The Moon Base Mystery: Part 2
Or I tried to follow Ryan into the next room. The door slammed down and I jumped back to avoid getting squished. In my haste to avoid injury, I tripped over Azo’lah’s feet. She caught me under my arms as the overhead lights flickered out again.
“What the actual fuck is happening?” I blinked against the sudden glare of my clip light.
Instead of doing as I expected and righting me to my feet, Azo’lah leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “Fret not, ket’li. I will protect you.”
Electricity—from her voice or her powers, I didn’t know—jolted down my spine. I yelped and scrabbled against her hold. “Azo’lah! Azo’lah, let me go!”
She released me, reluctantly, as the lights wobbled feebly back to life.
I fought down my heated flush and straightened my shirt. Now was absolutely not the time for the emotions flurrying in my stomach. Azo’lah’s hand cupped my bicep. “Are you well, ket’li? Did the door closing on you cause injury in some capacity?”
I shook out of her grasp, unable to bear the heat of her palm through the thin cotton of my shirt. “No, no. I’m fine.” I looked into her wide, navy eyes. “It’s you I’m worried about. We just got separated from Ryan because this freaky, haunted-ass place keeps losing power, and you’re worried about me having minor injuries instead of—instead of what is going on! Not to mention you elected to separate yourself from Fleetwood!”
Azo’lah blinked slowly. “Captain Thorley is capable of caring for themself. I need not worry about them. And Fleetwood has Chester to watch over her. You are the one I worry about.”
“While I appreciate that,” I cleared my throat and tugged at my sweaty collar, “we’re a crew, friends, family. We all worry about each other. Also, you’re Fleetwood’s Myax so like, not leaving her is your job,” I babbled, looking anywhere than at Azo’lah’s face where that fucking fond expression had returned, “which, you know, usually you take very seriously...and seriously stop looking at me like that—”
I was saved by my Ran’dyl. “Captain Thorley to crew. Respond!”
“Oh, thank god. Here,” I answered. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Ryan replied crisply. “But I don’t think we all will be if we hang around much longer. This door won’t open, so we’ll have to meet up going the long way. You and Myax keep looking for Matt, and I’ll grab Chester and Fleetwood. We’ll meet up in the entrance chamber and get out of this demon shack before another one of us is possessed.”
I said, “No one is possessed!”
“Is Azo’lah still looking at you like both Destyrian suns shine out your ass?” they asked. When I didn’t respond, they said, “Then I’m not ruling out anything. Keep me looped in as long when the tech ghosts let us. Thorley out.”
I peered up at Azo’lah, whose attention had never wavered from my face the entire call, despite Ryan’s digs at her behavior. “So, what way do you think we should go to find Matt?”
“Whatever you want, ket’li.” Azo’lah grabbed my wrist and tugged me forward to the door that had forcefully rejected me moments prior.
“Azo’lah, I don’t think…” I trailed off as it slid up. Rude. I glared reproachfully at the doorway as we walked through it. “We need to get off this moon and fast.”
Azo’lah kept an arm around my shoulders as we cut through yet another all-white room. I wasn’t sure if the migraine mounting between my eyes was from the periodically flashing lights or my growing anxiety at Azo’lah’s strange behavior. Azo’lah whispered, “I will get you to safety, ket’li.”
There was that nickname again. Through our technopathic link, I sent her a text. Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting super weird.
Without looking at me, Azo’lah sent me reply, Why are you using the link when we’re in the same room alone? And you are the one behaving strangely!
We reached the door on the opposite side of the room, which opened to reveal... another identical room. Yippee. I pinched the bridge of my nose as my head throbbed. It was also a possibility the sameness of all of these rooms was slowly driving me insane, and the migraine was a side effect. I said, “This place is a maze, I don’t even know if we’ll—”
“Gret’chen! Azo-zo!” Fleetwood yelled as she leaped out of nowhere. Across the room, I spied another door; she must have rushed through it once she saw us. She wrangled us into a tight embrace. “Why is no one singing in the lane?” She pulled back and indicated her Ran’dyl.
“Fleetwood, what are you…” I trailed off, knowing it was futile asking her why she hadn’t stayed put. I spied Chester in the corner, scuffing his boots against the floor and staring at a hologram projecting from his Ran’dyl. I asked, “Are you okay?”
“I am well, dearest Gret’chen,” Fleetwood said, clinging to Azo’lah like a barnacle. “But I am afeared that Chester, my Chester, is unwell.”
“I’m fine,” Chester said tonelessly, attention glued to the hologram.
Fleetwood bit her lip as she said, “He has not allowed me to hug him since we were reunited.”
That, more than anything else, confirmed for me that something was wrong. As long as none of our lives were in immediate danger, there wasn’t a single thing that could keep Chester from comforting Fleetwood Mercury.
I crossed to Chester, reaching for his forehead. “Are you sick?”
He smacked my hand away. “No.”
“Did I do something to upset you?” Fleetwood asked. “You have always told me in the past when I—”
“Can everyone shut up so I can concentrate?” Chester spat.
Fleetwood recoiled as though she had been slapped. Sure, Chester sometimes got annoyed with us, but he never raised his voice in anger, least of all at Fleetwood.
I stepped protectively in front of Fleetwood. “This isn’t right.”
“My readouts are showing nothing of concern,” Chester replied, indicating a hologram projecting from his Ran’dyl. “Oxygen levels are a little below ideal but holding steady. I’m not picking up any purposeful poisons or accidental gas leaks. There are no exterior breaches.”
“Azo’lah,” Fleetwood stage-whispered as she smooshed Azo’lah’s cheeks with her hands. “Is there something wrong with you as there is something wrong with my beloved?”
Azo’lah removed Fleetwood’s hands. She then stepped behind and slightly off my right shoulder, the standard guard position for a Myax. Just guarding the entirely wrong person. Fleetwood looked equal parts crestfallen and bewildered. “Fulyiti, I am well. And if Chester says he is fine—”
“I am,” Chester said, his hands expanding a new lab readout mid-air.
“—then he is fine,” Azo’lah finished, placing a hand on my shoulder.
I met Fleetwood’s wide-eyed gaze and knew that she saw what I saw. Something was most assuredly remiss with Chester and Azo’lah. Oh God, what if Ryan was right and they were possessed?
“Chester,” I said, “have you found a blueprint of this place yet? Can you get us back to where we first met Kreshlin? Ryan’s working finding Matt, and we’re all meeting there.”
Chester did not bother responding with words, he merely nodded. His fingers were a blur against his wristband as he pulled up an enlarged 3D floor plan appeared before him. “Here.”
I studied the base’s layout, and it became clear that the monochromatic minimalism of each room wasn’t the only thing that would send me over the edge of sanity. We had incorrectly assumed that the interior layout would correspond with the circular exterior. Architecturally, it made no sense. The rooms and hallways were an illogical directional log-jam—some rooms only accessible through other rooms, and others accessible from multiple hallways. How was this still a functioning base?
Chester highlighted a route. “That’s the most direct path.”
“It appears simple enough,” Azo’lah pressed a firm hand into my spine, urging me to move. “I will take Gretchen directly there in case there is danger. You and the Fulyiti should assist Captain Thorley in their search for Matt.”
“Sounds good,” Chester said.
“What?” I sputtered. “You want us to separate? Again? No!” I dug in my heels.
“Come, ket’li. It makes the most sense,” Azo’lah countered with a sharp tug. “Whatever is happening in this place makes you uncomfortable. I will take you to our quarters on the ship while the others retrieve Matt.”
“Azo’lah! Stop,” I attempted to dislodge her grip. “Azo’lah, please, let me go.”
“Unhand Gret’chen,” Fleetwood commanded. She was straight-backed, and her eyes, usually full of whimsy, were narrowed. “Azo’lah, cousin, explain yourself.”
Azo’lah’s fingers unclenched from my arm as we reached the open door. “It is my duty to ensure Gretchen’s safety. I only wish to take her to a secure location.”
“But that isn’t what I want,” I argued, folding my arms across my chest. “I don’t want us to separate!”
Azo’lah frowned, her lips twitching as though prepared to push the argument. She sighed. “Then we shall all go. Fulyiti, Chester, join us.” She stepped through the next doorway and held out her hand for me. “Come, Gretchen.”
I looked at Fleetwood, who was staring at Chester like he was the universe’s most complex Rubix cube. “Beloved, are you prepared to go?” Fleetwood asked.
“Ah, no. You guys go without me,” Chester waved Fleetwood off. “I’ll go look for Matt and Ryan. Plus, there’s a lab in the north wing that I want to take some scans of before we take off.”
Fleetwood clutched at her heart. “You—want me to leave you?”
Azo’lah groaned. “Fulyiti, Gretchen, we do not have time to—”
She was cut off by the door closing in her face, separating her from us. The overhead lights pulsed. I slapped against the door, but the motion detectors did not pick up on the movement. The door stayed firmly shut.
I shouted into my Ran’dyl, “Azo’lah! Ryan! Matt! Anyone! Is anyone there?” But there was no response. Our comms were still being intermittently affected by these random power surges and outages.
The overhead lights stopped blinking. Thankfully, this time, they stayed on.
I waved my arms frantically in front of the door. But it remained firmly shut, keeping us separated from Azo’lah.
I dropped onto the floor into a pile of uncoordinated limbs. “I hate this place.”
Fleetwood collapsed half on top of me, her head landing on my stomach, her legs sprawling wildly. “This is bad news bears.”
“I know.” I turned my head to look at Chester, my cheek resting against the smooth, cold floor. I watched him as he fiddled with his Ran’dyl, still searching for the cause of its malfunctions. He had yet to ask either of us if we were okay—a very un-Chester-like thing to do. It was like our Chester had been body-snatched. I squeezed Fleetwood’s nearest shoulder as I said, “Whatever this is, we’ll get through it. I just wish I knew what it was.”
Was Ryan right, and it was demonic possession? Were we trapped in a time loop that messed with people’s personalities? Was Chester actually body-snatched? Maybe we should reach out to the witches of Huxor to see if there were any rogue magic users this side of the galaxy.
Fleetwood whispered, “What if...what if Chester is no longer my Chester?”
My heart ached at the waver in her voice. “Chester will always be your Chester,” I said. There were few things about life and the universe that I knew for certain since coming to space, but Chester and Fleetwood’s friendship, their soul-deep love for each other—I was certain about.
“Whatever is happening with Chester and Azo’lah, we’ll figure it out,” I promised. “Now come on.” I shifted into a seated position as Fleetwood popped to her feet. She helped me up. I said, “Let’s get out of this moon-station-hellscape and get some answers.”
We made it through three maddeningly indistinguishable rooms before Fleetwood said, “We’re dancing in circles.”
My directionality was so fried I couldn’t challenge her statement, but I was inclined to agree. “How do the Valik not go insane from all of these rooms being exactly the same?” I asked.
“There are slight variations in the rooms,” Chester replied. He pointed to the ceiling. “Roof slope, door placement, facility usage.”
I stopped dead in the middle of the room. “You know what these rooms are used for? They all look exactly the same. And there’s no equipment!”
“This was a mining site before it was a laboratory,” Chester said slowly as though explaining a simple mathematics problem to a kindergartener. “This facility was used for storage, shipping, and energy experiments before it was repurposed for research.”
I scrubbed at my sweaty forehead. My migraine had settled into a throbbing mass behind my eyes. “Energy experiments? What kind of experiments?”
Chester’s Ran’dyl projected a scrolling hologram of text in a language I couldn’t read. “The usual,” Chester said.
“Heat-seeking missiles would be dope,” Fleetwood said.
“No, they wouldn’t,” Chester replied, “unless you’re trying to blow us all up.”
I wilted at Chester’s response. Of us all, he always understood Fleetwood’s unique way of communicating. To my surprise, instead of displaying her hurt at Chester’s response, Fleetwood drew herself up to her full height and said, “They would search for the heat signatures of the crew, find them faster than we are.”
“Can you do that?” I asked, realizing what Fleetwood really meant. Why hadn’t any of us thought of that before? “Do what you did on Huxor with the necromancers and locate everyone with a thermal infrared scan!”
Chester shook his head. “I can’t. The construction of the building and atmospheric controls basically eradicate heat signatures.”
That sounded like a load of bullshit, but I was the team archaeologist, not an astrophysicist/mechanical engineer with two PhDs. Chester gestured forward. “Let’s keep going. They can’t have gotten too far. This station isn’t that large.”
Wasn’t that large? We had been wandering around this place for hours and had yet to find each other. I didn’t care what Chester’s schematic said, this place was gargantuan. Or possibly powered by ancient Destyrian tech, and it was moving without us realizing it. I shook my head at that disturbing thought. Azo’lah would have said something if she had sensed anything.
Before we reached it, the door flew open. Matt sprinted inside, the tread of his boots squeaking against the ivory floor. “Gretchen! Thank God, I found you.” He skidded to an abrupt halt before me, doubling over to catch his breath with his hands on his knees.
“Matty-Matt, what is wrong?” Fleetwood placed a hand on his neck. He flinched, backing away from her touch.
“Matt, what’s—” I cut myself off as Matt pulled me into a hug.
“We have to get out of here, Gretch,” he whispered in my ear. “Chester and Ryan have sold me out to the Covlax, bloody traitors. Fleetwood and Azo’lah are undoubtedly protecting them. They’ll sell you out too once the Vic gets here. We need to run!” Matt pulled back and, in a booming voice, said, “It’s so good to see you all. I was worried sick!”
He belatedly clapped a hand against Chester and Fleetwood’s shoulders, but the motion was stilted like he had to make himself do it. He widened his already frantic eyes and not-so-discreetly nodded to the door behind him, unsubtly telegraphing our escape route.
The longer we were here, the more I was seriously beginning to consider possession, demonic or otherwise, as an actual possibility. If Ryan was right, we’d never hear the end of it.
As though my thoughts had summoned them, our Captain came strolling into the room via the same door as Matt. Whereas Matt seemed wound tighter than Fleetwood’s space buns, Ryan appeared completely unfettered by our predicament.
“There’s my crew!” they greeted us brightly. They performed a silent headcount. “Well, most of my crew. Where’s Azo’lah?”
“Looking for you, oh, Captain, my Captain,” Fleetwood snapped Ryan a sharp salute.
They joined us at the center of the room. “No problem. I’ll comm her and get her here. Then, with all of us together, we can figure out what’s going on!”
Matt edged into my space, blocking me off from the rest of the group. Out of the side of his mouth, he murmured, “When I give the signal, run. I’ll be right behind you. If we can get to the ship, we’ll get a massive head start.”
“You want to maroon them on a strange moon?” I didn’t bother to keep my voice down. I had well and truly had enough of whatever the hell was going on. “Matt, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
Fleetwood reached for him, thought better of it, and placed her hands on her hips. “Matty-Matt, you are worrying me.”
Ryan turned to Matt. “Yeah, Majumdar, what’s the deal?”
All amiable pretense left Matt as he pushed me away from the group. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what you did!” he shouted, pointing an accusatory finger. “You’ve sold me out to the Covlax, I know it. You never wanted me a part of this crew in the first place! The way you’re all whispering behind my back! Always leaving me out and never appreciating all I do, flying your asses across the universe!” Matt waved his hands violently about as he continued to guide me toward the door at the back of the room. “But I’m onto you! You want to turn me in, get the reward from the Covlax, and hire out a new pilot!”
“Matt, no!” I grabbed at Matt’s shirt and tried to plant my feet. “We’d never!”
“But Matty-Matt, you’re our Matty-Matt,” Fleetwood said, voice slow and deliberate. “Why would we want a different Matty-Matt?”
Shockingly, Ryan chuckled. “This a great joke, man.” They held up their Ran’dyl and directed it at Matt. “You think you’d be willing to do that again for me while I’m recording? This would make a lit TikTok.”
I pushed down their arm. “We said no social media on missions.”
“Your logic isn’t particularly solid,” Chester said. “If we were going to turn you over to the Covlax, it would’ve been more prudent to do so when we were in the presence of Vic Mey-ran aboard J’olpri.”
“Not helping, Chester,” I bit out. I grabbed at Matt’s shoulders and shook him. “Matt! Stop pushing me out of the room! No one is betraying you to the Covlax!”
“Lies! All of it is lies!” Matt spun on me. His usually soft, understanding brown eyes were hard and indignant. He reached into his boot and produced a miniature gun.
“Have you been armed this whole time?” I asked. The overhead lights sputtered and then died. I groaned. “This? Again? Because shit wasn’t chaotic enough already.”
We stood in fraught silence in the sudden darkness, staring at each other in the glow of our blue clip lights. Things had gone from comically weird to dangerously nonsensical. We needed to figure out what was happening, and we needed to do it out now.
“Matt,” I started, only to be cut off by Ryan. Except, their mouth wasn’t moving. Ryan’s voice was coming from our Ran’dyls.
“This is Captain Thorley, calling for a sound off.”
My voice shook with disbelief as I stared at Ryan. “Ry-Ryan?”
The person before me looked as baffled as I felt. The Ryan on the other end of my Ran’dyl said, “Oh, thank God, Gretchen! Are you okay? Where are you? Where is everyone else?”
“We’re in the same room as you, Captain,” I said.
The Ryan in the room lunged for my Ran’dyl. “Turn it off, Gretchen! Don’t tell them anything else!” they commanded. “Whoever that is, that isn’t me!”
The overhead lights turned on. “Gretchen, tell me where you are—” Ryan’s voice from my Ran’dyl cut off as the device died again.
“Double trouble,” Fleetwood muttered darkly, her blue eyes appraising Ryan.
Matt gestured between my Ran’dyl and Ryan. “I knew it!” He flailed as he skittered away from us. “This is a conspiracy to make me think I’ve gone crazy! You’re all in on it!”
“Matt, calm down,” Ryan said, holding out a placating hand. “None of us know what’s going on, but it certainly isn’t a conspiracy against you. Someone is messing with us. We can’t all start turning on one another.”
What they said made sense, but something in the back of my mind itched with the wrongness of everything. Fleetwood grabbed my wrist and squeezed.
I was not alone in this. Even if everyone else was acting strange, Fleetwood, at least, had my back. We would figure this out.
“We need to find Azo’lah,” Fleetwood said.
Ryan nodded. “Agreed. And we need to do it while avoiding whoever,” they pointed at my Ran’dyl, “that is.”
Fleetwood said, “Lead on, Captain.”
“No, you take front,” Ryan corrected. “I’ll cover the rear. Chester, Gretchen, and Matt can take middle.”
Matt, in all of his obvious paranoia, argued this. “Absolutely not. If I even agree to come along, I want you all where I can see you!”
“Fine,” Ryan said, “as long as you agree to come with us, you can cover the rear.”
Matt studied us all for a long moment. “I’ll come along, but only to keep an eye on you lot. Can’t sneak up on me if I know where you all are.”
As we fell into line and exited the room in search of Azo’lah, I eyed my friends, and I couldn’t help but wonder who else this potential imposter could imitate.
It was very hard to ignore the prickling sensation at the nape of my neck. I desperately wanted to turn around and ask Matt what exactly was so interesting about my back. But I wasn’t even sure he was looking at it because I couldn’t see him. And, apparently, his paranoia was rubbing off on me.
“Activate internal comms,” I muttered under my breath. “Guys,” I began. Fleetwood glanced at me.
“Are you talking to yourself?” Chester asked. “It’s kind of distracting, do you have to?”
I blinked. Chester was suddenly very good at playing dumb, which no one would ever accuse him of, or his internal comms weren’t turned on, or worse, he had no memory of them. Or—
“That is not our Chester,” Fleetwood’s voice came from inside my head and softly to my left. We turned down a new corridor lined with doors on either side.
“That’s kind of harsh. I just got lost,” Chester said. But Chester's lips didn’t move. I was the only one that knew about Azo’lah’s technopathic powers, which means there was no way she had altered Chester’s implant. And as cool as our internal comms, a freak gift of technology fusion at the Temple of Aluthua, we still had to speak to use them. “Where are you, my beloved?” Fleetwood asked.
“Fleetwood, are you imitating the ventriloquist scene from Chicago?” Chester asked. It was deeply disconcerting to be looking at someone with their mouth shut but to hear their voice inside your head. “Because I’m with you, and your mouth isn’t moving.”
“That’s not me, Chester!” Fleetwood murmured, sounding more panicked than I’d ever heard her.
At the front of our group Ryan stopped and turned to us. “What’s up? Why are you guys whispering?”
“Just… uh, counting our steps like they do in dairy tales!” Fleetwood lied as the overhead lights went out once more. “Keeping track of distance will stop us from getting too lost!”
I bit the inside of my lip, hoping that Fleetwood’s Fleetwood-ness would be enough for everyone to buy that lie.
Ryan stared at us for a long moment, then shrugged. We continued on down the hall, following their blue-tinged silhouette.
“Gretchen?” Azo’lah’s voice was cautious as she joined our internal comms conversation. “Say something, Myaxi.”
My eyes tracked from Ryan to Chester, then darted for a moment to Matt behind me. A chill ran up my spine as I accepted the fact that these people I was with may not actually be the friends I arrived at this facility with earlier.
“I think the four of us need to split up from whoever we think we’re with. We need to find each other,” I murmured. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Fleetwood nod in agreement.
Azo’lah swore softly over the comms.
“It’s freaky, right?” Chester said, his voice a hollow echo in my skull. “Talking to you and not seeing your mouth move. What’re we thinking? Clones? Androids?”
My stomach jolted precipitously at both suggestions. I hadn’t eaten anything in hours and yet I felt like vomiting.
“I suppose that helps explain everyone’s behavior,” Azo’lah sighed. “Gretchen’s plan is a good one. Let us try to find each other through the use of these comms. Once we are together, we can figure out Matt and Ryan.”
“We can do it, me and you!” Fleetwood affirmed quietly. Then more loudly, suddenly alarmed, “What was that?”
I jumped, even though I didn’t rea,lly see anything in the darkness.
“What!” Matt cried.
“Nothing,” Fleetwood said, pressing a hand to her chest as if calming her racing heart. “I just thought I saw a shadow. It looked like one of Mey-ran’s guards but...why would they be here?”
Instantly, Matt pressed himself to the wall, drawing his tiny gun. “I knew this was a plot.”
Chester’s lookalike pushed his glasses up his nose, peering at the doorway that Fleetwood had indicated. “I didn’t see anything.”
“We’ll go check it out,” I said, cottoning on. Fleetwood drew the knife she had hidden in the inside pouch of her spacesuit. Together, we walked through the doorway into yet another dark, phantom-white hallway. I waved my hand as Ryan shouted at us to wait, but the door slammed down, separating us from the other three. I could hear Ryan shouting for us and slamming their fists against the metal, trying to follow us. Fleetwood stowed her knife.
She looked at me, her forehead pinched, navy eyes tight with concern. “I do not think I like this adventure,” she said. My eyebrows shot up. That was a hugely unexpected admission from Fleetwood.
“Come on, let’s go find Chester and Azo’lah.” I wrapped my hand around her wrist and tugged her down the hallway. The lights erupted into life. A second later, my translator implant sparked, sending a brief jolt of static through me.
Gretchen! You’re close to me, Azo’lah’s sent through our technopathic link. Our Ran’dyls erupted with Ryan’s voice demanding a crew-wide status update. Suddenly, the static feeling made sense. Azo’lah had been trying to track me by sensing her technopathic signature on my implant. Keep moving in the direction you are!
I followed Azo’lah’s instructions. Fleetwood and I entered the next room to find Azo’lah...and what the fuck—
A perfect copy of me screamed at the sight of us, tucking herself against Azo’lah’s side. My double clung to Azo’lah like a romance-cover maiden. And okay, it wasn’t the worst picture, but it was strange to see myself rendered dainty by Azo’lah’s height.
“Shocking and hard-hitting!” Fleetwood said, giggling inappropriately.
“This isn’t funny!” I protested. “I would never grope Azo’lah like this!” I gestured to where my double’s hand was sitting directly over Azo’lahs breast.
“Oh, my alien gods! Sorry!” My doppelganger squealed, removing her hand. She didn’t look that sorry to me. “Don’t hate me!” She buried her face in her palms, releasing a strangled puff of air that stirred her bangs.
Shit, I needed a haircut.
“This is hands down the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me,” I breathed.
Other Gretchen snapped her head up. “You think? It’s terrible looking at myself. Which one of us is even real?” She frowned deeply. “And god, why did no one tell me my face looks like that when I’m confused. I can never be visibly confused again!”
I ran a hand through my hair, mussing my ponytail further. “This has to be a dream, right?” I looked from Fleetwood to Azo’lah to my double. I felt my face mirror hers. “Wow, anxious isn’t a good look on me. Too bad that’s my default state of being. Shit.”
My double looked up at Azo’lah and asked, “So what are we going to do with this imposter?”
“I’m not the imposter! You’re the imposter!” I shouted automatically. Then after a moment, asked, “If I am the imposter, would I even know it?”
“Why can’t you tell us apart?” my double demanded, her voice teary with emotion. She moved, beseechingly to Fleetwood. “Fulyiti!”
Azo’lah’s eyes met mine as Fleetwood patted my double’s head consolingly, her mouth downturned. Clearly, both cousins were thinking the same thing I was...I never called Fleetwood by her royal title, unless we were attending official state functions or in front of visiting dignitaries. To me, she was, first and foremost, my friend Fleetwood and that’s what I called her.
Myaxi, the message flashed across my mind. Out loud, talk about Sebastian.
“I miss Bash-bash,” I said immediately, thinking of my fur son’s plush fur and comforting kitty purr. I really needed to stop going away so often.
Azo’lah lunged, grabbed my doppelganger’s wrist, and twisted, spinning my double into her. Azo’lah pinned one of my double’s arms behind her, the other at her side. She struggled fruitlessly against Azo’lah’s strength.
“I’m mildly confident I could now escape that hold,” I said dumbly. Milyna’s training had focused heavily on escaping and incapacitating opponents larger and stronger than me. Azo’lah smiled at me, strained but genuine.
Fifteen minutes later, I still wasn’t used to staring at my own face as my doppelganger stared back. Azo’lah had used the emergency flexi-rope she kept in her spacesuit pocket and tied my double to a too-small chair plundered from a control room across the hallway. I leaned in a little too close to study the bridge of my double’s nose. Were the Destyrian suns giving me more freckles?
At my encroaching on her space, my doppelganger screamed directly in my face. I immediately returned the favor, bellowing right back. I scuttled away, directly into Azo’lah. She pulled me to the most distant corner of the room.
Over our internal comms, Fleetwood’s voice asked, “Is everything well? I heard all the Gret’chen's shouts of distress!”
Upon neutralizing my double and hearing our story, Azo’lah had retraced our steps and rounded up who I was now calling Paranoid-Matt, Probably-Not-Chester, and Possibly-Ryan. Azo’lah assigned Fleetwood to look after them in an adjacent room while she and I spoke with my double. We had agreed it was best to keep an eye on these three potential imposters instead of letting them wander off and causing further confusion.
“Everything is fine, Fleetwood,” Azo’la replied. “We will tell you more after we have obtained answers from The Other.”
The Other was what Azo’lah had dubbed my double upon discovering she was not me. I wasn’t a huge fan of the name, but it was easier than calling her Not-Gret’chen, as Fleetwood had suggested.
The Other thrashed in her seat, her eyes turned pleadingly to Azo’lah. “Azo’lah, what’s happening? Why am I tied to this chair? Help me.”
Azo’lah approached her slowly. “Only you can help yourself by telling us who you truly are.”
“I’m Gretchen,” The Other's face contorted with bafflement, once again reminding me why I avoided mirrors most of the time.
“No, you are not,” Azo’lah replied. “We already checked you and know you are not wearing a perception distorter to make you appear this way. How do you have Gretchen’s face?”
“Because it’s my face!” The Other said. “Azo’lah, do you hear yourself? This is batshit.”
Well, she wasn’t wrong there.
“Enough,” Azo’lah grunted. She began pacing a wide circle around The Other. “Tell us who you are and what you want.”
“You know who I am and what I want!”
“Are you a spy? Who hired you? Were you sent to infiltrate the Royal House of Fuiq? To assassinate Fulyiti Fleetwood or her mother?”
The Other strained against the flexi-rope. “I would never hurt Fleetwood. Why are you doing this, Azo’lah? You know I’m me, and she’s the one,” The Other jutted her chin sharply at me, “who isn’t supposed to be here.”
Azo’lah rounded the back of her chair. “Stop with these lies. Myaxi has proven her own identity.”
“How?” The Other craned her neck, trying to catch Azo’lah’s eye. “How has she tricked you? Ket’li, how can I make you realize your mistake?”
Azo’lah stilled. “What did you call me?”
The Other chuckled low and intimate. “Ket’li, don’t be like that. Untie me, and we can deal with this interloper. Maybe save the flexi-rope for later, though.” The Other winked at Azo’lah, and I burned with embarrassment.
To my surprise, Azo’lah took a step away from The Other and cleared her throat. She tightened her ponytail and flexed her fingers as though she were out of her depth.
Had my double’s borderline sexual harassment actually thrown Azo’lah off her game? I’d have to apologize for my doppelganger’s behavior later.
“Listen,” I sighed, scrubbing at my eyes tiredly. “I just want to get my friends—my actual friends, and not people wearing their faces and acting weird as hell—get off this moon, and go home to snuggle my cat. Could you work with me on making that happen?”
“Your friends? They’re my friends, not yours! I’m the real Gretchen!” The Other cried.
“See, that right there,” I pointed at her, “that confidence is not me. I am me, but looking at you, even makes me not sure I’m me. You feel me?”
The Other shook her head. “Not even a little bit.”
I waved her off. At least she was as sassy as I was. I rested my hands on my hips and asked, “Can you at least tell us what makes you so sure you’re the real Gretchen?”
“What makes you so sure you’re the real Gretchen?” she returned. She turned her eyes to Azo’lah. “Ket’li, please put a stop to this nonsense.”
“I know I’m the real Gretchen because I have never called Azo’lah ket’li in my entire life!” I said.
The Other frowned, her forehead marred with lines. “But that’s what people in a relationship like ours call each other on Destyr!”
I looked to Azo’lah. “Friends call each other ket’li regularly?”
Azo’lah glared at The Other. “No, they do not. It is a name exchanged between lovers.”
I made a noise like a cat trapped in a poorly tuned tuba. “Lov-lovers?” Mortification poured off me as I whirled on The Other. “Azo’lah and I are not lovers.”
“Yes, we are,” The Other said, easy as breathing. The burning embarrassment swept down my neck and across my chest in leaping bursts. The Other gazed between me and Azo’lah and our matching looks of bewilderment. The Other’s eyes widened with confusion as she murmured, “But he said…”
“Who is he?” Azo’lah demanded.
“No one,” The Other squeaked as Azo’lah dropped down into a crouch to look her in the eye.
“No more lies,” Azo’lah said, her voice gentle but unyielding. “Tell us everything.”
The Other’s gaze danced from Azo’lah to me and back again. She looked to the door and toyed with the ropes binding her. I watched her resolve break incrementally as she realized she had no means of escape. “I’m not… sure of everything.”
“Then tell us what you know,” Azo’lah prompted.
“I remember a dark hallway and purple light. It was hot, I was with Chester, and we were sweating like—”
“Like a sinner in church?” I finished for her, deja vu crashing over me. Chester and I following Kreshlin to the fake artifact room, my tingling hands, the near claustrophobia of it all.
“Yes!” The Other leaned toward me like an adventurer lost in the desert straining for an oasis. “We reached the end of the hall and were both feeling dazed. Confused. Couldn’t even remember our own names. There was this little alien there. He called himself Kreshlin and told us we were Gretchen and Chester.” The Other squinted for a long moment. “Told us about ourselves. Then he showed us a video about us and our lives. It brought back all my memories.”
After a long moment of silence, Azo’lah asked, “Do you remember what happened before you and Chester were walking in that dark hall? How we arrived on this moon?”
The Other said, “Didn’t we come from J’olpri?”
“That was… that was months ago,” I said.
The Other gaped at us, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “But that’s the last thing I remember before being here.”
My heart fractured for her. She had been running around all day pretending to be me, putting my friends and me in real danger. But it didn’t seem as though she knew what she was doing. In fact, she seemed to genuinely believe she was the real me.
“Do you remember anything that isn’t based on what Kreshlin said or the movie showed you?” I asked gently.
Another long silence. “I don’t think so,” she whispered.
Azo’lah stood and spun to me. She led me to the farthest corner away from The Other. She did not look at me, instead staring at my shoulder as she said in a hurried, hushed tone, “Fleetwood and I were taken down the same hallway. With the purple lights, the heat, the tingling hands.”
“I don’t think it was a hallway,” I said.
“It wasn’t. If my assumptions are correct, it was a device meant to create a direct facsimile of our DNA,” Azo’lah said. She strode across the hallway to the abandoned control room, keeping The Other in sight.
“A direct facsimile of our DNA,” I repeated, the words not computing. My brain felt like a car engine that wouldn’t turn over. “Cloning. You’re talking about cloning.”
Azo’lah touched the dormant computer terminal. It illuminated with an audible crackle. Azo’lah activated a translation program for written language on her Ran’dyl. Above the device, a glimmering final report from the station composed itself. Apparently, during the last thirty years Valik had successfully created cloning technology. Due to the physical danger of the process and the boundless ethical quandaries it posed, something called the Galactic Charter had shut them down. Shut them down hard. They forced the scientists to destroy their equipment and their research.
Except, apparently they missed one of the machines.
“Holy shit,” I breathed. “This was a cloning lab.” I turned to The Other and met her eyes. “We’ve been cloned.”