literature

Retcon

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Retcon
By M. Hadley


“And there she stood, on one end of the Golden Gate Bridge…hair and skirt blowin’ in the wind, arms ‘kimbo-”

“What’s ‘kimbo’?”

The beautiful, dark-skinned storyteller halted in her verbal tracks with a mock gasp. “Ye mean, ye don’t know?!”

Her four-year-old listener shook her head quickly, the epitome of seriousness on her young face. “You never told me!”

Brushing back strands of shimmering light blue hair from her face, the storyteller gave the young girl a smile of empathy as she stood up from the bed, placing her hands on her hips, elbows pointed away from her. She could not help but think of Peter Pan as she regarded her shadow, dancing across the high ceiling by bedside lamplight. Just like in Barrie’s famous novel, it seemed to have a life of its own, a paragon of justice directly opposite of her self-image of worthlessness.

“See now?” she jutted her bosom out, just like she had seen her hero do hundreds of times. “She was standin’ like this.”

The young girl nodded excitedly, her black and magenta-streaked pigtails waving like streamers. She then laid back down in her bed, drawing her Dora the Explorer blankets up to her chin. Her soft green eyes blinked several times before opening as wide as saucers. The storyteller easily caught the hint. Sleep was creeping over her little charge, but only after the conclusion to the tale.

“Okay, so Freedom is standin’ there, protectin’ the city.” The storyteller took her hands from her hips and held them both sideways before her stomach, as if holding an invisible box. She held the right hand straight up, indicating Freedom. “And on the other side, the Syndicate of Carnality had ‘sicced their ultimate robot on ‘er: Thule! It was massive-”
“Like, big as a building?” the young listener rose to sitting position, clutching her blankets in her pale tiny fists with seething anticipation.

“Huge!” her storyteller boomed, stretching her hands apart as far as she could, nearly falling over. “At least all as big as…as the Empire State Building, maybe. And it had these long legs! The ground shook with every single step it took! BOOM!BOOM! BOOM!”

To demonstrate, she made massive strides across the metal floor, her face twisted into a monstrous visage. With every step, the thick soles of her translucent platform sandals clinked like glass and flashed in a strobe-like manner.

“How did it look? You didn’t say how it looked!” Her sole audience member asked eagerly.
The storyteller shrugged in an exaggerated manner. “Ye know, humanoid-lookin’, like a Gundam. With four awesome-looking legs! And it had a mean-lookin’ scythe…I don’t know why, I mean Freedom was wee tall, and the robot humungous. Leave it to the Syndicate…always big on show, but not common sense.”

“So, what happened?”

“So…” the storyteller took a deep breath. “The robot…Thule…its thunderin’ toward Freedom across the bridge…cables snappin’, cars being crushed or kicked into the Bay, the bridge waverin’…and Freedom could do nought but watch…as certain doom drew nigh…”

“Awwwwwwwwwwwww…” the young girl frowned. “Don’t say it…”

The storyteller chuckled as she returned to the bedside and gently tucked the girl in. “To be continued!!”

“Awwwwwwwwwwwww!!” the girl sighed again.

“Oh, quit yer whinin’, wee one.” The storyteller said softly, drawing back the girl’s bangs with her hand and placing a kiss on her forehead. “I had to wait ‘tire weeks before my stories continued. Ye just have to wait to the morrow!”

“I know, Ms. Kelli.” The little girl withdrew her arms from out of the covers and twiddled her thumbs nervously. “It’s just…I’m really worried ‘bout my momma and daddy. Its fun here, really…like summer camp…but I just want to go home.”

Kelli gave the girl another kiss on the cheek. “Hush now, hen. Ye parents don’t need ye to worry yerself silly. It makes ye old pretty fast. Let the grown-ups worry. Let Freedom worry.”

“Yes…” the girl’s eyes slowly closed. “Freedom…Freedom will save us…”

Soon, the storyteller’s charge was in deep slumber. Kelli silently rose from the bed, flicked off the bedside lamp, and walked over to the door of the room in quick, giant strides. In truth, this was no place for little girls; originally, it was the oversized sleeping quarters of Doctor Werdee, one of the highest ranking officers in the Syndicate of Carnality and the bitterest of Freedom’s enemies. However, after his humiliating defeat by the superheroine, she had quickly seized his extradimensional base and, along with her team of allies, scoured it clean of Zero Stormtroopers.

Glancing over her shoulder at the small slumbering form one final time, Kelli suppressed a shiver. The place held terrible memories for her. Only a few yards down the massive corridor outside was the room where she had been viciously tortured by Syndicate officers. Their reasons weren’t for gaining information or even vengeance for being Freedom’s trusted sidekick, but something much more baseline and sinister.

They simply enjoyed human suffering.

Before the blue-haired young woman realized it, she was standing outside in the silvery metal hallway. She bit her lip, mentally reprimanding herself for her force of habit. The particular Sandals given to her by the Godmother had given her the power of intangibility, and ever since, she had taken the concept of walking through walls for granted. Even after her Sandals had been stolen by the Syndicate, she had to mentally reprogram herself for the menial tasks of opening doors to enter rooms.

But now…she was back where she started.

Her eyes watered as she stared down at her feet, at the Enhancement Sandals. They had been worn by Cinderella herself, given to her by the original “Fairy Godmother”, in legend to merely attend a ball. However, in truth, Cinderella was much more than a victim of an evil stepmother; she had been selected by the alien Rave to protect the Earth from the Syndicate of Carnality, then led by the figure whose name in English translated to “Bluebeard”. The Enhancement Sandals gave Cinderella the power to fight off and defeat the alien invaders, driving them from the ancient Earth.

A well-worn adage was that history repeated itself, and for the Syndicate of Carnality, nothing was more truthful. They struck humanity once again in the present day, causing the ancient “Fairy Godmother” to activate a champion of justice once again. This new protector became Freedom…and after being rescued from certain death in her native Scotland, Kelli pledged her loyalty to her as her crime fighting partner, Specter.

Leaning against the metal door, Kelli slid to the floor, collapsing into sobs. She could still see her savior, trapped in a death struggle with the Martian Monarch, the leader of the Syndicate, as they both were engulfed in a vicious flash of light. Somehow, only the Enhancement Sandals remained. Although Kelli kept them, and prayed that her old friend would return, deep down, she had a sinking feeling that she had borne witness to the Bannered Bombshell’s final adventure.

“Are you okay, Kelli?” a familiar female voice said quietly.

Kelli’s brown eyes widened with a start. Wiping her eyes furiously on her sleeve, she glanced up at into stormy gray eyes behind a red domino mask. A long mane of red, blond, and blue hair framed a beautiful Caucasian face. A shapely, athletic form was clothed in a strikingly unique skirted uniform, decorated in the colors of red, white, and blue. Kelli choked back a string of curses. The being before her was not her beloved idol, but a copy of her…a Banner. They were steam-powered robot duplicates of Freedom, built to be used as decoys, to covertly gather intelligence, or to stand-in for her at public events.
“I’m fine.” Kelli snorted, sniffing.

“My audio-receptors could not help but to overhear.” The Banner said. “It seems that you will soon run out of stories-”

“I know that, damn ye!” Kelli snarled, rising to her feet. “I know that! What cannae I do, ye bucket of bolts?! What cannae I do, huh?!”

The Banner said nothing for a few minutes, its realistic eyes whirring as it inspected Kelli from head to foot. “The answer is pretty simple: make new stories.”

Kelli ran an exasperated hand through her blue locks. “What?”

“If there is no more ‘old stories’ …one simply create new stories.” The Banner droned.

“Are ye daft?” Kelli nearly screamed before calming herself. “What am I doin’? I’m arguin’ with practically a vacuum cleaner…”

“When we Banners were in the programming phase…the Original would download superhero comic content into our memory banks…” the Banner stared into her eyes. “She said it was a way to influence our artificial intelligence in the same way her intelligence was influenced as a human child. Among the content was many titles from the ‘Golden Age’ and ‘Silver Age’ of comics. One hero that comes to mind is ‘The Flash’, the fastest man alive.”

Kelli chuckled slightly, crossing her arms before her bosom. “Aye, Abigail loved comics. But is there a point to this?”

“There are two Flashes.” The Banner held up two fingers. “There is the first one, born in the ‘Golden Age’. His stories were told before he vanished, and his tales told no more. After a period of darkness…a new Flash appeared…He of the ‘Silver Age’. He was different from his predecessor…but similar at the same time. He was a new character…and new tales were told with him. Thus…the Flash perpetually created adventures; he never ran out of stories.”

Kelli turned away from the Banner, her gaze drifting towards the ground. “So…ye sayin’…Freedom has to create new stories?”

“Yes.” The Banner nodded, its neck whirring audibly. “Part of me and my sisters’ programming is this. We are to continue to fight the Syndicate. Even now, I sense no signals from my sisters. It seems that I am the last one functioning, and the Syndicate is continuing to take over the Earth.”

“I’m not ignorant, Nine.” Kelli admitted quietly. “But I’m intimidated. I’m selfish. I’m lonely. The Guardians of Good are gone. It’s just me, now. Me wearin’ the Enhancement Sandals…pretty big shoes to fill, pun not intended.”

“If it bestows you with more initiative, Kelli,” The Banner smiled, an exact replica of the original. “The ‘Silver Age’ Flash had nothing more than the comic books of the ‘Golden Age’ Flash to spur him onward.”

Taking a deep breath, Kelli whirled around and inspected the Banner from head to toe. “Think we’re the same size?”

**************************************************
The next night, the little girl eagerly awaited the conclusion to the showdown between the Bannered Bombshell and her giant robotic adversary. However, she was thoroughly shocked when the metal door to her giant bedroom opened and the Banner, wearing Kelli’s blouse and jean skirt from the previous evening, entered.

“What’s goin’ on, Ms. Nine?” the little girl asked, her voice shaking with uneasiness. “I t-thought Ms. Kelli would finish up the story…”

“Oh, she had to run an errand…” the Banner said as its heavy form sunk into the bed beside the girl.

“I thought we were in another dimension? That we couldn’t go outside or something?”
“Oh Jessica.” The Banner chuckled. “I know I’m not the same as human companionship, but I can at least tell you a story.”

“Really?” Jessica laid down, pulling her Dora the Explorer blankets up to her chin and stifling a yawn. “What’s it about?”

“It’s about Freedom…the Freedom of a new age…” the robot tucked the girl into the covers. “The Silver Age.”
Just a short story about Freedom.
© 2013 - 2024 M-Hadley
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