COMPLETE THE CIRCLE - A blognovel by Roger Hartopp

Time travel is not going to be invented.

It is just going to happen.

BOOTSTRAP PARADOX: Also known as an ONTOLOGICAL PARADOX. 

A paradox created when someone from the future travels back in time to pass on an object, information, or themselves to someone in the past, who then uses what has been passed to them in order to create that very situation in the future that allows that person to travel back in time with that object, information, or themselves to that same individual in the past…

And David Lutman is going to be an innocent player, with devastating consequences.

But is there a way to break a loop that will essentially be repeated again and again with no apparent end and with devastating consequences every time? Is it even possible to change events if you already have the knowledge on how to do so?

This is what David Lutman is going to find out as the unwitting victim of the bootstrap paradox.

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia: "By His Bootstraps" is a science fiction short story by Robert A. Heinlein that plays with some of the inherent paradoxes that would be caused by time travel. It is from this story that the term 'bootstrap paradox' comes from. "By His Bootstraps" refers to the expression "pulling yourself up by your bootstraps". This short story was originally published in the October 1941 issue of Astounding Science Fiction under the pen name Anson MacDonald. It was reprinted in Heinlein's 1959 collection, The Menace From Earth and in several subsequent anthologies,^[1] and is now available in at least two audio editions. Under the title "The Time Gate", it was also included in a 1958 Crest paperback anthology, "Race to the Stars". 

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Welcome to my first novel, which I am going to be publishing chapter by chapter on this blog (and maybe, in the future, turn it into an e-book, unless I am extremely fortunate to have a publisher). 

The whole story has completed as a draft, and what I will publish here will be effectively that draft. 

Indeed, I may go back to earlier chapters from time to time to correct errors in continuity, grammar, or for other reasons.
So it is not going to be perfect – indeed, as an author from the UK, I am sure my American readers will be happy to point out flaws in dialogue and culture that may occur as my American characters come into play, so please let me know about them and how to correct them in the comments boxes after each chapter!

Pardon the pun, but telling this story will take time.

Click on the links on the right, or scroll down the page for the latest chapter.

So over the next few weeks and months, enjoy the story! 

Roger Hartopp

Do you like this blog? If you are studying English as a second language, then check out my other blog at tsmsinenglish.blogspot.com. It deals with typical student mistakes in English with examples and how to correct them. It's fun, written in an easy, casual prose, and plenty of cartoons!

COMPLETE THE CIRCLE: ACT 1, Chapter 1

ACT 1

Chapter 1

When that fateful thump on the ceiling happened that early September Sunday afternoon, David Lutman was laying splayed across the maroon sofa in his parents’ living room, and was listlessly flitting through a TV listings magazine. The television was on, but he had been paying little attention to it.

He looked up at the swaying light, and wondered whether it was the result of one of those countless heavy and bulky books that he had stacked untidily on the many shelves lining the walls of his bedroom that was directly above.

There was no one else at home. So, convinced it could be nothing else, he got up, and casually strode up the stairs. He turned at the top and traipsed towards his bedroom. Even though he felt certain there was nothing untoward to expect, he still had the feeling that he should open the door cautiously.

And what Lutman saw directly in front of him was so bewildering that he simply froze on the spot. He had no idea whether to scream, faint, or speak. He could only gaze wide-eyed at a male figure who was oddly-dressed in a pink tee-shirt and green shorts. This man was visibly shaking, and he was leaning out of the main window, chest heaving, gulping in as much fresh air as was possible. Then after a few more seconds, the oddly-dressed individual slowly brought his head into the room, and turned to Lutman, who was still firmly rooted to the spot in shock.

Lutman then let out an uncontrolled squeal, his hand raised to suppress a scream that did not want to come. The individual he was now looking at was himself.

Yes, him.

However, his strangely-dressed double did not seem quite so alarmed or surprised. He even managed a smile, albeit forced as he glared at Lutman with a slightly uncomfortable expression. But the individual in the ridiculous pink tee-shirt was clearly him. David Lutman. A living mirror image. A doppelganger.

After several seconds of silence and staring at one another, the other David Lutman put his head back out of the window to resume his deep-breathing, clearly trying to alleviate the onset of nausia. But the David Lutman that could only stand motionless in his own bedroom was completely out of sorts on what to do next.

Another few uncomfortable seconds went past before his double brought his head back inside. He was still gasping, still trying to control his rapid breathing, and he was sweating profusely.

It became apparent to Lutman that this clearly exhausted double of his had been shaken up by something. Despite that odd-looking pink tee-shirt being drenched with perspiration, the inscription I hiked the Grand Canyon could clearly be made out, the words emblazoned right across the chest, along with a print of the national monument. Lutman then looked to the midriff and noticed a tightly-clasped day-glow green baseball cap with the letters ‘DJC’ on the front. Wrapped around the waist of the bright green cloth shorts was a bright blue money bag with a black image of Mickey Mouse on the front. To complete the appearance of what resembled an overenthusiastic tourist, the double was wearing a pair of white sports socks and brand new Nike trainers. There was an odd-looking grey-coloured metal device that was wrapped around his watch wrist: whether it was a watch or not was neither here nor there to Lutman. A more subtle difference between this David Lutman and the other was that this Lutman had slightly longer brown hair. By contrast, the David Lutman that was still struggling to comprehend what was going on was standing motionless in grey socks, and wearing a simple orange sweat shirt and blue jeans.

Now his double's breathing was slowing to something like normality. His complexion began to looked more of a natural color.

And he was the first to actually speak. ‘It’s incredible…’ he puffed, ‘that damn thing really is that accurate – and it’s really got me into my own bedroom!’ He breathed an audible sigh of relief before turning to Lutman. ‘Oh, hello,’ he said chirpily after mopping his still-dripping brow with his sleeve before throwing the day-glow green baseball cap onto Lutman’s bed. ‘I’m you.’ He proffered his sweaty hand.

Still unable to say something meaningful, and not knowing what else to do, Lutman did likewise. Their hands touched. Then suddenly the other David Lutman grabbed it tightly as if he were about to fall out of the very window where he had been standing. Lutman let out a slight squeak of horror just before the other started shaking his hand enthusiastically.

This was the weirdest feeling and sensation that he had ever experienced. Shaking hands with himself. It crossed Lutman’s mind that he really should be totally freaked out by the whole thing, but, he thought, but – if this strange-looking individual was really him, and it was a pretty remarkable likeness if not – then surely this person is harmless. After all, he thought, he believed that he was not capable of doing any harm to anyone.

As Lutman's shocked silence continued, his counterpart began to express some signs of impatience. ‘Hello? You are me, aren’t you? Please talk to me!’ he blurted as he began to relax his hard sweaty grip on Lutman’s hand. Almost convinced his opposite was still in some kind of paralyzing daze, the double frantically waved his free hand in front of him. ‘Talk to me David. Please.’

Finally, Lutman found his voice. ‘Er... hello! Are you really, erm, me…?’

His opposite, evidently relieved that he had managed to obtain some kind of positive reaction out of his other, smiled confidently. ‘I am indeed. I am the one and only… well, I suppose I’m not the only one now, but, yep, I’m really you.' he said, being quite jovial in his manner of speaking. 'I am David Lutman, just as much as you are, except that, well, only I’m David Lutman from the future. How about that!’

He then quickly glanced at his strange-looking wristwatch, and then suddenly became agitated. ‘Oh God. Now, listen to me,’ he said urgently, looking back up at Lutman. ‘I’ve got to ask you something. You’re going to the United States soon, right? You’re going to the West?’

Lutman turned towards the overloaded bookcase that contained the Rand McNally road atlas that he had purchased on his first trip to the United States. ‘Er… well, I, um, still haven’t made up my mind yet, you know,' he said uncertainly, 'I, well, thought about maybe Florida, or even the West Coast. There’s a trip out there that looks rather interesting, but, as I say…’

‘What? California? Arizona? Utah?’ His double’s voice was now impatient for immediate responses.

‘Erm, something like that, yes, I think.’

‘You think? Look, David, listen to me!’ He looked hard into Lutman’s eyes. ‘I’ve got to tell you a couple of things. First, you’re going to meet your wife on this next trip. She’s the most beautiful creature you’ll ever see and–’ He was interrupted by what sounded like a pager. Once again he turned to his strange watch and his face went pale again. ‘Oh shit! Not NOW!’ he spluttered.

He glared at Lutman, yelling, ‘David, listen to me, and listen to me well!’

‘What?’ Lutman shouted, now sensing his anxiety, and very sure that he was about to learn something that would be more important than anything else in his life.

But then his double made for the door. Suddenly, a tiny grey cloud appeared, and this grew very quickly to more or less cover the length and width of the bedroom door. A small hole had appeared in its centre.

The double turned and screamed at Lutman. ‘DCCR! DCCR!’

‘What you on about –?’

‘No Ti –’

The rest of that sentence was never completed. The second David Lutman had jumped into the cloud moments before it had collapsed upon itself and then vanished completely.

The David Lutman still standing in the bedroom, still shocked at what he had just experienced, could only stare at where the cloud had just been. None the wiser as to what had just happened, he had an intense feeling that his doppelganger had, in fact, only just got away.

*

For several seconds afterwards Lutman could do nothing else but stare at his bedroom door. There was no evidence of where his spitting image had been. No evidence that the other David Lutman had even existed. But in his mind’s eye – and it was only now that he thought about this - he could clearly see the large, black, block letters that were splashed across the back of that ludicrous pink tee-shirt on his double as he jumped into the cloud. It had read I’m lying!

Then he turned to his bed, looked down, and gasped. His other self had left his green baseball cap behind.

Chapter 2 >