Chapter Sixty: Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Chapter Sixty

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

It’s a weird little trait of our mammalian brains, that we spend a lot more time thinking about the stimuli near us, be they people, places, activities, what have you, they we do thinking about the stuff that isn’t.  It’s related in some ways, I think, to object impermanence, which is the idea that things don’t exist for newborn’s if they aren’t in front of their faces.  We only lose that a bit.  Like, when you’re away at college, and you’re all about partying, and a little studying, and you almost never think about your family at home.  When was the last time you thought about that cousin you haven’t seen since you were kids?  When you’re on a tropical vacation, relaxing on some Jamaican beach, sipping rum drinks out of coconuts, you aren’t thinking about your poor old dad, struggling to get by without your help.  It is this property of our brains that leads us to make all sorts of selfish and thoughtless decisions, and erodes our better natures by the repetition of this thoughtlessness.

(c) Copyright 2020 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Faster-Than-Light Assassin Strikes Again!

Chapter Fifty-Nine

The Faster-Than-Light Assassin Strikes Again!

I had just stepped outside the warehouse in Baltimore.  My head spinning from what Nemo had just told me.  The air still had its early morning chill, the early June warmth hadn’t taken over the day yet.  It invigorated me, helped me clear my head.  I was lost in my thoughts, which were moving at superluminal speeds.  My eyes looked over the docks, the boats, the harbor, the Baltimore skyline, and the puffy white clouds that dotted the clear blue vista up above, but my brain was everywhere else, it felt like anyway.

A felt the knife slip just under my heart this time.  It came close.  I felt the pain and knew instantly what had happened.  I caught a glimpse of my assailant this time.  A dark blur.  Focus.  A man dressed in a costume identical to mine, except it was a deep indigo rather than black.  A man just as fast as me, or at least nearly.

I recovered my balance before I hit the ground from the attack.  I was on my feet, badly hurt, but still mobile.

I regarded my attacker.

“Hi, Alex,” he said.  He sounded like Will.

“Will?”

He laughed but didn’t respond.

“What’s up with the new suit?” I asked.

“So many questions, Alex.  I thought you were smarter than this.”

It was definitely Will’s voice.  I was sure of it.

I knew with my wound; I would not be able to take him.  He had every advantage.

“Let me finish you, Alex.  Let it all end here,” he said almost pleading, holding the knife with my blood dripping off.  “So many terrible things are going to happen.  But we can stop them, right now.”

“Will, what has happened?  What’s going to happen?” I begged him.  I was terrified of him.  There was something about him that was deeply disquieting.  Disturbing.

“What the fuck happened to you, man?”

He paused and looked up.  “You have no idea, dude, what’s in store for us.  I have to stop it.  It’s the only way.  I’m sorry.”

I took off.  I ran as hard and as fast as I could.  I ran across the multiverse, traveled through time, and kept running.  When I finally stopped, I had no idea where or when I was.  But then, neither did the F-T-L assassin, or some future fucked up version of Will, or whoever he was.

I was lost, alone, but safe.  I still had no idea WTF was going on, and it was really starting to bother me.

(c) Copyright 2020 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Fifty-Eight: Selling England by the Pound

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Selling England by the Pound

If I had to rank the great prog albums of Genesis, from worst to best, I’d go like this:

First, they’re not really Genesis on that first album, so I don’t count it, also, I don’t count anything after Steve Hackett, their brilliant guitarist leaves, some gems sure, but not proggy enough for our purposes.  I do generally prefer the Peter Gabriel fronted Genesis to the Phil Collins fronted Genesis.

 So:

7. Trespass

6. Wind and Wuthering

5. Nursery Crime

4. Trick of the Tail

3. The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway

2.Foxtrot

And the best Genesis album is 1. Selling England by the Pound.

Now, most people who have an opinion about such things, prefer Foxtrot or Lamb.  I know what I like, and I like what I like.

Try and remember that, it’s going to be important later.

(c) Copyright 2020 Diana Hignutt

Happy 420 From Dr. Velocity and the Gang!

I'm sure Dr. Velocity would be mad at me if I didn't wish his avid readers a very Happy 420!  I'm sure our boy, Alex would be kicking back smoking the dank and listening to early Genesis albums, but what you do is up to you.

So, moving forward, looks like I'll be dropping new chapters on Tuesdays and Saturdays (could be late Monday or Friday too), rather then the whenever schedule I've adopted here during the quarantine.  I'm doing this so I can work on another project that's been on the back of my mind for a while. I'll post details of that over on my other blog, themanyworldsofdianahignutt.blogspot.com in the near future.

I hope you have as much fun reading these chapters as I am having writing them.  Thanks so much for reading.

Happy 420!

Chapter Fifty-Seven: I Meet Admiral Nemo (again?)

Chapter Fifty-Seven

I Meet Admiral Nemo (again?)

I went to the address on the letter.  It was a busy warehouse by the docks in Port of Baltimore.  Workers were coming and going.  The letter said to ask for Peter Mammers.  I asked a harried looking woman with a clipboard.  She signed and pointed to the office sign.

I went in the office.  There was a secretary at the reception desk.

“Hi, I have an appointment with Peter Mammers,” I said with a smile.

“Sure, I’ll take you in to see him.”

And in a moment, we went through some more doors and there, in a very large tank of water, was Admiral Nemo.  I got a flash of recognition at the sight of the dolphin.

I heard the words, “Welcome, Alex.   It’s good to see you, again,” inside my head.  It was weird.

“Hey,” I said aloud.

“It’s been a few months.  We’ve been worried about you.  Word is you and the Golden Speedster took each other out.  I’m glad that’s only half true.  Why haven’t you reached out to us?”

“Amnesia and loss of powers,” I replied.  “I just got my speed back, and I’m only starting to get flashes of memories back.  A lot of stuff I’m not clear on.”

“I see.  That explains the situation.  When do you think you’ll be able to get back to work for the Society?”

I hadn’t even thought about that.

(c) Copyright 2020 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Fifty-Six: Phase 2

Chapter Fifty-Six

Phase 2

The only thing a clock could measure would be an anticipatory vibration of the second hand, more potential even than movement, and then it would be the appointed time for Phase 2.  Only two beings even had an inkling about Phase 2, and they were playing it close to the vest.  Not even Nemo, the world’s smartest mammal, knew about its existence, let alone Phase 3.  A secret conspiracy hidden in a plot to takeover the world, and no one suspected but a mysterious speedster known only as the Faster-Than-Light Assassin.  The only one who knew for sure, though, didn’t even exist at the time, except in the most transcendental sense, or perhaps in the penumbra.  As usual, I was completely in the dark.

Phase 2 was set to begin at 07:16:07:34 on October 19, 2022.  Set your alarms.

(c) Copyright 2020 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Fifty-Five: Memory as Time Travel

Chapter Fifty-Five

Memory as Time Travel

Jill told me this one day: “I’ve taught myself to time travel, you know.”

I looked at her calmly, but with some disbelief.

“Not like you, of course, Alex,” she continued.  “Mental Time Travel, I guess you would call it.”

“So,” I replied smugly, “You imagine that you time travel.”

“No. Well, maybe.  It’s like using memory to put yourself back in the past.  You know, like that Ashton Kutcher movie.”

“The Butterfly Effect?”

“Yeah, that one,” she said, filling the bowl of the bong with some Cherry Pie strain and handing it to me.  “I remember a moment and I try to access all the sensory perceptions I had.  I try and remember what I felt.  Funny thing is those moments tend to correspond to weird times in my life when I was disassociating.  I remember feeling strangely sad afterwards.  I’m thinking that my time traveling mind leaked a little bitterness and regret into my past brain.”

“So, not real time travel.”

“Fuck you, Alex.”

I flicked the lighter and took my hit off the bong.  Cherry Pie.

Exhaling, I said, “So, you’re saying that you’ve developed the ability to time travel mentally by sending your consciousness back into the past, but you can only observe, not actually do anything to change anything?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s called memory.”

She scowled.  “Maybe one day I’ll be able to change something.  Do something different.  Then does it count as time travel?”

“Sure,” I agreed.  “Hey, remind me, and I’ll run you and Jackie into the past for some real time travel in the meantime.  When are you off work next?”

(c) Copyright 2020 Diana Hignutt