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Hell's Gate (Multiverse Series #1)

Hell's Gate (Multiverse Series #1)

4.1 12
by David Weber

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The Union of Arcana has expanded through the portals linking parallel universes for over a century and a half. In that time, its soldiers and sorcerers have laid claim to one uninhabited planet after another—all of them Earth, and in the process, the Union has become the most powerful, most wealthy civilization in all of human history. But all of that is


The Union of Arcana has expanded through the portals linking parallel universes for over a century and a half. In that time, its soldiers and sorcerers have laid claim to one uninhabited planet after another—all of them Earth, and in the process, the Union has become the most powerful, most wealthy civilization in all of human history. But all of that is about to come to a screeching halt, for the Union’s scouts have just discovered a new portal, and on its far side lies a shattering revelation. Arcana is not alone, after all. There is another human society, Sharona, which has also been exploring the Multiverse, and the first contact between them did not go well. Arcana is horrified by the alien weapons of its sudden opponents, weapons its sorcerers cannot explain or duplicate. Weapons based upon something called . . . science. But Sharona is equally horrified by Arcana’s “magical” weapons. Neither side expected the confrontation. Both sides think the other fired first, and no one on either side understands the “technology” of the other. But as the initial disastrous contact snowballs into all-out warfare, both sides can agree on one thing. The portal which brought them together is Hell’s Gate itself!

Editorial Reviews

The Barnes & Noble Review
Universes collide in the first installment of David Weber and Linda Evans's ambitious Multiverse series, which pits the human civilizations of two parallel -- but vastly different -- Earths against one another in an all-out war for dominion of an infinite number of worlds beyond worlds and all the endless riches they contain.

Shaylar Nargra-Kolmayr and her husband, Jathmar, are mappers for Sharona's Port Authority. Their job is to survey and map out parallel worlds discovered through newly found portals. Rifle-toting Sharonian explorers have been traversing the multiverse for 80 years without finding a trace of any other sentient civilizations -- that is, until one of Shaylar's team stumbles back to camp with a mortal crossbow injury. The magic-powered Union of Arcana, meanwhile, also assumes it's the only civilization in the entire multiverse. But when a stranger yielding a tubular metallic weapon kills one of Arcana's field operatives, they vow to track down the killer -- with world-shattering results!

While the obvious driving force behind this massive novel (800-plus pages) is Weber's proficiency in military science fiction, the story is powered in large part by the authors' meticulous description of the two divergent worlds of magic and psionic tech. The narrative strength of this novel, strangely enough, becomes almost a weakness -- as much of Hell's Gate is used to "set the table" for what should be numerous future installments. And although the pacing may suffer a bit at points, fans of the prolific Weber (the Honor Harrington saga, et al.) will surely enjoy his epic romp through the multiverse. Paul Goat Allen
Publishers Weekly
Magic and high tech collide in this exciting military SF novel from bestseller Weber (War of Honor) and Evans (Far Edge of Darkness), the first of a new series. Two human societies, the Sharona and the Union of Arcana, have evolved in parallel universes without encountering another civilization, human or otherwise. The Sharona exhibit a level of technology roughly analogous to the late 19th century, with psionic abilities thrown in for seasoning, but the Arcana have harnessed magical energies down to the consumer level. Astonishingly, it's the magical society that suffers the greater shock when one of their companies encounters a small Sharona civilian survey team and is almost annihilated by the enemy's repeating firearms. The authors treat both societies sympathetically and realistically, with human vices and virtues evenly distributed. The narrative bogs down slightly under the weight of the world building necessary for later installments, but is uncompromising in sacrificing even strong, sympathetic characters to the demands of the plot. (Nov.) Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.

Product Details

Publication date:
Multiverse Series , #1
Product dimensions:
6.12(w) x 9.25(h) x 1.56(d)

Read an Excerpt

Hell's Gate

By David Weber Linda Evans

Baen Publishing Enterprises

Copyright © 2006 David Weber & Linda Evans
All right reserved.

ISBN: 1-4165-0939-9

Chapter One

The tall noncom could have stepped straight out of a recruiting poster. His fair hair and height were a legacy from his North Shalhoman ancestors, but he was far, far away-a universe away-from their steep cliffs and icy fjords. His jungle camo fatigues were starched and ironed to razor-sharp creases as he stood on the crude, muddy landing ground with his back to the looming hole of the portal. His immaculate uniform looked almost as bizarrely out of place against the backdrop of the hacked-out jungle clearing as the autumn-kissed red and gold of the forest giants beyond the portal, and he seemed impervious to the swamp-spawned insects zinging about his ears. He wore the shoulder patch of the Second Andaran Temporal Scouts, and the traces of gray at his temples went perfectly with the experience lines etched into his hard, bronzed face.

He gazed up into the painfully bright afternoon sky, blue-gray eyes slitted against the westering sun, with his helmet tucked into the crook of his left elbow and his right thumb hooked into the leather sling of the dragoon arbalest slung over his shoulder. He'd been standing there in the blistering heat for the better part of half an hour, yet he seemed unaware of it. In fact, he didn't even seem to be perspiring, althoughthat had to be an illusion.

He also seemed prepared to stand there for the next week or so, if that was what it took. But then, finally, a black dot appeared against the cloudless blue, and his nostrils flared as he inhaled in satisfaction.

He watched the dot sweep steadily closer, losing altitude as it came, then lifted his helmet and settled it onto his head. He bent his neck, shielding his eyes with his left hand as the dragon back-winged in to a landing. Bits of debris flew on the sudden wind generated by the mighty beast's iridescent-scaled wings, and the noncom waited until the last twigs had pattered back to the ground before he lowered his hand and straightened once more.

The dragon's arrival was a sign of just how inaccessible this forward post actually was. In fact, it was just over seven hundred and twenty miles from the coastal base, in what would have been the swamps of the Kingdom of Farshal in northeastern Hilmar back home. Those were some pretty inhospitable miles, and the mud here was just as gluey as the genuine Hilmaran article, so aerial transport was the only real practical way in at the moment. The noncom himself had arrived back at the post via the regular transport dragon flight less than forty-eight hours earlier, and as he'd surveyed the much below, he'd been struck by just how miserable it would have been to slog through it on foot. How anyone was going to properly exploit a portal in the middle of this godforsaken swamp was more than he could say, but he didn't doubt that the Union Trans-Temporal Transit Authority would find a way. The UTTTA had the best engineers in the universe-in several universes, for that matter-and plenty of experience with portals in terrain even less prepossessing than this.

Probably less prepossessing, anyway.

The dragon went obediently to its knees at the urging of its pilot, and a single passenger swung down the boarding harness strapped about the beast's shoulders. The newcomer was dark-haired, dark-eyed, and even taller than the noncom, although much younger, and each point of his collar bore the single silver shield of a commander of one hundred. Like the noncom, he wore the shoulder flash of the 2nd ATS, and the name "Olderhan, Jasak" was stenciled above his breast pocket. He said something to the dragon's pilot, then strode quickly across the mucky ground towards the waiting one-man welcoming committee.

"Sir!" The noncom snapped to attention and saluted sharply. "Welcome back to this shithole, Sir!" he barked.

"Why, thank you, Chief Sword Threbuch," the officer said amiably, tossing off a far more casual salute in response. Then he extended his right hand and gripped the older man's hand firmly. "I trust the Powers That Be have a suitable reason for dragging me back here, Otwal," he said dryly, and the noncom smiled.

"I wish they hadn't-dragged you back, that is, Sir-but I think you may forgive them in the end," he said. "I'm sort of surprised they managed to catch you, though. I figured you'd be well on your way back to Garth Showma by now."

"So did I," Hundred Olderhan replied wryly. He shook his head. "Unfortunately, Hundred Thalmayr seems to've gotten himself delayed in transit somewhere along the way, and Magister Halathyn was quick enough off the mark to catch me before he got here. If the Magister had only waited another couple of days for Thalmayr to get here to relieve me, I'd have been aboard ship and far enough out to sea to get away clean."

"Sorry about that, Sir." The chief sword grinned. "I hope you'll tell the Five Thousand I tried to get you home for your birthday."

"Oh, Father will forgive you, Otwal," Jasak assured him. "Mother, now ..."

"Please, Sir!" The chief sword shivered dramatically. "I still remember what your lady mother had to say to me when I got the Five Thousand home late for their anniversary."

"According to Father, you did well to get him home at all," the hundred said, and the chief sword shrugged.

"The Five Thousand was too tough for any jaguar to eat, Sir. All I did was stop the bleeding."

"Most he could have expected out of you after he was stupid enough to step right on top of it." The chief sword gave the younger man a sharp look, and the hundred chuckled. "That's the way Father describes it, Otwal. I promise you I'm not being guilty of filial disrespect."

"As the Hundred says," the chief sword agreed.

"But since our lords and masters appear to have seen fit to make me miss my birthday, suppose you tell me exactly what we have here, Chief Sword." The hundred's voice was much crisper, his brown eyes intent, and the chief sword came back to a position midway between stand easy and parade rest.

"Sir, I'm afraid you'll need to ask Magister Halathyn for the details. All I know is that he says the potential tests on this portal's field strength indicate that there's at least one more in close proximity. A big one." "How big?" Jasak asked, his eyes narrowing.

"I don't really know, Sir," Threbuch replied. "I don't think Magister Halathyn does yet, for that matter. But he was muttering something about a class eight."

Sir Jasak Olderhan's eyebrows rose, and he whistled silently. The largest trans-temporal portal so far charted was the Selkara Portal, and it was only a class seven. If Magister Halathyn had, indeed, detected a class eight, then this muddy, swampy hunk of jungle was about to become very valuable real estate.

"In that case, Chief Sword," he said mildly after a moment, "I suppose you'd better get me to Magister Halathyn."

* * *

Halathyn vos Dulainah was very erect, very dark-skinned, and very silver-haired, with a wiry build which was finally beginning to verge on frail. Jasak wasn't certain, but he strongly suspected that the old man was well past the age at which Authority regs mandated the retirement of the Gifted from active fieldwork. Not that anyone was likely to tell Magister Halathyn that. He'd been a law unto himself for decades and the UTTTA's crown jewel ever since he'd left the Mythal Falls Academy twenty years before, and he took an undisguised, almost child-like delight in telling his nominal superiors where they could stuff their regulations.

He hadn't told Jasak exactly why he was out here in the middle of this mud and bug-infested swamp, nor why Magister Gadrial Kelbryan, his second-in-command at the Garth Showma Institute, had followed him out here. He'd insisted with a bland-faced innocence which could not have been bettered by a twelve-year-old caught with his hand actually in the cookie jar, that he was "on vacation." He certainly had to the clout within the UTTTA to commandeer transportation for his own amusement at that was what he really wanted, but Jasak suspected he was actually engaged in some sort of undisclosed research. Not that Magister Halathyn was going to admit it. He was too delighted by the opportunity to be mysterious to waste it.

He was also, as his complexion and the "vos" in front of his surname proclaimed, both a Mythalan and a member of the shakira caste. As a rule, Jasak Olderhan was less than fond of Mythalans ... and considerably less fond than that of the shakira. But Magister Halathyn was the exception to that rule as he was to so many others.

The magister looked up as Chief Sword Threbuch followed Jasak into his tent, the heels of their boots loud on its raised wooden flooring. He tapped his stylus on the crystal display in front of him, freezing his notes and the calculations he'd been performing, and smiled at the hundred over the glassy sphere.

"And how is my second-favorite crude barbarian?" he inquired in genial Andaran.

"As unlettered and impatient as ever, Sir," Jasak replied, in Mythalan, with an answering smile. The old magister chuckled appreciatively and extended his hand for a welcoming shake. Then he cocked his canvas camp chair back at a comfortable, teetering angle and waved for Jasak to seat himself in the matching chair on the far side of his worktable.

"Seriously, Jasak," he said as the younger man obeyed the unspoken command, "I apologize for yanking you back here. I know how hard it was for you to get leave for your birthday in the first place, and I know your parents must have been looking forward to seeing you. But I thought you'd want to be here for this one. And, frankly, with all due respect to Hundred Thalmayr, I'm not sorry he was delayed. All things being equal, I'd prefer to have you in charge just a little longer."

Jasak stopped his grimace before it ever reached his expression, but it wasn't the easiest thing he'd ever done. Although he genuinely had been looking forward to spending his birthday at home in Garth Showma for the first time in over six years, he hadn't been looking forward to handing "his" company over to Hadrign Thalmayr, even temporarily. Partly because of his jealously possessive pride in Charlie Company, but also because Thalmayr-who was senior to him-had only transferred into the Scouts seventeen months ago. From his record, he was a perfectly competent infantry officer, but Jasak hadn't been impressed with the older man's mental flexibility the few times they'd met before Jasak himself had been forward-deployed. And it was pretty clear his previous line infantry experience had left him firmly imbued with the sort of by-the-book mentality the Temporal Scouts worked very hard to eradicate.

Which wasn't something he could discuss with a civilian, even one he respected as deeply as he did Magister Halathyn.

"The Chief Sword said something about a class eight," he said instead, his tone making the statement a question, and Magister Halathyn nodded soberly.

"Unless Gadrial and I are badly mistaken," he said, waving a hand at the letters and esoteric formulae glittering in the water-clear heart of his crystal, "it's at least a class eight. Actually, I suspect it may be even larger."

Jasak sat back in his chair, regarding the old man's lined face intently. Had it been anyone else, he would have been inclined to dismiss the preposterous claim as pure, rampant speculation. But Magister Halathyn wasn't given to speculation.

"If you're right about that, Sir," the hundred said after a moment, "this entire transit chain may just have become a lot more important to the Authority."

"It may," Magister Halathyn agreed. "Then again, it may not." He grimaced. "Whatever size this portal may be-" he tapped the crystal containing his notes "-that portal-" he pointed out through the open fly of his tent at the peculiar hole in the universe which loomed enormously beyond the muddy clearing's western perimeter "-is only a class three. That's going to bottleneck anything coming through from our putative class eight. Not to mention the fact that we're at the end of a ridiculously inconvenient chain at the moment."

"I suppose that depends in part on how far your new portal is from the other side of this one," Jasak pointed out. "The terrain between here and the coast may suck, but it's only seven hundred miles."

"Seven hundred and nineteen-point-three miles," Magister Halathyn corrected with a crooked smile.

"All right, Sir." Jasak accepted the correction with a smile of his own. "That's still a ridiculously short haul compared to most of the portal connections I can think of. And if this new portal of yours is within relatively close proximity to our class three, we're talking about a twofer."

"That really is a remarkably uncouth way to describe a spatially congruent trans-temporal transfer zone," Halathyn said severely.

"I'm just a naturally uncouth sort of fellow, Sir," Jasak agreed cheerfully. "But however you slice it, it's still a two-for-one."

"Yes, it is," Halathyn acknowledged. "Assuming our calculations are sound, of course. In fact, if this new portal is as large as I think it is, and as closely associated with our portal here, I think it's entirely possible that we're looking at a cluster."

Despite all of the magister's many years of discipline, his eyes gleamed, and he couldn't quite keep the excitement out of his voice. Not that Jasak blamed him for that. A portal cluster ... In the better part of two centuries of exploration, UTTTA's survey teams had located only one true cluster, the Zholhara Cluster. Doubletons were the rule-indeed, only sixteen triples had ever been found, which was a rate of less than one in ten. But a cluster like Zholhara was of literally incalculable value.

This far out-they were at the very end of the Lamia Chain, well over three months' travel from Arcana, even for someone who could claim transport dragon priority for the entire trip-even a cluster would take years to fully develop. Lamia, with over twenty portals, was already a huge prize. But if Magister Halathyn was correct, the entire transit chain was about to become even more valuable ... and receive the highest development priority UTTTA could assign.

"Of course," Magister Halathyn continued in the tone of a man forcing himself to keep his enthusiasm in check, "we don't know where this supposed portal of mine connects. It could be the middle of the Great Ransaran Desert. Or an island in the middle of the Western Ocean, like Rycarh Outbound. Or the exact center of the polar ice cap."

"Or it could be a couple of thousand feet up in thin air, which would make for something of a nasty first step," Jasak agreed. "But I suppose we'd better go find it if we really want to know, shouldn't we?"

"My sentiments exactly," the magister agreed, and the hundred looked at the chief sword.

"How soon can we move out on the Magister's heading, Chief Sword?"

"I'm afraid the Hundred would have to ask Fifty Garlath about that," Threbuch replied with absolutely no inflection, and this time Jasak did grimace. The tonelessness of the chief sword's voice shouted his opinion (among other things) of Commander of Fifty Shevan Garlath as an officer of the Union of Arcana. Unfortunately, Sir Jasak Olderhan's opinion exactly matched that of his company's senior non-commissioned officer.

"If the Hundred will recall," the chief sword continued even more tonelessly, "his last decision before his own departure was to authorize Third Platoon's R&R. That leaves Fifty Garlath as the SO here at the base camp."

Jasak winced internally as Threbuch tactfully (sort of) reminded him that leaving Garlath out here at the ass-end of nowhere had been his own idea. Which had seemed like a good one at the time, even if it had been a little petty of him. No, more than a little petty. Quite a bit more, if he wanted to be honest. Chief Sword Threbuch hadn't exactly protested at the time, but his expression had suggested his opinion of the decision. Not because he disagreed that Fifty Therman Ulthar and his men had earned their R&R, but because Shevan Garlath was arguably the most incompetent platoon commander in the entire brigade. Leaving him in charge of anything more complicated than a hot cider stand was not, in the chief sword's considered opinion, a Good Idea.

"We'd have to recall Fifty Ulthar's platoon from the coast, if you want to use him, Sir," the chief sword added, driving home the implied reprimand with exquisite tact.


Excerpted from Hell's Gate by David Weber Linda Evans Copyright © 2006 by David Weber & Linda Evans. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Meet the Author

David Weber
is author of the New York Times best-selling Honor Harrington series as well as Path of the Fury, Mutineers’ Moon and The Armageddon Inheritance and other popular novels. With Steve White, he is the author of Insurrection, Crusade, In Death Ground, and the New York Times best seller The Shiva Option, all novels based on his Starfire SF strategy game. His latest New YorkTimes best seller is 1634: The Baltic War, a collaboration with Eric Flint (Baen).

Linda Evans is coauthor with John Ringo of The Road to Damascus and with Robert Asprin of four novels in the Time Scout series for Baen, and has also collaborated with Asprin on the recent For King & Country. An expert on weapons both modern and ancient, she puts her expertise to good use in her science fiction. She has also written the novel Far Edge of Darkness (Baen), and several short novels for volumes in Baen’s popular Bolo series. She lives in Archer, FL.

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Hell's Gate (Multiverse Series #1) 4.2 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 12 reviews.
Jeff_R More than 1 year ago
This book combines two worlds- one from the traditional scifi, and the other from the traditional fantasy genres, and puts them into a situation where they clash in battle. Not a standard military-focused style, as it dives in deeply into the characters, their emotions and interrelationships. While a very, very long book for a paperback (1200+ pages), the authors use it for good effect to build believable worlds, all existing in alternates of Earth, and to build the characters and their background slowly, while the story progresses. This is an entertaining read, and you will have trouble being able pick a side- the characters of both worlds involved in the conflict have both villains and heroes, and you will, alternately, find yourself rooting for both sides.
Guest More than 1 year ago
excellent, cant wait for the next one. Thats the frustrating part. Its so good, you want the next one right away.
harstan More than 1 year ago
In parallel universes, two humanoid cultures share in common the belief that they are alone as neither the Sharona or and the Union of Arcana have encountered any other civilization as they expand through their universe. The Sharona combine technology with some psionic abilities while the citizens of the Union of Arcana use magic as an everyday energy source. The Arcana have begun to enter portals that take them into the Sharona universe. When these two monolithic societies meet for the first time someone fires the shot heard around the multiverse. Arcanian expedition and military leader Hundred Jasak Olderhan is upset that his squad opened fire and hopes to prevent a war with the survivors of this other human species, but one of his soldiers Fifty Garlath kills an unarmed man. Soon the rest of the Sharonian party of all civilians is annihilated except for two that are taken prisoner, Shaylar and her husband, Jathmar. Now Magic and Science has collided with the first encounter being open hostility. --- This is a terrific opening of the Multiverse series that has two competing societies colliding with distrust and an inability to communicate. The story line is filled with action, but also provides the needed input for readers to understand and believe that Arcana and Sharona exist without choosing magic or science as being the more civilized. Fans of either author will appreciate this fine collaboration in which fantasy and science fiction blend delightfully into a strong out of space thriller. --- Harriet Klausner
Guest More than 1 year ago
The Union of Arcana thought that they were the only human society which existed. They have expanded through naturally forming portals that link parallel universes. Of course, there was a prodical for peaceful first contact should they ever encounter another human society. Yet since no other society had even been found in their century and a half of exploring and mapping Multiverses the prodical seemed a mute point. But that changed the instant an Andaran Scout met a Sharona human. No one will ever know which man fired first. .................... Hundred Jasak Olderhan was in command of the military unit exploring the new area. Not wanting a second disastrous confrontation and still hoping for possible peace, he began a hunt for the other humans and made sure his men knew not to open fire unless attacked. Unfortunately, Fifty Garlath disobeyed those orders and killed an unarmed man that had been trying to peacefully communicate with him. ................. The other human society, Sharona, had been exploring the Multiverses for a long time as well. However, the Sharonian group was made up of civilians and their task was to simply survey and map. The group defended themselves well, but in the end only two survive and are taken prisoner. Shaylar and her husband, Jathmar, had been devastated as the fireballs rained down upon their small group. Shaylar established a telepathic link with another 'Voice' (telepath) far away named Darcel. As Shaylar fought for her life and watched those around her burn alive, Darcel could See, Hear, and Feel everything as if he were there...until Shaylar was knocked unconscious. .................. The Union society had been built with a MAGIC foundation and could not understand how the other society had survived without it. The Sharonian society had been built on a foundation of something called SCIENCE and knew nothing about magic. Neither society understood the other and events were beginning to roll out of control and into war! ................... ***** This is a blending of two exemplary talents by authors David Weber and Linda Evans that will have you begging for more. Having read both authors previously, I could often tell which author did major work on each section. However, there are several sections where the line between the authors blurred. As the reader, I was treated to intelligent tactical strategies and politics. Yet I could easily sympathize with the horror and grief both societies went through. The novel succeeds in telling the view from both societies, not just one. All-in-all, an outstanding beginning for what may very well be one of the best sci-fi series of the decade! *****
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Guest More than 1 year ago
I was surprised that this was the first David Webber novel, I did not bother finishing. After a few hundred pages, I put it on the used book store, trade in pile. Names and ranks are hard to follow, you lose track of who is whom, to what and where they are. Almost as bad as Robert Jordan¿s Wheel of Time series, after a few books, he got wordy, introduced more characters than he could develop, and the story lines/sub-plots became too tedious to follow. All of Webber¿s prior material was tight, fast paced, and not filled with a lot of extra sentences/paragraphs/chapters, that had no real value to the story. But this series is different 'ghost writer?'. I do not recommend this book, or the follow on (Hell has no fury 'like another bad book'). I do, recommend any of his other works, I own everyone of them, and wish there were more like them to buy and read.