Kitty Wittgenstein and the Sinister Society of Southpaws (5.2)

5.2 A Pair of Approaches

(note: to go to the beginning of the story, go here, to see all Chapter Five posts, go here and to see all Sinister Society of Southpaws posts, go here)


I wasn’t one hundred percent convinced that a quantum universe prevented me from an inevitable future. But it seemed more promising than the alternative. The way I figured it, there must be a universe in which I did blow up, otherwise where do the memories of that happening come from? I just had to try and make sure it didn’t turn out to be my universe.

I didn’t waste time feeling sorry for the exploding version of me in that other universe. After all, across all the possible universes there were far worse things happening to other versions of me.

In fact, every conceivable horror that could be inflicted upon me was being inflicted on me somewhere. That was the nature of a near-infinite multiverse.

I just had to look after myself.

After checking in at LA, Orlando and I headed straight out and hailed a cab.

There were several ways of unravelling my future memories and trying to ensure they didn’t come true. With emails bouncing back from the only address I knew, I didn’t have any way to contact sinister1. So that ruled out that approach. For now, anyway.

Until I worked out a way to contact him, I was just going to have to approach the problem from the other direction. So, off to Good Stuff headquarters it was. I gave the driver the address.

All wasn’t lost on the sinister1 front either. I had another idea as to how I might be able to track him down.

While Orlando and I sat in the cab. I called Akira. Firstly, to make sure he was okay. I was rather confident he would be, given that he wasn’t due to be kidnapped for a couple of years or so. But secondly, and far more importantly, I needed to speak to Bonnie.

If I recalled correctly, the first emails from sinister1 to Bonnie didn’t commence until a few months from now. But the content of that first email indicated that they’d spoken beforehand.

If they’d already spoken, Bonnie might be able to put me in contact with him.

That was the plan anyway.

The phone rang thrice before being picked up.

“Massage Received,” said a male voice.

“Akira?” I said. This was odd. Not much point having a telephone receptionist if she doesn’t answer the telephone. I started to get a bad feeling.

“Kitty?” said Akira. There was something not right. I could hear it in his voice. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “I’m back in town this week, so I though I might make an appointment with your healing hands.”

“Um… sure,” he said. I could hear him flipping through a notebook.

“Akira, what’s wrong?” I said. “Where’s Bonnie?”

There was silence for a long time.

“Bonnie’s dead,” he eventually said in a whisper.

“Oh, god,” I said. “How?”

“It was… some…”

He couldn’t get the words out.

Not that it mattered. Bonnie was a young woman. She wasn’t just going to fall down dead. Something violent had happened to her. But who was it? Good Stuff? Or the Southpaw Society?

The cab pulled to a halt. “Here we are,” said the driver.

I looked out. The Good Stuff building was not there.

Fantastic.

(to be continued)