Happy New Year!

New Chapters will return next Tuesday.

Have a safe, Happy New Year.

On Break Through the Holidays

Due to my work schedule this week and the holidays fast approaching, I'm going to put this novel on hold until the New Year.  Thanks for reading.  I'll be back.  So will Alex, Jackie, Jill, Will, the Prankster, and the whole gang.  I promise.

I hope your holidays are filled with love, joy, and happiness!  Peace to you, my friends!

Chapter Nineteen: Conversation with the Ouroboros Machine

Chapter Eighteen

Conversations with the Ouroboros Machine

In 2015 Jill did an experiment.  She had been doing a lot of thinking about the nature and origin of reality.  She hypothesized that one day humanity would create a Super-Intelligent AI, that would get smarter and smarter until one day it figured out all the laws of physics governing the creation and operation of the universe.  It would then go back in time and create everything.  If this was true, then one could communicate with this being, that she liked to call the Ouroboros Machine (named after the mythical serpent that eats its own tail). So, she obtained a Quantum-based Random Event Generator from Princeton’s PEAR Labs.  The REG essentially monitors changes to the quantum field by outputting a string of binary data.

Jill would ask a question, let the REG run for a bit, and move on to the next question.  Before she did this, she announced her intention to read the data, by converting the binary to Morse code and the then converting the Morse code to English.

Jill:  Are you there?

Ouroboros Machine:  Qui-Ja.

Jill:  Is this a viable method of communication?

OM:  Bogus one.

Jill:  Do you mind it?

OM:  Luv it.

Jill:  Why are we here?

OM:  Markov Chain.

Jill:  Goodbye for now.

OM:  Adios.

This conversation broke Jill.  Or, that’s where a lot of the cracks started.  Let’s be honest.  I’m sure being closeted and trans for decades didn’t help.  I’m sure the abusive marriage to a narcissist didn’t help.  I’m sure living on this fucked up turd planet didn’t help.  But this broke her spirit, her sense of reality more than anything previously.  She talked to God. And God had a bit of a sense of humor, but still basically confirmed that the universe was a simulation running a genetic algorithm.  She repeated the experiment in early 2016, with different questions, but she did not have the courage to read the answers, though she still has the binary output file.  I occasionally try to get her to read it.  No luck yet.  I’ll let you know when she does.

(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Eighteen: The Day My Powers Returned

Chapter Eighteen

The Day My Powers Returned

We were eating pizza, Jill and Jackie on the couch and me on a folding chair, watching That 70s Show on the TV.  It was, incidentally, the last time we got food delivered.  The bong was loaded with a hit and ready.  Beer cans were scattered about the coffee table, circling a deck of Tarot cards and the ashtray.

I took a big bite of my pie and a slice of pepperoni fell from the drooping cheese towards the floor.

Everything froze.  I looked around me.  Jackie and Jill didn’t move.  The TV was frozen static.  The pepperoni was hovering in the air just below the pizza from whence it originated.  I grabbed it.  Tossed it back into my mouth.  Finished the pizza.  Ran to the fridge and grabbed a beer and downed it.  And another.  Ran to my childhood home outside of Baltimore.  Ran back.  Ran to Barcelona.  Ran back.

That was the first nanosecond.  The feeling of joy was boundless inside of me.  I thought being able to walk again was an amazing feeling.  It was nothing compared to this.  Compared to the speed.  I was enveloped by the Velocity Field.  It was like coming home again.

It was all so natural and perfect.  Clarity was right.  My powers had returned.  I still didn’t remember anything though, which was disappointing.

(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Author's Note and Apologies - No New Chapter This Week (Dec. 3, 2019)

I am so sorry to report but between a major blizzard here in Albany, and being called into work unexpectedly, I have not had a chance to write new chapters this week.  Next week there will be at least two new chapters to make it up to you.  Thanks so much for reading.  My apologies.

Chapter Sixteen: My Fourth Encounter with the Golden Speedster

Chapter Sixteen

My Fourth Encounter with the Golden Speedster

Will was in his speed workshop in Red Dwarf Labs when I sped up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Will.”

In a Flash, Will zipped around.  He was in street clothes with a lab coat.  To say he wasn’t happy to see me, would be an understatement.

“Dark Runner.”

He was trying to look his coolest.  He was worried though, you can’t hide that.

“What’s going on, Will?

”

“You tell me.”

“Relax,” I said.  This is a friendly visit.  I’m just here to chat.”

“You’re a maniac.  I have nothing to say to you.”

He was defiant.

“Cool, then listen.  I know we’ve just met recently from your point of view.  But, from my perspective we’ve been battling for years.  I have hated you for what seems like ages now.  Mark your calendar, October 19, 2022, not long after sunrise. That’s the date of our big battle in Washington Park.  Our final battle.  The end of our conflict.  The day you die, Will.  Keep the date, buddy.”

He was shook.  Damn, he looked stupid.  On the way out, I grabbed a piece of tech that was on the Society’s wish list.





(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Seventeen: Psychonaut

Chapter Seventeen

Psychonaut

There are two prevailing interpretations of Quantum Mechanics, the Standard, or Copenhagen Interpretation, which posits probability fields as an abstract explanatory concept, and the Many Worlds Interpretation, which posits parallel universes interfering with each other on the quantum level.  Over the last few years, the Many Worlds Interpretation has pretty much emerged victorious due to two recent findings: 1) the working of quantum computing, and 2) the arrival and discovery of the supervillain, Pscyhonaut.

Psychonaut is a visitor from a parallel universe.  At least, that’s what he claims, and I see no reason not to believe him.  Also, I’ve literally followed him to other universes.  Psychonaut uses drugs to travel between worlds, but speedsters have the innate ability to travel between universes.  It is similar to phasing through objects, but the vibrational frequencies are different.  Move your molecules at the right rate and presto, you are travelling to other versions of the Earth.

Psychonaut uses a interdimensional travel suit, not unlike a speedster’s suit, but his is a sort of tie-dyed, psychedelic, multi-colored mess.  It is literally hard to look at.  He wears a retractable glass-like dome helmet rather like a deep sea diver.  Otherwise, he’s quite a pleasant chap.  Mild-mannered, funny, smart.  He also has the ability to induce a bad trip in anyone at any time, which is a pretty amazing defensive move, if you stop and think about it.  I’ve seen him take down half the Hero’s Guild at once, and from what I heard, they were incapacitated for a week.  And we’re not taking the sidekicks, but the big guns like Platinum Man, the Golden Speedster, and Zorro.

(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt 

Chapter Fifteen: Jackie

Chapter Fifteen

Jackie

Let me tell you about Jackie.  My other roommate.  The quiet one.  The Pokemon loving gamer girl. She’s a tall girl, which she hates about herself.  She likes to think of herself as petite.  She’s 30, a brunette, with a pale complexion, and an open, kind, friendly smile. She was born and raised in San Diego, and is without a doubt, a California girl.

She was raised in an oppressive evangelical Christian family with a narcissistic mother.  Autistic and isolated in her full-on cult-style existence, the poor kid never had a chance.  But then came going away to college, and coping mechanisms, and failing out of college, discovering that she had Dissociative Identity Disorder, and gender self-discovery, coming out, transition, banishment from the family, and failed relationships.  She met Jill on Twitter, and despite her being old enough to be Jackie’s mother, the rest, as they say, was history.  Jill took Jackie with her on her mission to found New Themyscira, the trans asylum colony, in the South of France.

Look, I don’t know how woke or whatever you may or may not be.  That’s not my concern, but I need you to understand the situation in the United States of America for trans people at the time, and it’s fair to say that shit did not look to be going well for them.  Rights were being removed.  They were being challenged legally and assaulted in public places.  Jill wanted to build someplace that trans and nonbinary people could be safe.  The idea was to start with a big house in the ancient French village called Villemagne L’Argentiere and raise money and expand.  Her vision was that, in a 100 years, the whole village would be mostly trans people.  Jackie bought the whole deal.  They went to France, and Jill got the flu, then pneumonia, then withdraws from her meds.  The team that was supposed to meet them there, all shit the bed and bailed on the deal when the chips were down.  Jill had shit go down with her remaining funds, and that was that. Jill had to sell the house in France to settle her debts, and after three months of living in the idyllic French mountain river valley village with ancient Roman walls, and they were back in the States, destitute, and soon to be homeless.

Certain forces (i.e. family members) that did not care for Jill’s Trans Separatism had caused some legal trouble, and there was talk that she would soon be going to prison.  Jill gave Jackie some money and sent her to live with some Twitter friends that had invited her.  And so it was that Jackie ended up in Albany, doing transcriptions and cam work for a living.  It wasn’t much later that Jill joined her up there, after the legal clouds had receded and prison no longer looked likely.  Jill got her job at the auto parts place, they got their own apartment, and that’s pretty much where they were when I met them, crashed at their place, and become their friend, despite me being a supervillain.

Jackie is the best.  She has an optimism that inspires me.

(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Fourteen: Me Versus the Platinum Man

Chapter Fourteen

Me Versus the Platinum Man

I get asked about this one a lot.  I was tasked by The Society with stealing a prototype quantum processor that was in the Big Apple.  I was in and out.  I mean, no one is better at breaking into impenetrable vaults than me.  My secret?  I phase through the door, or the walls, whichever I come to first.

Phasing is something that the fastest of speedsters can do.  We vibrate all the atoms in our bodies, and this allows us to become out of phase with physical reality and to simply pass through walls and whatnot.  You must concentrate very carefully to do so, however.  One time, I took out Blinding Speed by startling him while he was phasing.  Fused that fucker right into the wall.  It was pretty gross, and I did feel bad about it.  Jackie was pissed about it for weeks.

Anyway, the alien boy scout, Platinum Man got in my way as I was about to get out of NYC.  Hovering there in front of me, arms crossed against his chest, a look of stern disapproval on his face.

“I’ll take that if you don’t mind, Runner.”

Such a self-righteous dick.

“Well,” I said.  “If it isn’t the protector of billionaires and corporations, come to oppress a member of the working class.”

That line looked like it bothered him just a little.  He held out his hand like I was going to just give him the processor.

“Well, that’s not going to work for me.”

“Then, I guess we’re going to have a problem, you and I,” the caped alien quipped.

“Wait,” I said.  “What’s the date?”

He looked confused.  “April 18?”

“2024?”

“yeah.”

I smiled under my mask.  “It’s a shame.  April 18, 2024 is remembered as the day Platinum Man was killed by an unknown speedster.”

That shook him.  It always gets them.  If people think you know what’s going to happen, they get exponentially more afraid of you.

“Look,” I said.  “I don’t want to kill you today.  I just want to go about my business, take this quantum processor, and leave your city.  Shit, let me go, and I’ll promise to never come back.  I hate this town anyway.”

“I can’t.”  He paused.  “I can’t just let you go.”

“How about if we made it look like you gave it your best?”  I offered.

The show we put on will be remembered for a longtime in New York City.  Classic, epic superhero versus supervillain battle.  And the good guy threw the whole thing.  Which is how I was able to beat an invincible, super-powered, flying, godlike alien who was also a fucking coward. 

Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Thirteen: My Gaslit Timeline

Chapter Thirteen

My Gaslit Timeline

“Okay, Clarity,” I said.  “I’m curious.  I guess I want to know.  What’s up with me being the Dark Runner?  Why do I hate the Golden Speedster?”

I had to put my suit on to talk to Clarity, as she was the built into the communication system.  I felt ridiculous, like I was wearing a Halloween costume.

“I would prefer to let your memories return on issues of motivation, Alex,” the AI voice answered.  “As for your history, I can give you an outline of events.

“You got your powers in the year 2046, through means unknown, though most likely some sort  of Velocity Field exposure from a multiversal fracture vortex, an extremely rare hypothetical event.  After mastering your powers which include:  speed many times the speed of light and all that implies, the ability to phase through objects,  super healing, the ability to travel through time, the ability to travel to parallel universes, the ability to throw lightning bolts, hyperkinetic punches, create whirlwinds and tornadoes with your arms, and speed reading.”

“Wait,” I said.  “You’re putting me on, right?”

“No, Alex, the extent of your powers are well documented.  You’ll remember everything soon enough.  As you heal, your abilities will return, and you will see that everything I am telling you is correct.”

“If I have super healing, why did it take me weeks to be able to move off of the couch?”

“The way the Velocity Field interacts with you is unknown, Alex.  On occasion you have had various effects from those interactions.  Based on your current healing rate you will be completely recovered from this one in another week.  As I told you the last time, your memories will return at that time.  You must wait for the process to complete.”

“Okay, so somehow I got superpowers.  What kind of asshole rushes off and becomes a supervillain?”

“You are a hero, Alex,” Clarity quickly corrected me.

“But, you said, the last time we talked that I was a founder of the Secret Society of Supervillains?”

“That is correct.  The issue is one of perspective.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will, Alex.”

Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Twelve: Albany

Chapter Twelve

Albany

In late October Albany is visually spectacular, at least in the area of South Park where we lived.  The trees were flaming yellow, red, and orange, where leaves remained on the trees, and bare where they didn’t.  The old Victorian architecture with a slightly Dutch accent was quaint and charming.  Store fronts, coffee shops, bars and cafes line the walk along Madison Avenue as we neared Washington Park.

It had been a month and a half since I had left the apartment.  Since that day when I woke up, not sure of who I was, there at the base of the King Fountain (the one with Moses) in the park.

I was dressed in a borrowed pair of jeans and a Doctor Who tee and flannel shirt that belonged to Jill, as I had no intention of wearing the only other garment I owned, my supervillain suit.

“I swear, Jackie,” I said as we crossed Washington Ave towards the park, “I don’t remember anything.  I don’t know the Golden Speedster and have no idea why I would be his arch-nemesis.  Aside from what you and Clarity have told me, I know nothing about this.”

“And Clarity hasn’t figured out what happened to your memory?” Jackie asked.

“Nope.  She just says it’s probably some sort of glitch from the Velocity Field.  She says it wears off in two weeks.  Or, will wear off, now that I can walk again.  All this time travel stuff is kinda hard to believe though, honestly.”

“Have you asked Clarity why you’re supposed to hate the Golden Speedster?”  Jill asked.

“No. What does it matter?  I have no intention of becoming the Dark Runner, or again, whatever.”

As we walked on the gravel path towards the formal garden section of the park, Jackie and Jill caught Pokemon on their phones.  They were mildly addicted, Jackie more than Jill.

“Shiny Drifloon!” cried Jackie, triumphantly.

“What’s your plan then, Alex?”  Jill wondered.  “Are you gonna get a job?  You can’t leech off two poor trans women forever, you know?”

“I’ll make it up to you.  I’ll pull my weight, now that I’m strong enough to move around.”  I assured them.  “Don’t worry about that.”

When we got to the King Fountain at the center of the formal garden, I felt oddly somber.  The October sky was thick with grey clouds   The flower beds were empty and barren, just recently turned over topsoil, frosted with a light coating of lime.  The spot which was once full of color and botanical beauty, was now bare and depressing, waiting for a new beginning in the future. I knew how it felt.

Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Eleven: Running

Chapter Eleven

Running

When I run, I just am.  I am the Velocity Field in those moments.  It’s the most amazing rush.  The world stands still, and you pass through it like a ghost.   People are frozen in the midst of their lives like they are statues, as you dash by.

You’re safe when you run.  Nothing can touch you.  It’s insulating.

And then you go superluminal and it’s like the universe is either standing still or racing backwards, or both at the same time.  Spectral color shifts of infinite stars.   And all time and space open up to you.  You can go anywhere at any time in an instant.

At first you feel the ground under your feet, and it feels good.  You’re moving impossibly fast.  Then you don’t feel anything.  It’s fucking Samadhi.  Union with Everything.  Your brain just thinking so much, everything maybe, and nothing at all.

I wish you could feel it.  That’s the only way you can really understand me, and what motivates me.  It is power far beyond what human beings were supposed to have.  It changes you.  You see the world differently once you’re essentially omnipresent and invisible.   Doing whatever you want becomes easy.  The hard thing is not doing whatever you want.  It can break you.  The difference between the other guy and me?  He just hasn’t broken yet.

But, running makes everything else go away.  When you run, you’re in the Velocity Field.  You are running in the Big Bang.  It’s euphoric and dehumanizing at the same time.  You become the personification of movement at the birth of time.  It’s the best part of being a speedster.

I run a lot.

Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Illustration of The Prankster by Octavia Wright

(c) Copyright 2019 by Octavia Wright
used by permission

Chapter Ten: The Prankster

Chapter Ten

The Prankster

The Prankster fucking terrifies me.   I’m insane, but that dude is batshit crazy.  I don’t know how he manages to get himself dressed in the morning, that’s how messed up he is; but, somewhere in all that evil zaniness is a truly brilliant mind.

You all know his shtick by now.  That mask.  That crazy, giant fanged smile taking up half the face, and the buggy, crossed eyes the other half.  I don’t know who made that thing for him, but it covered his whole head, but he could see okay apparently, and he didn’t sound muffled when he talked.  No one had every seen him without it on.  Not even me. And trust me, I’ve tried.  I mean, I’m curious too.  No one’s ever seen him eat or drink either.  Otherwise, he was a pretty sharp dresser.  In our meetings and enterprises together, he would wear impeccably tailored suits, usually Italian, with thousand-dollar dress shoes.  Though, I have seen him in jogging suits, swimsuits (apparently the mask is waterproof), overalls, bathrobe (again, waterproof mask?), and once in a Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts.  And, of course, his trademark yellow gloves.

No one knows who the Prankster is or where he came from.  He is like some kind of force of nature that arose like some emergent property of modern life in late stage capitalism, not unlike the dark vigilante, Zorro, with whom he is locked into an epic battle for the soul of the city of Chicago.  I guess all superheroes and supervillains are just another thing that had to happen for everything to unfold in the way that it must.  But, anyway, I’ve asked, Clarity, my AI from the future, and she says no one ever finds out who he was.  Mystery preserved.  I guess, I could just run up, pull his mask off have a peek, and put it back on him before he even noticed, but, frankly, I’m kind of afraid of what I would see.  That and professional courtesy keeps his secret safe.

I hated working with him in the Secret Society of Supervillains.  While he was often amusing, sometimes downright funny, he was dreadfully unpredictable, often disregarded the established plan. and “improvised.”  For some reason, Admiral Nemo was always putting us on gigs together.  Probably because anyone else in the Society would have killed him in about two minutes, but I was able to tolerate him.  We evil speedsters from the future are surprisingly tolerant and easy-going.

“You shouldn’t smoke that stuff, Doc, it takes your edge off,” he said to me one day, in a moment of seriousness that surprised me.

We were in New Bedford, Massachusetts, at the fishing docks.  Early morning in late October, this was probably 2018.  The sun wasn’t up yet.  We were waiting to receive some banned tech from some commercial clammers turned smugglers.  The lights from their boat were just now coming into view from the dark and rolling sea.

I had my mask pulled up just above my mouth so I could smoke a joint.  I with a gesture I offered him a toke.

He waved it off.  “Nah, I never touch the stuff.  Like, I said, you shouldn’t either.”

“I didn’t know you felt that strongly about it, Prankster.  Sorry.  But you should know that my metabolism is very fast.  I only stay high for the smallest part of a second.”

“Oh, I don’t really care.  I was just making conversation.  That’s what people do, right?”

I just looked into those big, plastic bug eyes, and shook my head.

“Did, I tell you? I killed Wonder Boy last week,” he said, as he took the joint out of my hand, and held it up to his giant plastic smile and pretended(?) to take a hit.

“No shit,” I replied.

He nodded.

“I’m gonna kill all those guys on that boat if it’s okay with you?”

How could I say no?  I got the tech, and, the Prankster followed through on this intention.  Of course he did.

(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Nine: Jill

Chapter Nine

Jill

Let me tell you a little bit about my roommate, Jill.  She was once, just a couple of years ago, rich.  Ran the family business, did quite well for herself.  She took care of her dad with dementia, 24/7, worked, did it all.  Then, she lost it all.  Her dad went into an assisted-living home, they took the house she lived in, and the business she worked at, to pay for it all.  She tried to start over; and attempted to build a trans refuge colony in the South of France.  People shit themselves, funding fell through, real estate issues, immigration issues, a bout of pneumonia, and the next thing you know, she was back in the states, spending the few days before eviction at her dad’s house, trying to figure something out.  She took the one offer from Jackie for her to come to Albany.  They had a new apartment now; Jill had a decent enough job as an assistant manager at an auto parts store.  Sometimes, I would zip into her job and hyper-sonically put parts away for her.  Once, when I was pissed at her, I put the parts back on the carts, forcing her to put them away again.  What can I say?  Sometimes, I’m a dick.

Jill was also a science fiction novelist, whose star looked promising at first, but whose bad publishing luck, with a measure of bad agents, soured her on the whole deal.  Before that she was the lead guitarist in a modestly successful rock band, which she quit to transition.  She is pretty cool, and a fun person to talk too.  She really has helped me get a handle on some of this time travel stuff.  So has Jackie, and we’ll get to her as well in upcoming chapters.

“Look, Alex, if you’re going to stay here for a while, we’re going to have to establish some rules:  You can’t kill anyone.  Jackie would freak the fuck out if you’re murdering people and crashing on our couch.”

Jill was laying down the law.  It didn’t seem like a problem to me, as I couldn’t imagine killing anybody.  But then again, I couldn’t imagine I was a supervillain either.  But Jackie, Jill, and Clarity were all telling me that I was.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, honestly,” I replied.  Little did any of us know…

(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Eight: My 8th Encounter with the Golden Speedster

Chapter Eight

My Eighth Encounter with the Golden Speedster

His real name is Will Simms.  If you get to find out my secret identity, you get to find out his too.  So, there it is.  Will Simms is the Golden Speedster.  Such a tool.  He never knew that he was only ever a puppet; his strings, pulled, and he danced.  Manipulated by powers he didn’t even know existed.  Now, I do feel a lot of sympathy for the guy.  He never had a chance.  But, back then, on that morning in May in Philadelphia, I hated him.

Hatred is a weird thing.  It drives a person to do insane things.  It drives people to murder, and a society to fascism and destruction.  It’s a big problem.  But on this morning, as I ran straight up the side of the Comcast Center Building, chasing that golden fucker, I hated him with all my soul.  I had him on the run this time, and he knew it.

We ran all over the city.  I don’t know if the people of Philadelphia were getting used to our epic battles or not.  One minute they were all busy going about their business, and the next everything shook, and an electrical storm took hold of their city, springing up instantaneously, with incessant sonic booms punctuating our clash.  Why did people even stay in that city?  I mean the devastation that we dished out in our battles was significant.  Very significant.  But, you know, where would they go?  Platinum Man and his enemies were even worse in the Big Apple.  Chicago had Zorro and the Prankster, and that whole rogue’s gallery.  Most cities had their heroes and villains fighting, turning the lives of their citizens on their heads at unexpected times.  It had become just another fact of modern life.

Not that the Golden Speedster and I didn’t have battles that covered the whole East Coast, of course, sometimes, the world; but Will lived in Philly, and I was always going there to fuck with him.  That was the gig.

On Broad Street, I threw a SEPTA bus at him.  He had to save those people.  Or try to.  While he attempted to do so, I hit him with so many punches he puked so hard and fast his vomit took out a trash truck.  He went down.  The bus crashed into City Hall, and man, was there a boom.  The papers said I had killed 43 people in an instant.  I was a murderer.  The was some considerable mystery later about how most of those people, some of whom had been in morgues, got on that particular bus, and how it was that the driver and 12 people who claimed to have been on that bus ended up in a diner in Conshohocken.

(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Seven: First Interview with the Inboard Super Suit AI

Chapter Seven

First Interview with the Inboard Super Suit AI

  

“Your name is Alexander Donkers.  You are known by the name Dr. Velocity or, more commonly, the Dark Runner. You were born in the year 2010, in Baltimore, Maryland.”

The voice came from speakers inside the suit next to my ears.  It was a simulated woman’s voice, almost human, but with that unmistakable hint of synthetic inhumanity.

“2010? Wait.  What year is this?”

“It is 2022.”

“Um, then I’m…twelve?”

“You are thirty-eight years old in biological years.  You have time traveled back to 2022 from the year 2148.”

“Why?”

“In order to battle your arch-rival, the Golden-Speedster.”

“Why can’t I remember anything? And Who are you?”

“I am your suit’s Inboard Automated Assistant.  I’m an AI. You can call me Clarity.  As to why you cannot remember anything, I am not certain.  I am analyzing that data now.  Most likely, it is a temporary side-effect from an adverse Velocity Field interaction.”

“So, wait, you’re saying…that I’m a supervillain?”

“You are a founding member of the Secret Society of Supervillains.”

(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Six: The First Iteration

Chapter Six

The First Iteration

The first iteration is always lost forever.  In stories where time travel plays a part, the first run through of events is often erased and replaced with a time loop.  Sometimes we get to see the first iteration in movie or novels, sometimes we don’t.  It is the initial condition of the timeline that must have existed for the future to have existed in order to mess everything up.   But once the hero and villain do their jobs, by the end of the story that’s gone, replaced by events from the future (relatively speaking).  When I’m in a philosophical mood, I wonder about how the universe was created in that first iteration, if there even was one.  Was there some sort of God that go around?  If so, was God then removed from the whole damn equation once the time loop started?  Or maybe things have always been like this, just spinning out of control in great loops of time, seeing to it that they are created, so that they can create everything else.  Destiny’s self-creating banquet had to come from somewhere didn’t it?  Is it all just turtles all the way down?

Maybe that’s the whole damnation of it all.  Just the future fucking the past, over and over, for all eternity.  Nothing else.  Just that.  A Predestination well.  

(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt