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The Other Side of Infinity
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ISBN-10: 1-89484-165-4
Genre: Science Fiction
eBook Length: 340 Pages
Published: July 2002

From inside the flap

What would happen if a hole in space suddenly appeared above the North Pole? Who stands ready to use the event In their tireless quest for power? And how would they do it?

The North Pole enigma. Another world’s voice. Bizarre suicides. The Office and God’s Council of the New Order. The American Inquisition. Genocide. The underground. The black planes. A strange craft. Love’s last song. The Northern Gate? All converge on Brad Hammond, a charter pilot and flight instructor who alone must cope with the alien technology in a world gone mad.

Reviews and Awards

"With The Other Side of Infinity, Kane proves himself to be the Tom Clancy of science fiction. This sci-fi thriller reflects a deft prosestyle, vivid imagery, and meticulous characterizations and plots. A definite 'must read!' "

Edward Lee, author of City Infernal and Monstrosity.

"The Other Side of Infinity is a superb example of the hard science fiction sub-genre, the sort of book that is published all too seldom these days. With its exquisite theoretical science background and attention to engineering detail, such a book would be forgiven if it glossed over the difficulties of characterization, but this one does not. The people who live in the pages of The Other Side of Infinity are as detailed and real as the machines and ideas, as real as anyone walking the streets around us. Characters we care about. Ideas that astound. A thoroughly enjoyable story."

William Barton, author of Acts of Conscience ( won a variant of the PKD award) and Age of Aquarius (a Hugo finalist novelette)

The Other Side of Infinity (Excerpt)


Anger and fear plowed through the old man as he made his final preparations for departure. He knew they would be coming for him. Perhaps they were out there now, hiding within the blanket of early morning fog, waiting for him to run again. But he was finished running. It must stop here, in the rustic old home that had stood for over eighty years in the Pennsylvania countryside, in the house of his birth.

How foolish he had been to describe and show photographs of his latest experiments to a colleague willing to sacrifice science for notoriety. The old man should have recognized the danger when he discovered the photographs missing and, later, when his colleague had been found floating in the Potomac. Maybe then he wouldn't have had to kill that agent.

Although the shared information was insufficient to allow duplication of his work, the knowledge of a breakthrough would certainly bring those who would do anything to steal the secrets locked inside his head, to seize the technology that would devastate a world unprepared for its awesome power. The old man was saddened that so much hard work would not come to fruition. It would end here, with him.

A few more items to dispose of and it would be his turn. But the old man was tired, having worked through the night toward the final moments that would sum his life -- that of a mathematician, teacher, researcher, and finally, a recluse by choice as well as necessity.

He sat, head in hands, at the large oak table on which rested the remnants of his vain efforts. Only the sounds of his breathing and the beat of his heart pierced the quiet of the damp, musty basement.

Faint rays of a new day entered the small window high in the concrete wall directly in front of him. He looked up to see a spider outside the window adding the final strands to its web that glistened in the fresh light. The symmetry of the creature's work was near perfect. To the old man, the web was a tiny model of a larger and infinite network of passageways across space and time. His own work, had it been allowed to continue, might have forged a key to access the web and unlock a window to other worlds. If only there was more time. The door to a new reality had opened just enough to allow a brief glimpse at the wonders beyond. There was so much yet to be learned. The old man's thoughts lingered despairingly on what could have been.

The sound of grinding rock broke his reverie. Vehicles were moving on the gravel road leading to his house.

He hurried to complete the disposal process. His notebooks were first. Then, a knock at the door. He managed to eliminate all remaining photographic equipment and records before the second knock came, with greater force. The old man's heart raced against time as he disposed of the last test fixtures and probes.

The front door burst open with an explosive sound and unfamiliar voices shouted his name. The thumping of heavy and hurried footsteps reverberated throughout the old structure. There was only one item to go: the device that would accompany him. He carefully set the controls, then the timer, and waited.

The basement door splintered and broke from its hinges, then crashed to the floor with a thunderous sound. Men rushed in, eyes frantically searching. All they found was an unrecognizable gray mass resting on a large oak table, and the rush of clear liquid to a corner drain.