, much louder than anything he had ever heard. His knees buckled as terror consumed him.

  “Mazik!”

  He heard his mother’s scream over the ringing in his ears and twisted his head around. The women were herding the children down an alley towards the front gate. He knew he was supposed to be with them, but he was determined to find his father and help him fight to free their people from the DimCorp plantation. He was nearly 13, after all, old enough to make a difference. He ignored her and said a quick prayer for courage.

  The guard who was shooting must have heard her shout. Mazik watched, helpless, as the guard swung his rifle around towards the fleeing women and children. Sound became muffled, as if everything were suddenly far away, as the barrel spit fire once, twice, three times.

  A moment later, Mazik’s father appeared. He sprang on the guard from behind, driving him to the ground. Mazik lay frozen in place, his heart pounding so hard he thought his chest might burst. The men rolled on the ground, punching and clawing at each other. Mazik felt a ray of hope as his father managed to get the guard in a choke hold, and his paralysis broke. He jumped to his feet to help his father, but before he could take a step, the guard pulled a knife from his boot and began stabbing his father repeatedly, slashing his arms and legs.

  Mazik charged as his father fell back, blood pouring to the dusty ground beneath him. The guard knelt and plunged the knife into his father’s chest just as Mazik sprang onto his back, trying to replicate the chokehold his father had used. The guard pulled the knife out of his father’s chest with one hand, grasping Mazik’s arm with the other. With a lightning-quick move, he rolled to one side, pulling Mazik over his shoulder at the same time. Mazik crashed to the ground beside his father as the knife came rushing towards his face. He whipped his head to the side. Searing pain burned his face as the knife sliced through his cheek. The coppery taste of blood flooded his mouth, threatening to choke him.

  “Bader!”

  The voice of Vincent Macalister roaring across the courtyard stopped Mazik’s heart in his chest. The guard hesitated, wiped the knife on Mazik’s shirt, and climbed to his feet.

  “Right here, boss,” he shouted.

  “Get over here and guard the warehouse. Don’t let anybody get to the Gate, you hear me?”

  “Yes, boss.”

  Bader gave Mazik a savage kick in the ribs and jogged across the courtyard. Mazik gagged, spitting blood out as he gasped for air.

  “Where the hell is my fire team?”

  Macalister’s shouting echoed in Mazik’s ears as the world turned gray around him. Soon, the only things he was aware of were agonizing pain in his side, his burning cheek, and his father’s body beside him, and he realized he was about to pass out. If that happened, he would be dead. He forced himself to his feet, holding a hand to his slashed cheek, and limped towards the alley after his mother and the others.

  Chapter 1

  Quentin sprinted across the dooryard in front of the cabin, trying to look everywhere at once as he fled into the jungle. It was impossible to be cautious once he was in the trees. There were just too many places that someone could be hiding. The palm fronds created a natural wall around him, hiding any unknown danger behind a dark green screen. When he got to the pre-arranged meeting place, it was empty. Where the hell is Eissa?

  There was no time to wait. If she wasn’t there, he had no choice but to go on. Tree limbs grabbed at him as he bolted down the trail. He burst into the clearing in front of the DimGate and attempted to do a somersault as he dove around the left side of the door. It was an awkward, graceless roll, but he somehow managed to wind up on his feet.

  There was no one hiding behind the door as he had expected there to be, and it took him a moment to shift mental gears. He’d been ready to fight, coaching himself through his first three moves as he ran, but now he had to skip all that and advance to the next goal: escape from this dimension. Adapt and overcome, Q. You can do this.

  He opened the control panel for the DimGate and powered it up, cursing the slow nature of the computer. Come on, come on. There was still no sign of Eissa. He dreaded the thought of leaving her behind, but he had no idea where she was, and no time to look for her. He filled in the destination dimension fields on the touchscreen and activated the door. A quick glance back up the trail confirmed that Eissa wasn’t in sight, and his heart sank.

  He opened the DimGate a few inches and peered through the crack. There weren’t any buses or trains about to smash through the door, so he pushed it open, crossed into Dimension 443, and slammed it shut. On this side of the DimGate, the wind was whipping on the roof of the Diablo Tower, and he barely heard Eissa’s taunting voice as he opened the control panel to disable the door.

  “What took you so long? I’ve been here for ten minutes.”

  He spun around, unsure if he had imagined it or not, but there she was, standing with Bob and Tocho on the other side of the roof. He stared in disbelief.

  “What the hell are you doing on this side of the Gate? We were supposed to meet in the jungle. And how could you have gotten here faster than me? That’s not even possible.” He went back over hi
s steps, trying to figure out where he might have lost some time. He had gotten his hands untied quickly, and while it took him a minute to get the first floorboard up, the rest came up easy, and he had crawled out from under the cabin within five minutes of the starting whistle.

  The smirk on Eissa’s face told him she was feeling smug about beating him in yet another training exercise. She sauntered over as he disabled the DimGate, Bob and Tocho trailing behind her with sheepish grins of their own.

  “Not only is it possible, my dear Quentin, it’s also five wins in a row for yours truly. Count them, five big ones.” She held up a hand, her fingers spread wide. “I believe that means you’ll be doing my chores for the next three days, minion.”

  The wall of flying cars on either side of the building made it difficult to focus on his humiliating loss, even though he’d seen the spectacle repeatedly over the last week. Las Vegas wasn’t the kind of place you could tune out, especially in this dimension. Massive video screens covered the skyscrapers around them, advertising the treasures and adventures to be had in the casinos below, and displaying giant naked women with impossibly long legs dancing in shows every hour of the day and night. He shook his head with a grin, looking back at her.

  “Well, I don’t know how you did it, but you got me.” He leaned in as they gathered in a circle beside the DimGate. They had the roof of the Diablo Tower to themselves, as usual. It wasn’t a great place to hang out, as the noise from the wind and the traffic made conversation difficult. “Why don’t we go down to the Cosmos Kitchen and try out this amazing food we’ve heard so much about, and you can tell me how you’re cheating.”

  They made their way over to the airlift at the edge of the roof. Quentin brushed the dirt off his shoulder from his attempted combat roll and ran his hands over his hair. His normally-short buzzcut was beginning to grow out, and he was going to have to find a place to get a haircut soon. Now that the DimGate was working reliably, that would be much easier to accomplish.

  The doors hissed open, and they stepped onto the airlift. They had been crossing into this dimension all week in their training missions, but this was the first time they had left the roof of the Diablo Tower. The lift climbed the side of the tower from ground level to roof, and its walls were clear, allowing them a spectacular view of the city. The doors closed behind them, sealing off the turbulence of the roof.

  “You’ll want to hold on to the rail,” Tocho said, pushing the button for the ground level. “It goes down pretty fast.”

  Quentin grinned as Eissa grabbed the rail with both hands. His own hands were in his pockets, and his thoughts were still on her dislike for amusement park rides when the floor fell out from beneath him. His stomach shot into his throat as his feet left the floor, and he floated, not quite hitting the ceiling, but not touching the floor. There was an initial moment of panic, but it quickly became fun. The city beyond was a blur of color and shapes, and the only thing he could really see was the backs of the other three as they grasped the handrail and looked out over Vegas. He started to get Eissa’s attention, but then decided to see if he could get into a funny pose first.

  Just as he got his hands out of his pockets, the airlift began to slow, and his feet gently came back down to the floor. He grabbed the rail to steady himself, relieved that he hadn’t had time to turn upside down, or something equally ridiculous. He would have come crashing down as the lift slowed, and probably hurt himself. Don’t let your inner child come out to play on the airlift, Q. He laughed at himself as the doors opened.

  Eissa pried her hands off the rail and turned around. Her face was pale, and she clearly hadn’t enjoyed the airlift ride. Quentin put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

  “Come on, champ. A five-time winner like you can’t puke on the way to dinner, it’s unbecoming of your station. Think about all the kids out there looking up to you.”

  Eissa elbowed him lightly in the ribs. “Yeah, yeah, kiss my ass.” She followed Bob and Tocho out onto the street.

  Las Vegas was even more overwhelming on the ground level. The street was wide, much wider than any city street in Quentin’s dimension. Lines of automated cars maneuvered around one another and the thousands of pedestrians. On the other side of the street was a station for the train that he had seen from the roof. It ran in a clear tube above the street level. Quentin stared in amazement as a train left the station and shot out of sight within seconds.

  “That’s the Mag-Vac,” Bob said. “Pretty impressive, huh?”

  Quentin nodded mutely. It put the mono-rails from his dimension to shame.

  “It’s a vacuum tube,” Bob explained. “Almost no air in it, so no wind resistance. The cross-country Mag-Vacs run something like 1,800 miles an hour. You can go from here to New York in about two hours, London in three, and Beijing is about four hours.”

  “Holy shit.” Quentin tried to imagine what he would do with that kind of technology available. In theory, you could get off work on Friday, spend the weekend anywhere in the world, and be back to work on Monday morning. How cool would that be? “That’s almost as good as having a teleporter.”

  “Oh no,” Eissa said. “You can’t beat a teleporter. Instant transportation.”

  “I’m not saying it’s equal, but it’s still pretty damn good.”

  Eissa winked at him. “I’ll give you that. It’s still pretty good.”

  Tocho steered them to a door at the base of the tower. A doorman in a dark green tuxedo and a top hat greeted them and ushered them into a foyer. There were massive chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and deep carpeting absorbed the sound of muted conversations. Another man in a tuxedo came out from a side room and intercepted them.

  “Good evening, gentlemen and lady.”

  Bob bowed low, somehow managing to not look completely ridiculous. “Good evening, sir. Four for dinner, if you please.”

  “Of course. If you would please accompany me, we will arrange suitable dining attire.” He swept them into the side room with a flourish.

  The room was filled with racks of suits and evening gowns. Quentin looked down at his dirty plaid shirt and stained khakis and felt shamefully out of place. He caught Eissa looking at her dirty clothes, and they shared an embarrassed grin.

  “Don’t worry,” Tocho said. “This is what they do. That’s why they have all these clothes. They don’t expect you to show up in a tux.”

  Two small men appeared out of the back and began taking quick measurements on them. After a moment, one of them turned to Eissa.

  “If the lady would accompany me to the gowns, and select a style?” he said, holding his arm out.

  “No chance, Jack. You can set me up in a tuxedo, too. Preferably something purple.”

  Quentin cringed, but the little man handled her like a true professional. With a knowing wink, he placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her toward a rack of tuxedos against the wall.

  “We have an excellent selection in purple. Are you a periwinkle, or a plum?”

  Eissa looked a bit flustered. “I’m a periwinkle, for sure. Nothing too dark.”

  Tocho roared with laughter. “She thought she was going to surprise him with that? You have to try a lot harder than that in this dimension.” His eyes danced with mirth. “Hell, I might go for purple, too.” He followed them, still laughing.

  Quentin glanced at Bob with a grin. Maybe it was an endorphin rush from essentially falling from the roof to the ground in the airlift, or maybe it was that they were in a bustling city around other people after being alone on the island for a month, but he was enormously enjoying himself. Bob smiled back at him, clearly enjoying himself, too.

  Once they all had suits picked out, they were taken to shower and primp. This was an unexpected bonus for Quentin, and he turned the water temperature up as high as he could stand it. While the island life had a lot of things going for it, their outdoor shower had very low water pressure, and the water was heated by the sun. It worked, but it
was a poor substitute for the luxury of a really good shower. By the time he got out, he felt like a new man. He joined the others back in the clothing room.

  Eissa was standing in front of a full-length mirror. She was wearing an exceptionally well-cut periwinkle tuxedo, and it fit her like it had been tailored for her. Her long black hair was pulled back in an intricate braid, and the tailor was pinning a small pale flower to her lapel. It felt strange to Quentin to think of her this way, but she looked stunning.

  “Damn, Eissa, you look incredible. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dressed up like this before.”

  She beamed at him. “Thanks, Q. You look pretty snappy, yourself.”

  Tocho wandered up beside her. He was wearing a black tuxedo with royal purple satin lapels and a matching satin vest and bow tie. He looked quite dashing with his hair in a braid. The tailor turned to him.

  “Would the gentleman care for a handkerchief in his jacket pocket?”

  Tocho’s face lit up with a huge smile. “Yes, yes I would.”

  “And what color would the gentleman prefer?”

  Tocho thought for a moment. “Orange.”

  “Left pocket, or right?”

  “Right.”

  The tailor nodded and fussed with it until it was just right.

  Quentin turned to Bob and leaned in close. “How are we going to pay for all this?”

  Bob’s eyes sparkled in amusement. He pointed to a bench near the door, and they walked over and sat down. “Funding isn’t a problem for us. One of the things Rupert got us, besides our own DimGate, was a bank account full of DimCorp money.”

  Quentin looked at Bob quickly, then looked away. They were rich? How did that work? Did money move between dimensions? He had started with one question, and now he had a hundred. Bob chuckled softly.

  “I can hear the gears grinding in your head, Quentin. It’s just normal electronic banking. Since DimCorp owns the bank, we can use our card in any dimension where there’s a branch. It’s no different than what you’re used to, you just have to know which banks are DimCorp banks.”