From the moment I wake up, I can feel the technology around me. The sense is present whenever I’m awake, always in the back of my mind. As far as I can tell, there’s no way for me to shut it out. Like with hearing, it seems like the best I can do is ignore it. This was trickier than usual, what with the several electronic devices hidden beneath my bed. The best word that I can think of to describe the sensation is ‘Loud’. Not overwhelming, like when I had walked through the electronics store yesterday, but still strong enough to be annoying. In the end, the constant distraction that it provided served to prevent me from enjoying my sleep-in.
Through perseverance, however, I didn’t allow it to cut my snooze short. I finally pulled myself out of bed at around nine thirty, when the sun was in just the right place to hit my face through the small gap in the curtains. Groaning, I began the usual morning process of waking myself up. After putting on a fresh set of clothes, I moved over to my window and pulled the curtains wide open.
I was forced to squint due to the sudden intense glare of the sunlight. It was already clear that today will be a lovely day, at least in terms of the weather. Shame I’d be spending it all indoors.
Lastly, I grabbed a clean towel and headed out the door, intent on using my morning shower to combat my current lethargy. I was wiping the last of the sleep from my eyes as I reached for the bathroom door handle, when the door opened abruptly. I pulled my back in surprise, barely avoiding a stubbed toe, to see an equally startled Tom looking back at me.
I must have given him quite a fright, because he stared at me for more than a moment. Snapping out of it, he blinked a couple of times and opened his mouth slightly.
“…Oh.”
Without another word, Tom slid past me and hurried down the hallway towards his room, shutting the door behind him.
I found myself shaking my head as I entered the bathroom and got ready for my shower. Just what the hell had that been about? Tom must have drunk a lot last night if he was that hung over. He was usually much more aware of his limits.
I turned the shower on to hot and waited for the water to heat up. I climbed in and exhaled as the soothing liquid poured over my neck and torso. As I began to scrub my skin, I found my mind drifting to some of the unanswered questions that I had asked myself over the past week.
Specifically, I wondered about the future. About what I would do with my newfound gift. There was no question that I would try to use my ability to improve the lives of those around me, to make the world a better place, but the question of the week was how? If you asked me as a child what I would do if I ever got superpowers, the answer would be ‘fight crime, of course!’. Now that I was older and less naive, I realized that that wouldn’t work.
First off, it wasn’t like criminals were just walking around in black and white stripes, like in cartoons. Tracking down individual lawbreakers would be a hassle. Maybe I could try tracking people down by their digital footprint, revealing their crimes through their private texts and emails. A little morally shady, sure, but I was going to be a superhero, a vigilante. There would be no way for me to operate effectively without breaking a few rules along the way.
But this brings up a second problem. I’m no lawyer, but I’m pretty sure that there isn’t any legal precedent for criminals caught by superheroes. There was no way I could testify, and any evidence I could provide would have been collected using illegal means, and would be inadmissible in court. Anyone that I ‘catch’ would, without a doubt, walk free.
No, it was clear that crime-fighting would be an extremely inefficient use of my new ability. A waste of time, even. I needed a different cause to focus on; one that would allow me to actually make a difference in the world. For the past week, I’d been trying to decide what that cause might be.
And I’d thought of a lot of them. Exposing white collar crimes and corruption, stabilizing war zones, even just sending pieces of my technology to various research groups. The problem was that any idea that I came up with was either too little effort or too much. I couldn’t settle for just sending device after device to researchers and engineers, while I lived an otherwise mundane life, but neither was I particularly enthusiastic about traveling to some of the worst places the world has to offer.
It was becoming increasingly clear to me that staying at home was not going to work if I intended to cause any real change. I wasn’t looking forward to it, but I knew that this was something that I couldn’t put off forever. At the very least, it could pay to prepare myself for the possibility that I may soon have to strike out on my own.
Still, none of that would be happening until I have a much better understanding of my power and its limitations. With the limited tests I had done so far, I had already developed a few theories. First, devices that I had manipulated extensively tended to be unstable, and would decay over time. The rate of decay seemed to increase rapidly with how far I had ‘pushed’ them beyond their original form.
‘Lateral’ transformations, ones that did not increase a device’s technological complexity, did not seem to have this effect. On the other hand, forcing a device to become far more advanced than its original form seemed to cause it to slowly lose function. I had learned this the hard way when I had left what had become of my watch at home during school yesterday. When I returned, I had found the small spider-bot to be unresponsive.
At first glance, the device appeared to be fine, but a deeper scan revealed that the underlying technology had been completely scrambled. Despite my best attempts to revive the machine, I was forced to accept that it was well and truly dead.
Once I knew about this constant decay, I began to notice it in my other experiments. It was at this point that I realized why my watch had only broken when I had left it alone for a few hours. Without even noticing, I had been constantly providing the minor tweaks and edits required to keep my creations operating. Even in my sleep, I must have been subconsciously using my power to fix and repair the machines around me.
Thursday had been the first time since gaining my ability that I had been away from any of my creations for an extended period of time. It had resulted in me losing one of my only electronic devices, as well as learning a very important lesson.
This also provided an explanation as to why I could only push my machines so far. For days, I had pushed against an apparent boundary. Any attempts to force a machine beyond a certain point had only been met with failure. I had worried that I was pushing up against some absolute limit of my power, beyond which I would never get past.
The alternative was far more attractive. If my ‘repair aura’ could only work so fast, and the decay rate was dependent on how far I had pushed a device beyond its initial state, then my repair rate could easily become the bottleneck for increasing the complexity of my creations. Essentially, the machines could get to a point where they would decay as quickly as I could repair them. If that is the case, then it is likely that my ability is limited only by the complexity of the initial state of the machine that I use it on.
And that’s why I really want to get my hands on some experimental, state-of-the-art electronics. If I’m right, I should be able to create machines far beyond anything I have currently produced.
It was at that moment when I noticed that I had already cleaned myself thoroughly, and was beginning to wash some areas for the second time. Having already spent too much time in the shower, I turned off the water and began to dry myself.
I left the bathroom a couple of minutes later, dressed and with a damp head of hair. When I went to the kitchen to get some breakfast, I found Tom sitting at the table. He had a bowl of cereal in front of him, but it had gotten soggy as he stared at something out the window.
Only when I grabbed my own bowl of cereal and sat opposite him did he get startled out of his daydream. For a second he stared at me, I stared back. He was acting really weird this morning.
“You alright?” I ask, concerned. After a moment, he averted his eyes.
“Sorry” he mumbled, before making an attempt at eating his soggy cornflakes.
“Hey,” I interrupted, trying to draw his attention, “I’m serious. You okay? You look a little out of it.”
He shrugged without looking up. “Got more drunk than I intended to,” he explained between mouthfuls, “Still a little hung over.”
I snorted. “Of course you did,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Didn’t hear you come in last night. I thought you were gonna leave early?”
My not-so-subtle reminder of my previous agreement to explain the ‘superpowers’ situation was apparently lost on my brother, who gave another shrug.
“I must have gotten carried away” He reasoned between mouthfuls.
Ah well. It wasn’t like I was going to spill the beans right now, anyway. Not with Mom probably still nearby. Tom and I ate the rest of our breakfast without another word.
I had just started cleaning up when Mom entered the kitchen. She wore a set of old clothes and was in the middle of removing a pair of dirty gloves. I could see the sweat on her forehead from this morning’s labor.
“Morning boys!” she greeted us cheerfully, before making straight for the tap for a glass of water.
Our mom, Anna Harwin, is a very cheerful and active woman. She always has some project or activity that she’s excited about, and just about everyone that knows her finds her positivity infectious. She’s fairly short though, so I’m glad that Tom and I didn’t take after her in that department. Unfortunately, we also didn’t inherit her disposition towards mornings.
“Good to see you’re finally up,” she teased after emptying her glass, “It’s a beautiful day outside, by the way. You two boys should definitely get some sun today, especially you Sean,” yay, “Now that you’re on the mend, I don’t want you spending all day stuck in your room on that computer of your’s.”
I try not to seem too annoyed by the idea, though it would hardly seem that out of character for me to do so. I had intended to spend the day continuing my research into my power, but it seems that that is going to have to be put on hold for now. The bright side is that this shouldn’t set me back too far. A couple of hours out and about should be enough to keep Mom happy, and after that I can get right back to my work.
“Alright,” I concede, “I’ll head down to the library in a bit. I’ve got a lot of catch-up to do for school,”
Mom accepted this, and directed her attention to Tom, who had again lost focus and was gazing off into space.
“You alright there, sweety? You look a little under the weather.”
“ Yeah, I’m…” Tom started awkwardly, but continued with a reassuring smile,, “I’ll be fine. I think I may be coming down with that bug Sean had.”
That caught my attention. Tom knew that the ‘bug’ story was bullshit, so why was he using it now? I doubt that he was just trying to cover up his hangover. Mom was remarkably liberal when it came to these sorts of things. Hell, we could probably try marijuana and she wouldn’t be upset.
Either Tom was so hungover that he didn’t realize that Mom wouldn’t care, or he was hiding something else. The first option seemed unlikely, but the second didn’t make much sense either. What on Earth could he hiding that required Mom to think he was sick? In my case, I had needed an excuse to stay home from school while I sorted out my recent developments. Did Tom need the same? I’d have to ask him about it later.
Regardless of my brother’s intentions, his plan seemed to have the same disadvantage that mine had: invoking the attention of an overprotective mother.
“Mom, really, I’m fine,” Tom insisted, “I need to go out for a bit anyway. I think I left some stuff at that party last night, so I better go pick it up…. Yes, I promise to not take too long. It’s not even that big of a deal…”
Nice try Tom, but you reap what you sow. Honestly, after seeing how Mom had been treating me these past few days, you really should have known better.
By this point, I had accepted that I wouldn’t be getting answers regarding Tom’s suspicious behavior just yet, so I decided to leave the two as they were. As it stood, the sooner I got my requisite daily sunlight, the sooner I could get back on track with my other plans.
I made a quick detour to my room before quickly throwing a few books from school into my bag and tucking my more unstable creations into one of the outer pockets. The last thing I want is to risk them to decaying in my absence. The proximity will mean that my power can keep them from degrading.
Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I head back out the door. Time for a trip to the library.
Twenty minutes later and I was near the town center, roughly halfway there, and my thoughts were still occupied with concern for my brother. Agh! This was driving me crazy! My mind was stuck in this unending loop, jumping back and forth from ‘but what if…’ and ‘…no, that’s ridiculous’.
Why was I even making such a big deal over this! Is it that I was projecting? In order to cope with the magnitude of my own secret, I assume that someone else has one equally serious? I have been way more on edge than usual. Had this happened at any other time, I probably wouldn’t have given it much thought.
After repeating this argument over and over in my mind for a couple of minutes, I finally manage to convince myself that this is, in fact, all in my head, and that there is nothing to be worried about. Now, hopefully, I could start focusing on my own problems, instead of spending all my time concerned over-
“Tom!” a male voice cried out, startling me from my thoughts. The voice came from across the street, and I saw teenager about my age, waving and jogging towards me. He had short dirty-blond hair and a large nose. More importantly, he didn’t look like anyone I recognized.
“Tom!” he repeated after catching up to me, “My man! Didn’t expect to bump into you soon after last night. Oh man, you’re gonna regret leaving early. You know Emma and Megan? They kissed. Like, tongue and everything! You should have seen it!”
His words were punctuated by various gestures and arm movements, hinting at his excitement. Realizing that now was my turn to speak, I opened my mouth to reply.
“Huh?”
I never said that I was particularly good a conversation, did I? And come on, I was put on spot suddenly. That just wasn’t fair.
The young man seemed disappointed by my reaction.
“C’mon man,” He insisted “It’s me, Daniel! We talked at last night’s party, remember?”
“Ah, sorry,” I mumbled, my words finally catching up to me, “I’m Sean. Tom is my twin.”
When I was younger, it used to really bother me when people would mistake me for my brother. I learned eventually that getting annoyed every time someone made that mistake was just too much effort.
“Oh shit, sorry, man,” Daniel apologized, “Didn’t even know he had a twin. This sort of thing must happen to you all the time, huh?”
I had almost missed it, but something he had said earlier stood out to me as strange.
“Uh, yeah, a bit. Hey, you said before that Tom left the party early? Do you know when? Or why?”
I may have come across as a bit too full on, because the teenager suddenly seemed reluctant to tell me more.
“Hey, look,” he said to me, looking fairly uncomfortable, “if Tom’s in trouble or anything, I don’t want to get involved or take sides, or whatever.”
“He’s not in trouble,” I assure him. That I know of, anyway. “I already know about the drinking, and I don’t really care about that,” Daniel relaxed noticeably, “I’m just trying to figure out if Tom is sick or hungover, ‘cause from the way he was this morning it’s probably one of the two.”
Daniel seemed to consider this for a moment.
“Oh, okay,” he acknowledged. He scratched his chin and held a look of concentration on his face. “Uh, I think he left around nine or ten. He seemed pretty sober when I last saw him.” Daniel paused to think for a bit. “I don’t think he left because he was sick, either. He said he had a thing that he had promised to do, or something. Maybe he got drunk somewhere else?”
I barely notice that he had prompted me with a question.
“Yeah, maybe,” I reply, “I’ll have to ask him about it later. So, uh, yeah, I should probably get going now, but it was good talking to you. I’ll tell Tom you said hi.”
“Yeah man, nice to meet you too,” he echoed, before giving a small wave and turning back the way he came.
Even before Daniel had finished crossing the street, I started thinking about what he had said. Tom had left early, and sober at that. Daniel had thought that Tom might have gone somewhere else to get drunk, but he had also said that Tom left because he ‘promised something’. I was almost certain that he was referring to coming home and talking to me. If that was the case, then something must have happened between the party and arriving home. Something that prevented him from returning home for hours.
It had only been a couple of minutes ago that I had finally convinced myself that there was nothing to be concerned about, but now I had found myself right back to where I had started. Given the situation, and how I knew it would control me for the hours to come, only one response seemed appropriate.
“God fucking dammit!”
Several times now, Tom had walked himself through his scattered memories of the night before, and each time it had led to the same spot. He was standing in the local park, near one of the entrances and the corner of the local football field. The field itself occupied most of the park’s area. A couple of children played on a nearby playground, situated just beyond the far end of the field.
For the last ten minutes, Tom had been getting increasingly frustrated. When he had woken up this morning, he had found himself faced with a glaring gap in his memory; a large section of his walk home from the party had been seemingly wiped clean from his mind. Through persistence, he had managed to isolate some of the facts from last night. He knew that he had left the party at around nine thirty, only to arrive home at two in the morning, he knew that he had planned to head straight home to talk to Sean, and he knew that his memories came to a stop right here, at the entrance of this park.
But now Tom found himself against a brick wall. No matter how hard he concentrated, he could not seem to uncover any more details of what happened here. No doubt he had chosen to pass through here as a shortcut on the way home, but no amount of reasoning would actually help him to remember.
Think, think, THINK.
No new information revealed itself.
“Agh!” Tom yelled as he kicked the ground in an uncharacteristic display of anger. He sighed and rubbed his forehead, attempting to prevent his annoyance from getting the better of him. Maybe he had been going about this the wrong way. Since he had gotten here, he had been putting himself in the same position as he was in last night, with the hope of jogging some lost memory. This clearly wasn’t working, so he would have to try something else.
Maybe if he tried to work out the events of last night directly, without relying on faulty memories, he would have more success. Slowly, his eyes scanned the area once more. Trees and other vegetation border the path leading into the park, which widens in the direction approaching the football field. The ground here is supposed to be covered in grass, but recent heavy rain has made it muddy and susceptible to damage from pedestrians.
Tom had hoped that he might be able to identify his own footprints in the dirt, but had no success. Too many people had passed through here to identify individual tracks. Moving on, he walked over to a particularly muddy patch and knelt down next to it. A couple feet in size, it was like a scar in the ground.
Absentmindedly, he traced the outline of the mud patch with his finger. Could this be connected to whatever had happened last night?
A glint in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Partially hidden in the grass, within arms reach, was a small metal object. While initially unfamiliar to the teenager, Tom immediately recognized the tool upon picking it up; it was his switchblade, with the blade still out. He carried that thing almost everywhere. Damn, I hadn’t even realized I’d lost this. How the hell did it get here?
Tom winced as he felt the sharp onset of a headache. Pain… he remembered pain. There had been someone? Something? Dammit, so close. Already the memory had drifted away from him. He couldn’t even be sure that that hadn’t just been his mind playing tricks on him.
Shaking himself from his thoughts, his attention was brought to the ground before him. In the bare damp earth he had scratched a small figure, a hexagon, without even noticing. He stared at it for a moment, as if it was supposed to mean something to him. Giving up, he returned to his full height and looked over his surroundings once more. There didn’t seem to be any evidence in sight regarding his missing time, but what about out of sight?
Tom’s eyes settled on the nearby treeline. Dense vegetation obstructed his line of sight. I should have a quick look around, see if I can find anything.
A moment passed, but his legs did not move.
I really should go have a look. There could be something important, he reasoned.
But, still, Tom’s legs did not move. His pulse quickened, and he felt his muscles tense in apprehension. He gripped his knife tighter and brought it slightly forward.
What are you? Scared? It’s just a few bushes! In the middle of the goddamn day!
A slight breeze tickled the back of his neck, and he felt the chill run down his spine as his hairs stood on end.
What the fuck is going on? Go and check in the bushes. Go!
Finally, his commands received a reply. Through great effort and will, Tom overcame his fear and took a single step forward, only to have the floodgates break and be faced with an unstoppable tide of terror. Mind breaking, soul crushing, bone chilling fear. Tom didn’t know or understand anything about the situation he was in, other than the fact that right now he needed to be anywhere but here.
This time there was no delay as his legs snapped into action, carrying him away with impressive speed. As he passed the end of the park, his legs failed to keep up with his desperate pace, sending him sprawling over the grass. The children playing in the adjacent playground gave him confused stares as he scrambled to his feet and continued to flee from the unknown danger.
Sneakers hit concrete at a steady beat for the duration of Tom’s sprint home. At no point did he stop or slow his pace. The force with which he held his knife turned his knuckles white. He payed no heed to those he passed, nor their looks of concern or confusion. Only one goal was etched into his mind.
Get. Home.
Tom made his way through the paved suburban grid that made up his neighborhood. Had he not lived in the area his entire life, the stress of unadulterated panic on his mind might have affected his sense of direction. He felt a flash of relief when he finally laid his eyes upon his family’s home, but only for a moment. The fear returned, as strong as ever, driving Tom to continue his mad retreat.
As he approached, he could see that there was no car parked in the driveway, which meant that Mom had already left on some errands. As he slammed the front door behind him, Tom couldn’t decide whether he found this to be preferable.
Regardless, he pushed onward. The hallway felt oddly claustrophobic as he hurried along the familiar path towards his room. In a swift motion, Tom shoved his door open and slammed it shut behind him. For a moment, he simply stood there with his back pressed against the door, trying to calm his frantic breathing.
What the hell is going on!?
In his entire life, nothing that Tom had ever experienced even came close to indescribable fear that he had felt. And over what? The idea of rummaging around a few bushes? This didn’t make any sense! Now, in the familiar space of his own room, he was confronted with an uncomfortable question: What the fuck do I do now? Almost universally, the bedroom is supposed to be considered a space of sanctuary and security, but right now all it meant to Tom was that there was nowhere to run.
After a few moments, Tom’s attention was drawn to his hands. Slowly, he pulled them up in front of him. They were shaking, violently, and once again his body refused to obey his commands. His knife was still gripped tightly in his right. He had forgotten about that. Eventually his frustration at his lack of control became too much to bare, and it further compounded the problem.
In a panicked, jerky motion, he threw the knife across the room. Bringing his trembling hands up to cradle limply against the sides of head, he slid down against the door behind him and into a sitting position. The lump in his throat grew as tears welled in his eyes. Tom felt the weight of the world crushing down on him. His tears began to overflow, leaving wet trails down his cheeks. His dull sobs filled the room around him with increasing volume, each punctuated by his shallow, irregular breaths.
In an act of aggression, Tom smacked a partially closed hand against the side of his head. Again and again, he struck his skull with growing force; a desperate but futile attempt to remove this cancer from his mind. When this failed, his violence only increased. Between his pained whimpers, Tom repeatedly smashed the back of his head against the door behind him.
But nothing could be done. No one could help him. At this moment, lying on the floor, Tom was nothing more than broken wreck.
Left bare of any control over his own mind, the endless despair consumed him.
I finished up at the library around noon. To be honest, I should have stayed a lot longer, but I had other concerns on my mind. My intention had been to catch up on all the homework I missed, but It had been difficult to focus given what I had learned regarding my brother. At this point I had become convinced that he was hiding something from me, but no amount of speculation seemed to reveal any likely possibilities as to what that something might be.
I had convinced myself, perhaps irrationally, that whatever Tom had been hiding from me was very serious. Maybe not as serious as my own secret, but still potentially dangerous.
I realize how paranoid I must sound, but this is my brother we’re talking about. You can’t blame me for being at least a little concerned.
My walk was uneventful, and I arrived home without incident. Mom must’ve gone out, ‘cause her car wasn’t in the driveway. I was grateful for this, because it would give me a chance to talk to Tom in privacy. Assuming he was even home, of course.
I slipped inside the front door and shut it behind me. I made my way through the house towards Tom’s room, just down the hall from my own. The door was closed, leaving no indication that he was actually home. After a moment’s hesitation, I knocked twice.
“Tom?” I asked cautiously, but no response came forth. I was beginning to think that he might not be in yet, but, as I was about to leave, I noticed something beyond the precipice of his bedroom. At the limit of my power’s range, I could barely make out the form of my brother’s phone, right on top of where his bed would be. Re-encouraged, I try again. “Tom,” I state, more firmly this time, “I know you’re in there. I need to talk.”
A couple of seconds passed without response, before I sensed the sudden motion of my brother’s cellphone, which was followed by the thud of footsteps approaching the door. The door opened quickly to reveal a very fatigued-looking Tom. The bloodshot eyes were the first things I noticed, followed quickly by his messy hair and red-raw nose.
“Whoa,” I muttered tactlessly, “You look like… well, crap.”
“Gee, thanks,” he replied sardonically, “I’m, uh, coming down with something.”
Now, I can understand pulling that trick on Mom; I would be a hypocrite not to. But to try that on me? Really?
“Don’t give me that shit,” I grumbled, now somewhat annoyed, “You and I both know that story was never true. You were the one who called me out on it. Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?”
Tom rolled his eyes and looked away.
“There is nothing ‘going on’,” he asserted, before facing me again. He was visibly annoyed now. “I got more drunk than I intended to at that party last night, and didn’t get home ‘til late. I don’t know what ideas you’ve gotten into your head, but, if you were hoping for more than that, you’ll be disappointed.”
Dammit Tom! I want to help you here. Why can’t you just let me?
“That’s not true either, though, is it?” I counter. “From what I’ve heard, you left, sober, at around nine or ten”. A flash of emotion covers his face for a millisecond. Fear, maybe? Fear that he’d been found out? “But I know that you didn’t arrive home before twelve, and now you’ve been acting weird ever since.”
Tom’s expression changed to one of anger.
“And you felt that that could only mean that something was horribly wrong?” he argued, “I can take care of myself, you know. I don’t need you to get involved every time something mildly unexpected happens.”
Intent on leaving the conversation there, he started to turn away. Thinking quickly, I reached through the doorway and tapped him lightly on the hip with the back of my hand. A small arc flashed at the point of contact. He turned back to me and begrudgingly gave me his attention.
“Hey,” I pleaded, “I’m just concerned, is all. If you’re sure you’re alright, then fine, I believe you. Just… promise me that you’ll tell me if it’s something serious.”
He holds my gaze for a few seconds, but eventually his eyes grew soft and his frown subsided.
“I will,” he promised. “And I’m sorry I snapped at you. I know you mean well, but I am fine, really. You don’t have to worry about me”. He gave one of his trademark smiles.
Satisfied, I told him to get some rest before heading one door over to my bedroom. Once inside, I set my bag on floor and pulled out my phone from my pocket. A couple of minor modifications later, and I have it set to receive data from the tracking device that I implanted in Tom’s phone. The display showed both of our locations with little red and blue markers on top of a map of the local area. Right now, the markers were practically on top of each other, correctly located within the outline of our property. Should he leave at any point, I’ll be alerted and be able to keep track of his whereabouts.
I’m sorry, Tom, but I lied to you earlier. I don’t believe you at all.
When I had confronted him, he had immediately gone on the defensive, showing anger at my concern. The Tom that I knew would have just laughed and explained the situation. All our talk had done was confirm my suspicions, but provided annoyingly little in the way of actual details.
On the plus side, I now had a means to find out just what was going on with my brother. I fully realized just how much of an intrusion I was making into his personal life, but if I wanted to protect him, then I couldn’t really see any other option. I could only hope that Tom would soon forgive me for this.
Satisfied with the tracking system I had put in place, I tucked my phone away and started preparing my collection of electronics for another round of experimentation.
This time I aimed to test my power’s versatility. With everything set up, I began to manipulate the design of one of the unmodified e-readers. Over and over, I sieved through the endless possibilities, searching for potentially interesting alterations.
The following hours saw birth to a wide array of devices and contraptions; A small arc welder, a powerful electromagnet, even a laser powerful enough to wound a man, to name a few. At some point I had the idea to add another of the cheap e-readers into the mix. Preferring not to waste one of the remaining ‘fresh’ ones, I picked up one of the two spider bots that I had constructed earlier and brought it into contact with my current experiment. Immediately, I felt the possibility space of the two devices expand into a single greater whole.
I had noticed this phenomenon before. Whenever two devices within my ‘range’ came into close contact, my power seemed to treat them as a single object. This came with the apparent benefit of being able to combine two or more machines into a single new invention. At least, that’s what I believed. Until this point, I had only been testing my power on one device at a time, unable to justify the cost of two of my precious electronics.
Now, though, the chance was too great to ignore. I sifted through the endless shapes and forms that filled my mind, and quickly came across a suitable test candidate. With a mental push, I felt the idea flow down my arms and into the pair of machines.
The response was instant. The edges of each device began to shift and fold, their chrome surfaces splitting open to reveal the churning mechanisms below. Like dynamic puzzle pieces, the exposed innards of each device seemed to lock together perfectly. As the transformation progressed, the individual forms quickly became unrecognizable from one another. Soon, the shifting form was approaching a much more simplistic design, at least externally.
The final touches on my new creation solidified its appearance. In my hands, I held a small cube, a few inches to a side. Its surface was shiny and plain, its edges rounded and smooth. A single USB port was inset on the top face of the cube. No other hints as to its purpose could be observed from its exterior.
Out of roughly sixty dollars worth of electronics, I had created a computer the size of my fist that rivaled a ten thousand dollar machine in raw computing power.
But I wasn’t about to stop there. It wasn’t long before the cube broken down and built back as something else. There was no denying that I got some level of pleasure out of my experimentation. Every time I pushed my own boundaries, I felt a sense of great satisfaction. It was like the feeling you get when you win a competition or an award, but several times a minute, never letting up. For the first time in my life, I felt as though I was achieving something worthwhile.
My continued successes also gave me further hope that the right application of my power could prove incredibly useful out in the world at large. I was confident that my vague plan to ‘be a hero’ would one day come to fruition.
Further tinkering served to hint at more and more exciting possibilities. At one point, I had chosen to sacrifice one of the two phones I had bought. Combining that with the mass of the two e-readers, I managed to construct a plasma containment system. It was cylindrical in shape, and only slightly larger than a soda can. A dozen thin grooves ran down the exterior of the machine, provided the majority of its surface detail. The thing was similar, in principle, to the containment systems used in modern fusion reactors, but at a fraction of the size.
While, on its own, the device was not able not initiate fusion of any kind, I believed that It was in my ability to create something that could. With the right materials, I estimated that I could build a viable fusion reactor that could fit inside a car. If only I had access to-
“Dinner’s ready!” Mom’s call resounded through the house, startling me from my thoughts. I hurriedly hid my new equipment under my bed and left for dinner. Damn, I hadn’t even noticed when Mom had come in. I’d have to be more careful, in case someone came to see me while I was in the middle of one of my tests. Maybe I should setup some sort of security system to alert me when someone was approaching?
As I enter the dining room, the smell of chicken casserole forces me to realize just how hungry I am. I had gotten so caught up in my experiments that I had forgotten to eat any lunch.
I sat down at the table as Mom began serving up, and Tom followed not long after. Dad was there as well; didn’t notice him come home either. Peter Harwin, our dad, was a tall, skinny man. Tom and I had inherited his height and lean frame, but luckily not his vision. Dad wore a pair of glasses with a solid frame to correct his short sightedness.
To outsiders, Dad seemed like a very serious, no-nonsense kind of guy, but we knew him as a big softie who has an annoying disposition for ‘Dad jokes’.
Over dinner, we each told the rest about our day and what we got up to. Tom and I didn’t have a whole lot to contribute to the conversation, what with my ‘studying’ and him being ‘sick’.
“Honey,” Mom said to Dad just as we’re finishing dinner, “Why don’t you tell Sean what you told me?”
Dad’s eyes widened in realization.
“Right,” he answered. “So, I was talking to my boss today and he brought up that there’d be some job openings over the summer break, and that you should consider applying.”
I perked up at that. “Oh, really?” I replied, surprised. Ensemble engineering was one of the biggest developers of modern technology in the business. In honesty, working at a place like that had been a dream of mine for a long time. That said, I certainly didn’t expect it to happen so soon. “I haven’t really thought about what I’ll be doing over the summer,” I admit cautiously. “What kind of work do you think it will be?”
“Mostly data entry stuff,” he explains, “Maybe lifting things around here and there. It’s unskilled work, but it’ll get your foot in the door and if you make a good impression it may help down the road.”
That sounded reasonable. I didn’t exactly expect to be made an engineer from the get go, without anything more than high school education. Then again, if they knew what I could do… No, I shouldn’t be thinking that. Revealing my secret is not something that can be undone, and I’m not ready to make that jump right now, if ever.
“I’ll think about it,” I promise, nodding. This was a good opportunity by any standards, but my current situation wasn’t exactly ideal for long term plans.
Dad got up and began clearing the table. “Well don’t think too long about it,” he said with a smile, “Offers like this don’t stay open forever.”
I nodded in acknowledgment before starting to help with the dishes. Tom moved to help too, but Mom told him to go and rest instead. He simply shrugged, and left without a word.
Dad and I finished up with cleaning the dishes several minutes later and he thanked me for the help. Not planning on wasting much more time, I made a beeline for my bedroom. While eating dinner, I had had several more ideas for new machines that I wanted to try out.
As the night progresses, I create a series of various and impressive inventions. With each new creation it becomes even more frustratingly apparent just how limited I am by the initial technology that I use. Repeatedly, I am reminded of possibilities just out of reach. Many of the possible creations that my power shows me seem to be nothing more than components to larger machines.
It took a great deal of willpower to prevent myself from grabbing the remaining unaltered devices and create some of the more exciting options I had become aware of. I was well aware that my current array of electronics would be my only supply for quite some time, possibly even for the next several months.
In that regard, I had already gone through far more of my collection than I had initially intended. Yesterday I had bought two cheap smartphones, six e-readers, and a tablet, but already I had used three of the e-readers and one of the phones (discounting the minor adjustments I had made to the second). No, I simply did not have the resources to keep throwing more devices into the mix.
Hours passed before finally I grew tired enough to justify going to bed. I reluctantly pulled myself away from my experiments and began my usual nightly preparations. When that was done, I checked my Tom’s current location on my phone. Sure enough, the tracking device placed him in the room opposite. Maybe he already went to sleep? Either way, I was pleased with the information. I clicked off the device and plugged it into its charger on my nightstand. After removing my clothes, I climbed into bed and tried my best to fall asleep.
I awoke, drowsy and confused. I blinked my eyes several times, trying to clear the sleep from my eyes. I looked around lethargically, but it was too dark to see anything. The rest of my senses finally caught up to me, and my mind registered the repetitive buzzing sound coming from my left.
Damn, what time was it? And who could be calling me in the middle of the night? Groaning, I shift my weight and reach awkwardly in the dark. Sensing its location with my power, I managed to grab ahold of my phone and bring it before my eyes. The bright screen forced me to squint my dilated eyes, and I struggled to make out the caller ID. This may have been because no one was calling me.
The screen showed a map of the local area, centered on our family’s property. The blue marker, representing me, was exactly where it should be. The red marker, on the other hand…
I almost fell to the floor in my rush to get out of bed. Tom was on the move, and right now it was my self-imposed responsibility to look out for him. There were an awkward few moments where I tried to get dressed both quickly and silently, with varied success. After fumbling in the dark with a shirt and a pair of jeans for what felt like too long, I was just about ready to follow my brother out on his impromptu nighttime adventure. I grabbed a flashlight and a dark hoodie from the back of my wardrobe before heading out the door.
With great care, I opened the door to my room and slipped out quietly. Gently closing the door behind me, I sneaked down the hallway towards the back of the house. Leaving through the front door would have required walking past Mom and Dad’s room, which would only increase the risk of being caught. I passed through the back door, which lead into the back yard, and felt the cool night air on my skin. The moon and quite a few stars were out, giving me just enough illumination to navigate.
Not planning on wasting any time, I left the back yard through the side gate and came out onto the empty street. I quickly checked my phone, which informed me that Tom was already over half a mile away and moving at a fast pace. He was heading north, which didn’t tell me much. Just about every significant location in walking distance was north; everything else was mostly suburbs. I tuck the phone away and start jogging in my brother’s general direction.
The time in the top corner of the device had read 1:34 AM, which explained the unusual silence of the surrounding neighborhood. It was as if the world had gone still. The few people that I did see seemed fairly drunk, but luckily no one gave me any trouble. Several street corners later, and I was beginning to narrow down Tom’s destination. It appeared as though he was heading towards the local park. Maybe he was going to meet someone there, or maybe he was just passing through.
I’d find out soon enough, either way. I tuck my phone away once again and continue towards my destination. Several more minutes of intermittent jogging lead me straight to the near end of the park. Adjacent to the street was a children’s playground, and behind that was a football field, which took up the majority of park area. The sides of the park were lined with trees, I knew, and a path at the far end led out and onto another street, but that was too far from the streetlight for me to be able to see.
I approached cautiously and keep an eye out for my brother, hoping that I can spot him before he spots me. With no immediate success in that regard, I quickly checked the tracking device with my phone. Sure enough, the little red marker on the display placed Tom at a little over a hundred yards north of my location, at the far end of the field.
At this point I’m unsure of how to proceed. I can’t see anything from by the street, but getting closer would mean risking getting spotted myself. I pace back and forth for a few moments until I come to a decision on the matter. I mentally kick myself for making what was undoubtedly a horrible mistake, before I began cautiously advancing up along the side of the field. Keeping as low a profile as I reasonably can, I slowly moved up along the treeline that borders the park.
That is, right until a loud noise stops me dead in my tracks. A sharp and sudden yell, drawn out over several seconds, pierced the air, and it chilled me to the bone. It came from the far end of the field and sounded like the yell of a man who honestly believed he was about to die, but, more importantly, it sounded like Tom.
Throwing caution to the wind, I gave up on my attempt at stealth and bolted towards the source of the sound. The remaining distance was quickly closed, and I soon found myself standing at the north end of the field with Tom nowhere in sight. My eyes, now adjusted to the low light-level, scanned the surrounding area, but found no clues as to my brother’s whereabouts.
I was less than a second away from checking the status of the tracking device when another sound grabbed my attention. From my right, within the dense vegetation that bordered the park, came an alarming noise of snapping twigs and rustling leaves. Maybe it could have simply been a house cat or a bird, if it weren’t for just how loud it was. With the amount of noise coming from the bushes, it could only be a person forcing their way through the undergrowth.
My heart must have been thumping a million times a minute. That had to be Tom, right? It had to be, because if it wasn’t… No. I can’t think like that. Damn it all! Something was very, very wrong. So much so that I could even bring myself to feel satisfaction at the fact that I had been justified in my concern over my brother. At this point I would have given just about anything to have been wrong about everything, but it was too late for that now.
I gripped the torch tightly. It was small and blunt, and could serve as an impromptu weapon if the need arose. I held it up as I approached the edge of the vegetation, before switching it on. The bright beam scattered throughout leafy thicket, creating a chaotic mosaic of light and shadow.
Instantaneously, the sound of snapping twigs and branches came to a sudden stop.
Fuck.
It’s times like these that remind me just how dumb I really am. I spend several moments completely still, listening for the slightest hint of movement, but nothing presents itself. Once again, I am forced to take the initiative.
Tentatively, I took a further step towards a small gap in the bushes. I can literally hear my own heartbeat at this point, and my unsteady breathing doesn’t exactly project a sense of confidence. Several more hesitant steps took me beyond the tree line. My torch was more effective here, beyond the initial leafy barrier, but the surrounding vegetation still made it difficult to see further than a few yards in most directions. This was especially true near the ground, where the bushes were more dense.
As I continued slowly forward, I swept the beam of my torch back and forth over the ground before me, but still I cannot see any sign of the other person present. The fractal shadows of branches and leaves danced in tune with my shaky grip. What concerned me the most were the waist high bushes that covered the ground. While I had a fairly good line of sight at eye level, it wouldn’t be that difficult for my mystery company to stay hidden just a few feet away.
I very nearly try calling out for my brother right then. It’s a miracle that I was still able to rationalize why that may be a very bad idea. Tom was here, I knew that much, but he may well not be alone. Something had to have made Tom yell like he did, and I couldn’t rule out the possibility that the something was a person, or that the person was not a threat.
I swear to God, Tom, if this turns out to be nothing, you’re going to have a hell of a lot of explaining to do.
The sudden sound of crunching sticks and leaves yanked me from my thoughts. I snapped my attention, and my torch, towards the direction of the disturbance. I only managed to catch a glimpse of the figure before they disappeared past the treeline, made it out onto the field, and out of sight.
Not wasting time, I took off after them, but the dense foliage impeded my movement to an infuriatingly slow pace. I hadn’t had a good enough look of the guy to tell whether it was Tom. This time my sense of reason failed and I took in a breath to yell out for my brother. I never got the chance.
My right foot failed to make contact with the ground and for a millisecond I felt that gut wrenching feeling of weightlessness. Only when my upper body impacted the far side of the apparent ditch did I find purchase, but not before the air was knocked from my lungs. The ditch itself was quite deep, as I could not touch the bottom, even with my lower half suspended into it.
Using my upper body, I managed to heave myself up onto the level ground. I lay on my back for a few moments as I try to force air back into my lungs. Slowly my struggle lessens, and my sharp and shallow breaths give way to slow and steady ones. Groaning, I push myself up into a sitting position and look around for the mystery runner; not that I can see shit with all these bushes. Regardless, I certainly would have heard the guy coming if he had tried anything, which is a small comfort.
I just hope to hell that that was Tom back there. I knew, rationally, that it had almost certainly been him, but the little niggling voice in the back of my mind kept whispering all the worst case scenarios it could think of. It didn’t help that this whole situation was completely fucking ridiculous. What the hell was he even doing back here, anyway? Was he looking for something? Even then, why come here in the middle of the night? Ugh, none of this made any sense.
I winced as I pushed myself to my feet. I’m really going to feel that fall in the morning, aren’t I? I dust myself off and give my limbs a stretch. As I do so, I noticed that I was still holding onto my torch – or at least, what was my torch. To my astonishment, the form no longer consisted of an LED bulb at the end of a black cylinder. Instead, the bulb had been replaced by a pair of short metal prongs running parallel to one another.
I don’t have to test it to know what it is; my power informs me of everything. Subconsciously, in a moment of panic, I had altered the design of the flashlight, transforming it into a fully functional taser. I didn’t even know I could do that. I mean, I knew that using my power felt incredibly easy and natural, and I was pretty sure that I could passively repair my creations, even in my sleep, altering a device completely by accident? That was new.
I stop studying the weapon in my hand in order to focus on the more important matter at hand. I could think about the implications of my discovery later, but right now I just wanted to get this whole mess over and done with.
I had been about to check the Tom Tracker one more time, but my attention was once more drawn towards the ditch that had caused my earlier fall. At least, I had thought it was a ditch. Even when standing right at its edge, it was so dark that I couldn’t make out any details. Still, I could make out enough of its shape to see that it was more like a pit than a ditch.
Actually, considering how much wider it was than long, it was really more like a…
I felt my stomach drop at the realization of what lay before me. My thoughts were overpowered by an immense feeling of dread. This wasn’t just some pit in the ground; This was a grave. One that was big enough to hold an adult.
Christ, Tom. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?
With an unsteady hand and shaky breath, I bring my attention back to the weapon in my hand. At that moment, I didn’t need a taser. I needed light. Without hesitation, I delve into the possibility-space of black cylinder and find a design similar to its original form. I twitch impatiently as the machine shifts back towards its prior function. I don’t even bother to switch the torch on manually, I just set the design so that it’s on by default.
At last, the final components of the small machine fit into place. The grave beneath me is filled with light, and I am confronted with a sight that will haunt me for the rest of my life: The cold lifeless eyes of my brother, staring up at me.
A young man paced in the darkness, teetering on the edge of full blown panic. His hands were clasped over his mouth, as if he might lose control without the physical restraint. The lump in his throat refused to go away, and his lips quivered with the threat of despairing wails. Not for the first time, tears began to well up in his eyes, and he squeezed them shut in response.
Why did he come back here? This place that he had once called his home? It was like earlier, when he had raced home in the face of overwhelming fear, as if he was supposed to find some sort of sanctuary here. Even now, when all that he knew had been turned on its head, he had come to the one place he could feel safe.
That could no longer be the case. This wasn’t his home. It never was. Everything he thought he knew was wrong.
Hours ago, while lying on his bed, he had resolved himself that he would get to the bottom of what had happened at the park. His earlier attempt during the day had caused a full blown panic attack, and no amount of contemplation could tell him why. He had been certain that the answers to his questions lay just beyond the treeline at the far end of the park.
So, when everyone was asleep, he had snuck off to find out, once and for all, just what was going on. It had taken a few minutes to reach the park, and he used the time to mentally prepare himself for how he would react when he arrived. His last attempt to search amongst the trees had been… less than successful, and he wasn’t naive enough to think that he would have no problems this time around.
And sure enough, when he arrived at the place of forgotten memories, his fear had hit him like a wave. Beyond all else, he was afraid, but he had come here for answers. He would not back down, not until he had found what he was looking for. Step by step, the young man had encroached further and further towards the treeline, until finally he was beyond the precipice.
Within the thicket, between the dense shrubs and bushes, he found a hole in the ground. A grave, In which he had found the answers to all his questions. Partially covered in a thin layer of dirt lay the pale body of Thomas Michael Harwin.
And the young man remembered.
He remembered heading home from the party the night before. He remembered being stopped by a dark figure when he entered the park. He remembered the horror and pain he had felt when the monster had shown its true form and killed him. He had died.
‘No, I didn’t,’ it dawned on him. Tom Harwin had died.
‘But then who am I?’ he asked himself, but he already knew the answer. As his memories flooded back to him, he saw beyond his supposed ‘death’, through the eyes of the monster that had taken his …Tom’s life. He remembered dragging the body into the trees. He remembered using superhuman strength to dig a six foot grave with his bare hands, before dumping Tom’s body into the pit.
For some reason, unknown to him, he never finished the burial, instead choosing to leave the body out in the cool night air. Instead, he had simply left and headed home. He remembered feeling drunk, he remembered stumbling through the front door, and he remembered collapsing you in Tom Harwin’s bed.
These memories flashed back to him in an instant, all while he was still standing over the dead body of the boy he thought he was.
It was all too much.
He had yelled – almost as loud as Tom had, before he was killed – and apparently someone had heard, because it wasn’t long before the beam of a torch was being swept through the dense undergrowth. He’d waited until an opening presented itself, before making a run for it.
That was ten minutes ago.
He now found himself standing out in the backyard of the home he remembered living in all his life. Just like yesterday, he had been drawn here out of a desire for security and safety, but truthfully he knew that none of that could be found here. Not for him.
Slowly, he held his right arm out in front of him and pulled the sleeve back. The skin – if you could even call it that – of his forearm was divided into an array of small hexagons. Each about the size of a nickel, they were outlined by a web of thin, angular, millimeter-deep indentations. The grooves grew shallow further down my arm, only disappearing just before my wrist. As far as he could tell, the pattern had not advanced nor retreated along his arm since he had noticed it a couple of minutes ago.
The most unsettling aspect of the design was the sickly blue glow that emanated from the boundaries of each of the polygons. A constant reminder that no matter what he looked like on the surface, what lay below was not the slightest bit human.
Unable to stand the sight, he pulled his sleeve down over the offending marks.
‘What am I?’
No answers were forthcoming. That question would have to wait for later. Right now there were more pressing issues to deal with, like the fact that there had been someone else present at the park where he found the graveyard. He kicked himself for not realizing the implication earlier. Whoever it was had undoubtedly found the body by now, and it would only a matter of time before the police show up and start asking questions.
He straightened, resolving himself for the inevitable conclusion: He would have to leave tonight. Take whatever he could carry and get as far away as he possibly could. It would also be best for everyone if he didn’t say goodbye. After all, he wasn’t Anna and Peter’s son, and he wasn’t Sean’s…
“Tom?” a weary voice, Sean’s voice, called out from behind him, interrupting his thoughts. He winced at the name. Slowly, he turned to face the young man who, less than an hour ago, he would have called his brother.
Sean looked like a mess. His jeans were smeared with dirt, and his eyes and nose were red from obvious distress. That seemed to change, however, when he got a good look of him. Sean’s eyes widened in shock at the sight of his brother, and he quickly closed the distance between them.
“Tom!” Sean almost shouted as he pulled his brother into a bear hug, catching the man off guard. “I…” he struggled, “I thought you were dead! Down at the park – I followed – there was a body. It looked just like-”
Sean continued his rambling, haphazardly explaining where he had gone and what he had seen. ‘Tom’, however, still caught in Sean’s embrace, only felt the pit in his stomach grow larger and larger.
‘He knows.’
“-but the tracking device lead back here, so I thought maybe… And I was right! I just… I’m just so fucking glad you’re okay, Tom.”
‘Wait’
He pulled out of the hug, holding Sean by the shoulders.
“What?” He asked, momentarily distracted from the greater situation by the absurdity of the current one.
“What do you mean, ‘What’?” Sean responded, brow furrowed.
“‘Tracking device’?” he prompted, somewhat accusatory, “Have you been tracking me?”
“Uh,” Sean hesitated, a guilty look on his face, “That’s… a bit of a long story.” His expression became serious, and he shook the hands off of his shoulders. “And not really important right now, either. You gonna explain to me just what the hell is going on here?”
Once again, his world came crashing down around him. Now Sean was demanding answers, and he wasn’t sure that he had the heart to give them to him. He closed his eyes and exhaled.
‘No. Sean was Tom’s brother. He deserves to know the truth.’
“Sean,” he began, making eye contact, “I can’t explain everything right now, because… I don’t really understand it all myself. But the important thing you need to realize is that,” he took a breath, “I’m not who I thought I was, Sean. I’m not… I’m not Tom.” He swallowed and looked away, “Tom’s dead.”
Only after a few moments of silence did he dare look back. Sean’s mouth hung open slightly, and his brows were furrowed in confusion. Abruptly, the puzzled teen turned away from the conversation, stopping a few paces away. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he was silent for several seconds. A long, drawn out sigh escaped Sean’s lips.
The other man fidgeted nervously while he waited for a response.
“Sean,” he tried, but was swiftly rebuked.
“No,” Sean snapped. His head was turned halfway towards the speaker and his hand was partially raised in warning. “Stop. I need …give me time to think.”
Sean spent several moments deep in thought. Massaging his forehead with one hand, he paced back and forth through the yard. Eventually, he seemed to settle on a decision. Sean spun on his heel to face the man who claim to not be his brother.
“Alright,” he announced, his face carrying an expression of great severity, “here’s what going to happen: I’m going to ask you a series of questions, and you are going to answer them clearly and truthfully. Do you understand?”
The man’s mouth hung open in shock at the bold display.
‘Since when was Sean this assertive? Then again, there’s no denying that the situation calls for it.’
“I understand,” he answered simply.
“Good,” Sean approved, “Now, first: You said that you’re not Tom. Is that correct?”
He was forced to look away under the pressure of Sean’s interrogation.
“Yes,” he replied meekly.
A few moments passed while his answer was response was processed.
“Okay,” Sean breathed, despite everything being clearly not ‘okay’, “Okay …Let’s assume that’s true for now. You also said that you ‘weren’t who you thought you were’. Is that true?”
A simple nod was all he received this time.
“So, what, you have his memories, or something? How else could you think you were Tom?”
Another nod, but this time he spoke up.
“It’s all I know. I… I don’t even know what I am anymore.” He shook his head while he spoke.
Nothing was said for some time. He refused to look Sean in the eye, but Sean, on the other hand, was studying him closely.
After an uncomfortable amount of time had passed, Sean was the first to speak.
“I really fucking hate you right now. You want to know why?”
Not able to find the words to respond, all he could do was force himself to return Sean’s stare.
“It’s because I could be sleeping right now,” Sean answered, surprising the man. He was unable to make sense of the statement before Sean closed the distance between them and slapped a hand on his shoulder. “But you had to go and get me all caught up in your mess. Which, I might add, could have been completely avoided had you just come to me in the first place.”
‘…What?’
Of all the reaction he had expected Sean to have, this… hadn’t even made the list.
“I mean, really, Tom,” Sean continued, now sounding more like a mother scolding a child than anything else. “What are brothers for, if not to have each other’s backs? C’mon Tom.” He gave the shoulder a shake. “Let’s go get some sleep.”
And with that, Sean turned away, walking back towards the house and leaving the so-called Tom more bewildered than ever.
“What are you doing?” he blurted, stopping Sean in his tracks, who then turned to face him, eyebrow raised. “Sean,” he emphasized, as if saying the name would make a difference, “I am not Tom. I thought I was, but… you saw the body too. There is no other explanation. You know that.”
Sean only rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, I saw the body. It’s something I’ll never forget, not for the rest of my life. But I also see someone standing right here in front of me. I see my brother. Call it a twin’s intuition, but I know you, Tom, and I can tell you’re no impostor. Lost and confused, yes, but you’re certainly not a fraud.” Sean rubbed his chin, thinking of what else he could say. “The point I’m trying to make is: You honestly thought you were Tom, before, and has anything really changed since then? You know more, but that doesn’t mean you’re a different person. You…. you can’t let anyone other than yourself define who you are.”
The words hung in the air, with neither sure what to say after a speech like that.
‘Wait. He said I can’t let any-’
“Except for me, of course,” Sean amended, “I mean, we are identical twins. I should get a little bit of a say in your identity, don’t you think?”
Unable to help himself, Tom laughed at Sean’s sudden attempt to backtrack. The pure absurdity of the situation had become too much to handle, and a nervous, but ultimately genuine chuckle resulted. Sean smiled broadly, just happy to see his brother so joyful.
But when Tom saw the expression, reality came crashing back to him. Unfortunately, no amount of well-meant speeches or declarations of brotherhood could undo facts, and the fact was that staying was still not an option. Seeing Sean so happy was heartbreaking, as he realized he would have to put an end to any remaining hope of a positive outcome.
Sean’s smile faded as Tom’s laughter was replaced by an uneasy silence. Tom cleared his throat, preparing himself for what needed to be said.
“I can’t stay here, Sean. You know that. It’s only a matter of time before somebody finds the body in the park, and… I can’t live in this house knowing that each day here could be my last.” He pressed his lips to a line, trying to fight the growing lump in his throat. “This is what’s best for everyone, so… so I’m going to grab some things, and then I’m going to leave.” Tears were again welling in his eyes, his voice close to breaking. “Please, don’t try to stop me.”
For his part, Sean appeared sympathetic, but nonetheless confused by Tom’s ultimatum.
“I… can’t say I can understand what you must be feeling right now,” Sean admitted cautiously, “but I promise you; None of your problems are as difficult as you think they are, no matter how insurmountable they may seem right now.”
He stepped forward, holding his arm out in invitation. However, Sean’s response only served to frustrate Tom, who was starting to get sick of the teen’s stubbornness.
‘How can he still not understand? There’s only one was this can end’
Tom slapped the proffered hand away, determined to get the gravity of the situation through to him.
“Stop,” he insisted, his irritation clear upon his face. He carefully felt at the end of his right sleeve with his left hand, hooking a couple of fingers under the material. “You’re still not getting it.” With a single motion, he pulled his sleeve up his arm, revealing the ‘skin’ beneath. The geometrical grid of polygons and hexagons marked the surface of his arm, stopping only halfway down his forearm. The pattern had actually retreated slightly, Tom noticed, but the evidence was still undeniable. The nauseating blue glow indicated that something other than blood and flesh lay within.
The sight was painful for Tom, but at least Sean would be unable to deny what could be plainly seen: That whatever he was now, he was clearly not human.
Or at least, so he thought.
“That’s… interesting.” Sean observed, “I wonder if-”
“Jesus Christ, Sean,” Tom interrupted, “Have you hit your head or something? How can you see something like this,” he gestured to his arm, “and not even be alarmed? What’s it going to take for me to get through to you just how serious the situation is?”
Sean was silent for a moment, clearly deep in thought. Eventually, he let out sigh, resigned to some unpleasant decision. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and held it out in front of him. Idly, he turned the device over in his fingers, observing it closely. Tom was just about to ask again if Sean had a concussion, when he snapped his eyes up and looked Tom directly in the eyes.
“You’re not the only one with secrets, you know,” Sean explained.
A small flash of light pulsed from the phone. Before Tom could interpret just what he had seen, the device began to fold in on itself. Tom stared, mouth agape, as the phone appeared to shift and reshape itself. The surface of the machine had split into many small segments, exposing the complex circuitry below. At this point, the electronic amalgam had reformed itself to fit perfectly against the palm of Sean’s hand. Mechanized tendrils sprouted from its sides and slid their way through the gaps in his fingers, as well as on either side of his wrist, before attaching themselves together on the far side of his hand.
Finally, the churning mass began to take form. The disk, strapped snugly against Sean’s palm, was engraved with a series of concentric rings. When the final touches on the new machine appeared to be complete, it could be seen that each of the rings were dotted with dozens of small holes.
And with a flick of his fingers, the machine came to life in Sean’s hand. A tiny light was produced from each of the holes that perforated the devices surface, but that wasn’t what held Tom’s attention.
Above the device, floating in the air, hung a glowing, six-inch model of the Earth. The transparent globe rotated listlessly, juxtaposed against the spectacle of its creation.
Tom’s mouth had yet to close. A few attempts were needed before he could find his words.
“That… That’s…”
“Impossible?” Sean offered, “I thought so too, a week ago. Those conspiracy theories about superheroes that keep popping up? They’re true. Or some of them are, anyway. That’s what I- we are. Do you understand now? This isn’t something we have to be afraid of.”
Tom shook his head, more out of general disbelief than disagreement. He forced himself to look away from the hologram as he ran a hand through his hair.
“This is insane,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “How… how can you do that?”
“You know, I’m not really sure,” Sean replied truthfully as he studied the hologram, “But I can tell you what I know, tomorrow”
Tom saw through the ploy. He straightened himself, and faced Sean once again.
“You know that’s not going to happen. I’m still leaving.”
“You really are caught up on this leaving idea, aren’t you?” Sean commented, sighing. He closed his hand, deactivating the holographic projector. Folding his arms in front of him, he smiled sadly. “If there really isn’t any convincing you otherwise, I guess there’s only one thing I can do.”
Tom’s back stiffened at the words. If Sean was so dead set on making his stay here, then who could say what he was about to try? Tom tensed his limbs, prepared for anything. If Sean yelled for Anna and Peter, or even tried to stop him physically, then he may have to make a run for it. If he went straight for the gate, he could probably-
“I’m coming with you,” Sean announced, his expression resolute.
“W- What!?” Tom sputtered, “You can’t be serious… What about your parents? You have a life here!”
“But not a brother, apparently” Sean replied calmly.
Tom’s mind was struggling to keep up with this seemingly unending series of revelations. This last surprise may not have been as outlandish as the others, but Tom felt its impact all the same. He had to put an end to these ridiculous notions.
Didn’t he?
“And if I don’t let you?” he retorted, only for Sean to let out a snort.
“I don’t remember asking for your permission,” he countered, smiling, “And don’t even think about trying to leave without me. How long do you think you could hide from a guy that can make a tracking device the size of a red blood cell?”
‘Crap. I’d forgotten about that.’
The truth was, the selfish part of Tom’s mind was not all that opposed to the idea of Sean coming with him. Even more so than his par- than Anna and Peter. He would miss Sean the most; even amongst twins, they had always been protective of one another. When they had both started high school, Tom had used his newfound popularity to make sure that Sean, the more introverted of the two, wasn’t bullied. Now Sean was trying to return the favor, and Tom was struggling to refuse the offer.
“You’re bluffing” he accused unconvincingly.
“Do you even know where you’re going?” Sean asked, sidestepping the allegation. When Tom didn’t answer, he continued. “You may not think I’m your brother, but you’re still mine, and you’re an idiot if you think I’m just going to let you go off on your own.”
Tom’s internal struggle was at its peak. More and more of himself was giving way to the idea of sticking with Sean. He had been right; Tom didn’t consider Sean to be his brother, but a lifetime of memories could not be so easily dismissed. It was the thought of traveling completely alone, both in company and in understanding, that finally dissolved the final elements of resistance in Tom’s mind.
For several moments, Tom stood still, trying to spit out the right words before he had a chance to change his mind. In what may turn out to be the best or worst decision he’d ever made, he opened his mouth.
“We should get going…”
The Stranger 