Hi friends. Is this story some kind of trope violation? Feel free to be brutal - and no need to waste time on a super-thorough analysis - just a general impression. I don't have much vested in this one. Many thanks! KS
The Quantum Eraser Gamble
Darkness gave way to consciousness, confusion and, fear. My arms and legs were strapped to a leather chair. I sat across the table from a media judge in a studio confession chamber, robotic cameras peering at me through the darkness.
"We're live again in twenty seconds," the judge stated.
"What?" I asked behind pounding heartbeats.
A wall-sized display panel behind the judge showed the video frame of an elderly man sitting on park bench. Somehow I knew him, but his identity escaped me.
"Three, two, one, and ... we're back with Ultranet marketing mogul and murder suspect Paul Freeman..."
"What?!" Suspects were guilty, murderers as good as dead. "Hold on ..." I tried to protest.
A hubbub of laughs and whispers arose from behind me. "He doesn't remember..." I heard someone say.
"Order!" the judge demanded, placing a heavy black revolver on the table.
My shocked mind failed to formulate words.
"You've all seen the gruesome photos of the incident," the judge resumed the broadcast. "The dismemberment, the maniacal blood lust. A guilty verdict is inevitable. It's time for you - the Ultranet jury - to render an official verdict with this irrefutable evidence: an exclusive video filmed by the sadistic murderer himself."
The display screen showed a live close-up of my wide-eyed, bewildered face, and then minimized to a top-right PiP frame, old man on park bench front and center. I struggled to breathe, thoughts scattered. A name came to me: Decker.
"The victim was none other than esteemed quantum physicist, Alan Decker," the judge continued.
Even in my terrified state, I marveled at the magnitude of this spectacle - two famous people, a hideous crime, and solid evidence. No doubt my execution would score billions of hits and set the Ultranet on fire.
"Again, this kind of extreme violence should only be viewed by tax-paying consumers," the judge declared with false sobriety. "Without further delay, behold the video evidence, and let the polling begin!"
A sidebar of popular insta-news agencies scrolled down the left side of the display, each with its own innocent-guilty, live-feed pivot bar. I tried to steady my facial expression. It would be my only defense.
The video began with the professor eating lunch on a beautiful day in a park. A bead of sweat rolled down my face in real time. The cameras caught it and guilt meters pegged red for all agencies.
"Here comes the murderer," the judge narrated the video. "This is hard to watch." But no one appeared on the scene, and Professor Decker continued eating his sandwich. It became evident that something wasn't right. The judge signaled his staff.
The frame slow-zoomed to the professor. He dabbed his mouth with a handkerchief and smiled. "Hello world," he began. "You are witnessing the successful outcome of a most remarkable experiment. Obviously I am alive in this universe. Thank you for your distribution expertise, Paul. You are free to go."
The Quantum Eraser Gamble
Darkness gave way to consciousness, confusion and, fear. My arms and legs were strapped to a leather chair. I sat across the table from a media judge in a studio confession chamber, robotic cameras peering at me through the darkness.
"We're live again in twenty seconds," the judge stated.
"What?" I asked behind pounding heartbeats.
A wall-sized display panel behind the judge showed the video frame of an elderly man sitting on park bench. Somehow I knew him, but his identity escaped me.
"Three, two, one, and ... we're back with Ultranet marketing mogul and murder suspect Paul Freeman..."
"What?!" Suspects were guilty, murderers as good as dead. "Hold on ..." I tried to protest.
A hubbub of laughs and whispers arose from behind me. "He doesn't remember..." I heard someone say.
"Order!" the judge demanded, placing a heavy black revolver on the table.
My shocked mind failed to formulate words.
"You've all seen the gruesome photos of the incident," the judge resumed the broadcast. "The dismemberment, the maniacal blood lust. A guilty verdict is inevitable. It's time for you - the Ultranet jury - to render an official verdict with this irrefutable evidence: an exclusive video filmed by the sadistic murderer himself."
The display screen showed a live close-up of my wide-eyed, bewildered face, and then minimized to a top-right PiP frame, old man on park bench front and center. I struggled to breathe, thoughts scattered. A name came to me: Decker.
"The victim was none other than esteemed quantum physicist, Alan Decker," the judge continued.
Even in my terrified state, I marveled at the magnitude of this spectacle - two famous people, a hideous crime, and solid evidence. No doubt my execution would score billions of hits and set the Ultranet on fire.
"Again, this kind of extreme violence should only be viewed by tax-paying consumers," the judge declared with false sobriety. "Without further delay, behold the video evidence, and let the polling begin!"
A sidebar of popular insta-news agencies scrolled down the left side of the display, each with its own innocent-guilty, live-feed pivot bar. I tried to steady my facial expression. It would be my only defense.
The video began with the professor eating lunch on a beautiful day in a park. A bead of sweat rolled down my face in real time. The cameras caught it and guilt meters pegged red for all agencies.
"Here comes the murderer," the judge narrated the video. "This is hard to watch." But no one appeared on the scene, and Professor Decker continued eating his sandwich. It became evident that something wasn't right. The judge signaled his staff.
The frame slow-zoomed to the professor. He dabbed his mouth with a handkerchief and smiled. "Hello world," he began. "You are witnessing the successful outcome of a most remarkable experiment. Obviously I am alive in this universe. Thank you for your distribution expertise, Paul. You are free to go."
)