The Real World

by Jacob Long

  Before walking out, I spot a leather bracelet with a metal ring on it. I modify my imitation device to make it look like I'm wearing it and start to leave. I reach the door and stop. I don't know why, but I feel like I should take that bracelet. Normally, I wouldn't take something like that, but there is something significant about this bracelet. And in a way, I am him, so it's not really stealing, is it? I grab the bracelet, put it on and walk outside.

  I walk to the edge of the lawn and step out to the curb to see if I can spot the driver. There are a lot of cars, and they are all just driving swiftly by. I use my manica to do a search on taxis. I've heard of them before, but I've never seen one. We have had no need for them on either of the islands. I come across an article about the new type of taxi for the twenty-first century. I finish reading some stories about bad experiences with these services as the driver pulls up. It's not a traditional old taxi cab. The paint on the car is black instead of black and yellow. It looks nicer and more civilian like than any car that I've ever seen.

  The internet search recommended sitting in the back seat if I prefer not to talk much, so that's what I do. That choice, however, does not deter my friendly and possibly over-excited driver. As soon as I sit down, he turns around and extends his hand to me. "Hi, I'm Mark. What's your name?" he asks. "Uh, Jayden," I reply. I'm not sure if there is any harm in using my real name. For all I know, my double from this world could be named Bruce or Logan or Nathan.

  "Oh, well it's nice to meet you, Jayden." He stares at me for a moment as if I look familiar. He eyes the bracelet. "Are you going to Comic-Con later today?" he asks. "Uh, no," I reply. "Huh, oh. You just look like you're dressed like that one guy." I stare at him confused. "I mean, not when he's in his superhero costume, but when he has to go all incognito for some reason. I don't really know why. I never read the comics. My kids are really excited about the movie though."

  "Huh," I say while trying to think of an actual reply. "Yeah, I'm not sure." "Well, all right." He smiles cordially. "Okay, so looks like we're going to the mall then huh?" He sits back in his seat and looks to the road for an opening in between passing vehicles. "What's the mall?" I ask. "Is that where the movie theater is?" "Yes, exactly." Mark seems nice but slightly stressed out. He turns his head forward again and, the car bursts onto the road. "Are you from out of town?" he asks. "Uh, yeah. I'm from a few cities over," I reply, not sure what to say. "Oh, well, don't worry, I will get you to your movie theater on time," Mark says. He seems to be forcing his smile a little bit.

  He's definitely concealing some stress. I turn my gaze out the window in order to avoid absorbing it. As I look around, I find it strange to see so many cars on the streets. The buildings are mostly different from the ones that we have on Idem. They are more similar to the ones in Paradisum however they're placement isn't quite as structured. Aside from the rolling hills landscape, this place is much different than anything I have ever seen. Even pictures that my Great Grandpa showed me were different.

  "Oh, I see that you're enjoying the scenery. Yeah, not much to look at really. Too many buildings these days." I'm not sure how verbally to respond, so I smile and nod. "Are you sure you're from around here? He says. I must be looking very intently. I've never seen anyone so fascinated with the landscape." "Yeah, I just haven't been outside for a while," I say hoping to appease him. "Oh, so you work at home or something?" He just can't seem to stop talking.

  He seems friendly and innocent enough, but if my double is on the Ministry's radar, they could have been the ones that sent this driver as a spy. I'm not entirely sure how far their reach is in this world. I try and direct the conversation toward him. If he is a spy, I'll find out how good his backstory is. "Yeah, I just wanted to break up the monotony of the day and go see a movie. Do you like to watch movies?”

  "Who me? Oh, definitely. I really like to take my kids to the movies on the weekends. One of them is in college, so he doesn't want to go with us as much, but we get him to come around sometimes." Before he can ask me another question, I say, "That sounds like a fun thing to do. How many kids do you have?" "Oh, wow. Yeah, let's see. There's Brad. He's the one in college. Next is Cindy she's a sophomore in high school, then there are the twins Carly and Max. They're what, twelve right now, I think. And Mindy she's five. Just started kindergarten this year. Man, they just grow up so fast- oh, looks like we have arrived."

  As we ride into the parking lot, I spot the large sign for the CineStar theater. It looks a little old, but still nice. Mark pulls up near the curb and stops the car. "All right, here we are. I just have to say; you were a great passenger. I'm going to give you a terrific rating. Oh, and B-T-W- the awkward matter of the fee. It's going to be five dollars." He smiles, and we stare at each other for a moment. "Oh," I reply. "Just a second." I turn my head to the window and whisper, "RT how do I pay this guy?" Mark turns his face back to me. "Say what?" he asks. "Just mumbling to myself. I think my roommate took my wallet," I say.

  "Oh wow. Look, kid. You were really nice, but I have kids of my own to put through college. I can't just give out free ride-" A beep comes from his phone. "Oh, wait. Well, that will do just fine. Sorry about the hassle, I just really need this job. Have a great night," he says. "Yeah, no worries. You too," I say as I get out of the car. I walk at a decent pace toward the mall entrance. "Thanks, RT," I say. "You can thank your doppelganger. I hacked into his bank account. What's his is yours right?" "Sure. I suppose. So how do I get to the theater?" Just walk through those doors, take the escalator and take a U-turn to your left then you'll walk straight into the theater." "Thanks." The escalator is a unique experience to be sure. I've heard of these machines, but we don't have any on the island.

  As I finally get over how amazing the escalator is, a thought crosses my mind. If I look exactly like this guy, won't there be some confusion when I walk into the theater, and there are two of us? Oh yeah. The imitation device. I can look like someone else. I do a quick internet search and find someone to look like. I look around and spot some doors to a hallway that I can use to adjust the imitation device. I casually walk over, doing my best not to appear anxious as the curious mall cop follows me with his eyes.

  Once I get past the doors, I can hear voices at the other end of the hallway. I quickly adjust my device before two men walk around the corner, staring at me. Behind them is a pallet full of boxes. I wave to them. They wave back, and I walk out of the doorway, bumping into the security guy. He looks surprised to see me. "Was there- did you see another guy go in here?" he asks. "There are a couple of guys down there with boxes," I point. "Huh, maybe they saw him." He scans my face. "You look familiar. Huh, well, I'm going to go and talk to those guys. Thanks." "No problem," I reply as I make my way back to the theater.

  Now, I think it might not have been a good idea to look like someone from a picture off of the internet. The ticket booth girl spots me, so I decide to wait until she has customers to help before I make a brisk walk toward the lobby making sure to keep the brim of my hat turned downward. Just as I walk in, I can't help but take a quick glance up to see if she's still looking.

  Our eyes meet, and for a second, I see Elena. I am almost stunned by the thought. I realize that she just looks similar. The moment quickly ends as I remember that I need to avoid being seen. I rush inside the lobby and bump into someone. "Whoa, easy there," he says. "Did you get mesmerized by that girl at the box office?" "Huh? Oh, yeah, I mean kind of- I..." The word trails off as I see him staring at me in pure shock and awe. I begin to realize that I'm reacting the same way as I realize that I'm looking into the eyes of my doppelganger.

  11

  The same dark shade of blue. His eyes are exactly like mine. Everything appears to be exactly the same from the dirty blonde hair to the freckle that we have on our necks. We even have roughly the same build. Although, I think I have about ten more pounds of muscle. Just saying. It's hard to tell for sure since our clothes are quite a bit different. He's wearing a blue suit with a light gray shirt,
a red and blue tie, and gray shoes. He's also wearing glasses, and I am not. “You- you- you're that dude.”

  I realize that my imitation device is still activated. “No, I'm not this guy. Look.” I switch my look back to how it was at his apartment. Now he is even more surprised. “Who... are you?” He struggles to say. That was maybe not the best idea. “What is going on?” He starts talking louder. “Are you my long lost twin?”

  "All right, calm down." I look around for a less open area to converse. I spot a vacant game room on the left. "Let's go in there, and I'll explain everything," I offer, pointing. "All right. Okay." We walk into the game room. "You might want to sit down." He sits down on some a big table that looks like a miniature hockey rink. "I'm not from around here, and I'm not your twin. Well, not in the common sense of the word," I say. "Are you me from the future?" He asks. I stare at him for a moment. "Exactly how far in the future do you think I am from?" "I don't know, five, ten years."

  "What?" I ask. He laughs. "I'm just kidding. You're right. You don't look any older than me, but if you're not my twin then who or what are you? Are you a clone, or a robot?" "I thought that you guys didn't have clones and humanoid robots in your world," I reply. He stares at me again. "You're an alien aren't you-Sent here to take my place-You want to see how it is to live the life of a human? And what am I supposed to do while you wander the streets discovering humanity? Are you going to lock me in some sort of hibernation chamber?”

  “Okay, you need to stop talking. I need to get you out of here. There are some very bad people looking for you. I'm going to get you to a safe house where I will explain everything.” “Okay, so just because you look exactly like me, I'm supposed to trust you?” “Okay, listen, do you know what String Theory is?” He stares at me for a moment. I'm pretty sure he understands what I'm talking about but he also looks like he may be completely dumbfounded. He shakes his head and smiles.

  “You're me from another dimension?”

  “Yes.”

  “Huh.”

  “We need to go. I don't even know how much time we have.”

  "Are you supposed to be incognito right now? What's with the baseball cap? “Did you just google, cliché disguises?”

  “I don't understand what you are saying, and we need to go now.”

  "Why do you have my bracelet on," he says, eying the piece of jewelry. "I forgot to put it on this morning."

  "I don't actually have it on," I reply. "It's a hologram projection. Here's the real one." I pull it out of one of my belt pouches and hand it to him. He puts it on. "Listen, I'm working right now. I still have a few more hours on my shift."

  “You don't even want to stay the rest of your shift.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I don't know. It's like- I've been here before- like I've had this job.”

  “Have you ever worked at a movie theater?”

  “We don't have movie theaters in my world.”

  “Oh, wow. That's- depressing. Okay, so it feels like you've worked here?

  "Yeah. It's as if I remember my life and yours at the same time."

  “Huh. Sounds kind of like the Mandela Effect?”

  “The what now?” I ask.

  “The Mandela Effect. There are things that several people remember one way only to find out that they are wrong. For example, some people remember Nelson Mandela dying while being imprisoned in the eighties, but he actually died in December of 2013. People have seen this as another indication that there are alternate dimensions. One in particular that involved Nelson Mandela dying while in prison, but I'm guessing that's not what happened in your world.”

  "This theory is making a lot of sense right now. In my world, Nelson Mandela led a small rebellion against the Supreme Ministry." I tell him. "Carlisle and Fulloway were just too powerful. Our history tells us that they saw him as a huge threat, and eliminated him before he became too powerful. Why are you looking at me like that?" "I'm just getting this strange feeling like I remember learning about that. I was sitting at a desk listening to the teacher tell us about the rebels perishing at the hands of the Ministry. Then I looked out the window and saw some sort of police officer or security guard. A big guy. On his chest, there was a symbol... the head of a dragon, and on either side of his neck, were two spike symbols. He was just walking back to his motorcycle after eating, but for some reason, I felt like he was so cool. His uniform, his bike, I just thought-" We both say it. "That's what I want to be."

  I take a step back. That was an actual memory of when I saw Fetu as a commando. “Okay, we should probably stop telling each other stories before we forget which one of us is from which world,” he says. “I briefly look around the area. “Yeah, I don't see that happening, but now that you know who I am, can we go?” “I still don't understand who is after me,” he states. “I'll explain everything on the way to the safe house.”

  The safe house that RT leads us to is located in a gated community. He found a house whose occupants were currently on vacation. The house is enormous. I press a few buttons on my manica screen and a small device detaches. This is a hologram generator. I use it to create a key for the house. RT's invention. Of course, I helped him with it. This little device is slightly smaller than my thumb. We still can't get larger holograms that are solid like the key, but these smaller ones obviously come in handy.

  "So, if you're not from the future, how is your technology way more advanced than ours?" Real Jayden asks as the alarm system deactivates. "I don't know," I say as I open the front door and peer inside. "Maybe people are just smarter on my world." "Like being smart is a superpower?" he asks. "Yeah, the radiation emitted from Fortisium has been known to increase intelligence." "Right. But are you sure you're not from the future?" "I'm pretty sure," I reply. "What year is it here?" "2020," he replies as we step into the enormous house. "Yep, same year." As my double wanders around to look at everything, I begin to think that a smaller house may have been better.

  “So, I'm going to hang out here, while you go and save one of your super friends?” He asks as he tinkers with a small statue of Atlas holding the world on his shoulders. The statue sits atop a small table by the couch. The world falls off of the statue and he barely catches it in time. “Yes,” I say, cringing. “Try to be careful. Just stay in this area, and try not to eat too much food.” I say as I pull out my helmet. “How did you know I am hungry?” he says. “Just a hunch,” I reply as I put my helmet on. As I scan the grounds, I press the comm button. “Hey, RT. We made it to the safe house. I'm making sure everything is clear before I head out.”

  "All right," RT responds. "I'm just trying to get more information about this factory. Ask your twin if there has been anything out of the norm in his life lately," I ask him and his right eyebrow goes up. "Yes, aside from this," I say. "Okay, like what?" he replies. I pause for a moment. I press the comm button on my headset. "Yeah, RT. Like what?" "Like strange phone calls or e-mails. People asking you to participate in studies, anything out of the ordinary," I repeat the words as RT gives them to me. The language is a little confusing to me, but I assume my double understands.

  "No, I mean, there was that one e-mail from that sheik trying to get me to send him money so that I could marry his daughter and save his country... oh, and I'm always getting friend requests from attractive women that seem way too thirsty and have really bad issues with grammar. A lot of them are Russian too. In fact, I also have a lot of random Russians following me on Instagram." "Russians?" I pause for a moment, trying not to get distracted by the thought of Elena. I press the comm button. "RT, what do you think?" "I think that just sounds like a bunch of Real World crap. Is he sure there is nothing else?”

  So I ask him. Real Jayden thinks for a moment, "Wait. I was invited to participate in a sleep study. I got the e-mail like three days ago. It was from Somni Corp. It seemed kind of weird." "When is the study?" I ask. "Next Tuesday," Real Jayden replies. "That's it," RT confirms. "The address is the same as the factory wher
e they took Callum. I'm starting a search to see who else that e-mail has been sent to. I'm also going to trace it back to the source and see if I can get a layout of the building."

  "Sounds good. I'll be heading out soon." "All right, well, before you go, I need to see your fire powers in action," my double says. "I told you, they're not working right now." "Oh, come on. You're just in a funk. You can get through this. You have to believe." I pause for a moment, reliving a brief memory of his. "Okay just because some girl told you that, it doesn't mean you can go around saying it to others like it's a magic catchphrase." "How did you- She is not just some girl- you know what, I don't even think you ever had fire powers."

  I breathe out a small laugh. “All right.” I watch as he walks over to the kitchen and grabs a bottle of olive oil. He puts a pan on the stove, turns the unit on, and pours oil into the pan. He nearly empties the bottle. He grabs an oven mitt and a baking pan. He grabs a box of matches from the cupboard and lights one of them. He holds it a few inches above the pan on the stove. “What are you doing?” I ask as I step toward him. “You say you can absorb fire as well as create it, right?” “Don't do that.” He drops the match and backs away as I finish my sentence.