Quantum Poppers (27 page)

The urge to run
at him and physically strike was strong. Would physical force put right all
that had happened? Of course not, but John knew it would make him feel better.

‘Are you behind
all this? The kidnap, the solitude?’ These were questions John had himself but
it was the being in front of him who was asking them now.

‘How dare you.
How dare you question whether all this has anything to do with me. It’s all
you. Bastard! You took my life, my family.’

‘Me? I was fine
until two weeks ago when out of the blue I’m imprisoned in here. This has got
to be a joke. A set up, I get it now. I get it now Bartley, very funny. All
these cameras, an actor who resembles me a little I suppose. It's all for TV
right? A new twisted game show just to see how I’d react. Very good. Well, this
is it. I hope it’s what your audience would have wanted.’

John continued to
stare at the imposter. Both men stood one hundred feet apart but neither moved
towards the other.

‘You’ve been
here two weeks?’

‘Almost to the
day. Who are you? One of Bartley's men?’

‘I’m just me.
I’ve been looking for you, for answers. I knew you were out there somewhere. I
saw Caroline.’

‘Caroline? You
saw my wife?’ The imposter’s insistence in passing this off as a joke began to
slip as anger simmered on the edge of his words. ‘When did you see my wife?’

‘Don’t talk to
me about my wife. After pregnancy, Kerry, and garage doors, you have absolutely
no right to question my life.’

‘What are you
talking about? Caroline, Kerry, garage doors, that’s
my
life.’

‘Do you
remember seeing me before?’ John took his first hesitant step closer and wiped
sweat from his brow. Heat as well as light was being radiated by the immense
lighting rig above.

‘Every time I
look in a mirror pal. Bartley!’ he called once more.

‘Callor Tower,
twelve months ago? I know you saw me being pulled into a lift shaft. That's
when I assume you picked up the slack of my life.’

There was no
response. He no doubt remembered the sight of seeing someone similar at his
office building being dragged into a lift, but perhaps he hadn’t seen him
clearly enough to recognise the obvious similarities. Perhaps it had been too
harsh, the memory suppressed.

‘Bartley,’ he
once again called out, this time hesitant. John slowly began walking across the
empty space before them.

‘You met
Caroline on a Friday night outside an open all hour’s kebab van. The moon was
full and you chose the egg burger because it’s where her shadow fell on the
menu. She’s allergic to nuts except walnuts which we leave for her every
Christmas under her pillow. Your pin number of your credit card was first your
year of birth, then your best bowling score multiplied by the size shoes you
were wearing at the time. You proposed to Caroline when drunk which, whilst you
meant it, have regretted every day since for not using the plan - double
visioned and done over a portion of cold gravy in a KFC at two o’clock in the
morning was not the way it was supposed to happen. You planned to name your
first child after your favourite footballer if it was a boy, even though you
told Caroline it was after your grandfather who happened to have the same name.
And right now you’re confused, scared, and more than ever need to know what’s
going on. I know, because I feel the exact same way.’

There was no
reply. The twin hadn’t moved but John had now halved the distance between them.
In a rush of steps he could easily reach out to him and - what? Hit him? Hug
him? He felt he needed a physical connection, to at least put his own mind at
ease that all this was really happening. He finally stopped at the sound of the
voice from behind him.

‘That’s enough
John.’

‘Bartley,’
shouted the twin. ‘What the hell is happening?’

John Johnson
himself remained still and calm, virtually dejected at what was happening

‘Step away from
him John.’

He didn’t want
to turn, unsure which of the two of them Bartley was referring. Was there only
one true John Johnson here? And could it be that after all of this, it wasn’t
him? Another figure emerged from the shadows. The imposter was bouncing lightly
on his feet.
Eyeing a getaway,
thought John. It sounded as though he too
had been imprisoned in this place without explanation, freedom or company. The
figure increased his pace and managed to grab hold of the twin and pull him
away from John. He shouted obscenities, but let himself be moved, sensing the
chance of an explanation of his own. ‘I just want to know what’s going on!’

‘Me to,’
whispered John who hadn’t moved.

Bartley was
close behind him now. He felt his arm reach down on his shoulder which to
John's surprise offered extreme comfort. He never had thought that connection
from this man would ever be welcoming, but now there was nothing left to fear.
He’d seen enough.

‘Just tell me
one thing,’ said John and slowly turned to face Bartley. The muted shouts and
shuffling of a restricted twin were faint in the background. ‘Am I the real
John Johnson, or am I his twin?’

‘I can assure
you, that you are the one, the only, actual John Johnson. You always have been.
You always will. Please forgive me; I believe your explanation is long
overdue.’

And he was
finally told. John grew numb as tales of time discrepancies were put forth;
John himself jumping back twice to a past he could not recall and the
duplication which had resulted.

‘We panicked.
The simultaneous existence of self and ghost on the quantum plain had never
happened before. It was decided, with myself taking full responsibility, to
simply hide you away. We were waiting that day at your office, prepared for all
eventualities upon your return. When we saw you hadn’t realigned to your
representation, we had to act quickly.’

‘By chucking me
in a car and imprisoning me.’

‘Yes.' The
simplicity of this response could almost be admired.

‘What about
him?’ said John not needing to turn to show who he was indicating.

‘Yeah, what
about me? I’m just as much of a prisoner.’

‘The sole
purpose of originally keeping you here John, was to eradicate all possible
chance of you ever coming into physical contact with your other self. In this
reality of matter and anti-matter, if you were ever to come into contact with
each other, on the plain, then paradoxes would ensue. The entire universe will
implode in on itself. Everything would end. It was selfish I know, but keeping
an individual locked away seemed the obvious step in continuing life on this
planet. I hope you can find a way to understand that.’

‘So why run the
risk of us in the same room now? I could have touched him?’

‘Shock tactics.
It’s easier for you to see for yourself the result of your jump and then have
me explain. And believe me, there was never a chance of you reaching him before
we brought you down.’

Sounds ominous
, thought John
and gazed around, aware of others now flanking the walls of the room.

‘When you
escaped we knew we had time. We have been keeping track of your other self
since day one, all that mattered was that you didn’t come into contact with
him.’

‘So upon losing
me
you simply imprisoned
him
.’

‘We couldn’t
have the two of you coming into contact with each other. As long as we had one
of you under lock and key so to speak, it wasn’t going to happen.’

John turned to
face himself, he had stopped struggling but two guards were still holding him.

‘Bartley,’ he
shouted again. ‘What is going on?’

John took one
step forward and sensed Bartley flinch at what would happen next. But he
remained still. He just looked into his own eyes, sensing that whatever was
beneath truly was a version of himself. Whether or not he believed the time
travel aspects of what had just been spewed, the fact of the being he was
looking at could not be ignored. He was there for all to see, and sense.

‘What about the
baby?’ said John. His eyes remained on himself, but the words were meant for
Bartley. As he spoke he didn’t care who would answer or how the question would
be interpreted.

‘Why should you
care,’ screamed his twin. ‘You have no stake in my child. It’s mine, all mine,
just like the rest of my life. You can’t have it’

‘John,’ the
authority in Bartley's voice was missing. ‘What do you mean, the baby?’

‘Why don’t you
ask him? The father of my child.’

‘My child,’ he
screamed.

John could hear
the door open and a figure approach.

‘There’s a
child?’ said Bartley.

John turned.
‘It would seem you aren’t so all knowing after all. He fathered my child whilst
I was away. You couldn’t foresee that?’

‘Bartley,’ the
new entrant said, approaching Bartley at speed.

‘Hang on,’ he
replied. ‘Your wife is pregnant with his child?’

‘It would seem
so.’

The entrant
caught this and he and Bartley exchanged a look as blank as bad news could
portray. ‘John, one of the reasons we were so adamant to keep the two of you
apart was due to the knowledge of an upcoming catastrophe sending ripples of
distortion through time. These ripples have been monitored for almost fifty
years and have grown in prominence throughout that time. It would appear a
cataclysmic event in the near future causes this. We believed it was you.’

‘We may have
another,’ said the new entrant.

‘Hang on Max,
one cataclysmic event at a time. You’re situation with replication was, and is,
unique. We thought that whatever caused this temporal disruption was sending
tachyon waves back from an incident you caused – namely, coming into contact
with yourself.’

‘I still
could.’

‘I don’t think
you would. You couldn’t bring yourself to get too close a moment ago, and I
hope you’ll adhere to our request of no contact from now on. We can work
together, the three of us, on managing that. The child though is a different
matter.’

‘You think my
son could cause global catastrophe?’

‘
My
son,’ screamed the duplicate, as if it were the only thing he had to cling on
to. John supposed it was.

‘It’s a
variable we haven't counted on.’

‘That’s an
understatement,’ said Max.

‘But we can
work it out,’ said Bartley who directed this at Max. ‘John, we can work on
this. I’ll be honest, I have no idea whether this is the cause of all anomalies
we have monitored, but the birth of your child will not be the cause of the
universe’s destruction, I’ll see to that.’

‘It’s not
mine,’ said John. There was now silence, especially from the twin who
overhearing this was probably just glad of John’s acceptance of whose the child
was.

Who knew what
the twin was thinking now. Had he deduced the true meaning of Bartley’s words?
That he was an anti-matter representation of the true self and should only have
existed for the apparent seven minutes John had once jumped back to the past?
It sounded ridiculous, it
was
ridiculous, but it sounded at the very
least that he was going home to his wife and his family, fearless of reprisals
from the members of this complex who appeared to have more problems than he
could have imagined.

‘Bartley,’ said
Max, still lurking over his shoulder.

‘Yes.’

‘We have
another slight issue. It could be nothing.’

‘You just said
it could be catastrophic.’

‘We don’t
know.’

‘Well?'

‘Tony is
missing.’

‘What do you
mean missing?’

‘Brian just
contacted me. He left the office for a few moments, came back, and Tony was
gone.’

‘Probably just
touring the office, speaking to Sophie at reception. Probably realising it’s
not quite as glamorous as he first thought.’

‘He took
Brian’s Device.’

Without a word
Bartley reached into his jacket and removed a mobile phone, he keyed in a
number.

‘Brian,' he
shouted throwing glances to John, his twin, to Max and the door. ‘Speak to me.’
He was staring now at John, his face almost deflating in defeat. ‘Did he see
the database of pops?’ There was silence all around. ‘Ok, did he view a record
of an Emma Ronen?’ He closed his eyes as he asked this. ‘Ok.’

He hung up, his
eyes remained closed as he appeared to struggle to breathe; there was also a
glimmer of a smile. His eyes slowly opened with an acknowledgement, and he
nodded, as if confirming something to himself.

‘John, go home,
we will be in touch. The baby isn’t the cause.’

He pocketed the
phone and hastily turned towards the door. He began pacing away from them all -
John, the twin, Max and the other nameless people in the room.

‘What’s
happening?’ shouted Max who now appeared at as much a loss as John.