Betwixt the Chasm of Minds

BETWIXT THE CHASM OF MINDS

by Gage Fine Lore

Dayton and Fritz were adventurous at heart, living full time with their father Clay out of the nicest mobile home park in the city. Clay was by no means well-to-do, but spent almost every dollar on his boys, trying to ensure their lives be as full, happy, and healthy as possible. Unfortunately he wasn't able to be as physically present as much as he wished. The security firm he worked for had a demanding and varied on-call schedule.

What little time Clay could spend with his boys he tried to make count. He showed them how to hunt, fish, handle tools and equipment, and even took them to a firing range on occasion, though he reminded them often that weapons were always to be considered a measure of last resort.

“There are three rules in this world, boys. Be kind as far as you are able, to yourself, to others, and to the world around you, in that order. Second, if you do not understand, learn. It's always wiser to admit ignorance, than to act on half-truths, and to risk trying and failing instead of relying solely on others to do things for you. Third, stand up for what you believe. That is the true test of anyone, and it will not be easy. But always allow your heart to guide you. Though sometimes we must make room for new beliefs when we encounter a mental chasm between ourselves and another. That's part of rule one and two.”

Dayton was older than his brother Fritz by three years. Despite the age difference, the two were fast friends, though some called Fritz a shadow, who was sure to follow his brothers every footstep, and entertain his every interest. Today it was mountain biking.

There were open forests along the backside of their home, and the dense autumn leaves underfoot gave lots of fun as the tires flipped through the gentle slopes and bits of rocky outcroppings. A couple friends from school had joined the brothers, but one by one, they had all left throughout the day, and as evening fell, the boys found themselves on their own.

Fritz snapped his head around again with a start. Nothing. That was the forth time today he had the overwhelming sensation of being watched, and the hairs on his neck were standing straight up. Dayton noticed, and looked around with a sigh.

“You've been jumpy all day. Not to discount whatever you're feeling, but maybe no more scary movies this week. Just saying.”

Fritz was defensive. “It's not the freaking movies Dayt! Something's… There's definitely something out th-” He stopped.

Dayton turned back towards his brother. He knew enough not to doubt Fritz's senses completely. But the sight that confronted his eyes struck him as dumb and stark still as his brother before him. A dark stone.

This rock was like nothing else on Earth. It was only about three feet long, two wide, and one tall, but the rest was so strange, the size was immaterial. The front tip glowed. Pulsed actually. A bright, hot, white point, humming and rhythmically beating like a mechanical heart. It indeed felt like the small boulder was staring down upon them with an unblinking eye. The cooling air was steaming off the front in waves as heat distortion surrounded it like a mane. The last and strangest thing was also the most obvious. It floated. It was sitting there, even now, about thirteen feet in the air, with just a bit of wobble, as it adjusted its position in the autumn breeze.

The hushed silence felt like an eternity, but in reality was merely a half second, as Dayton reacted instinctively. He grabbed for Fritz, pushing the younger sibling forward urgently, while his own eyes never veered from the unknown object.

“Run.” Dayton stated in a surprisingly calm voice. Then a dread terror kicked his flight response into high gear. “RUN!!!” He screamed at the top of his shrieking voice, as the two bolted back down the hill, both unanimously aiming straight for home. The elder glanced back only to find his worst fear realized. They were being followed. Whatever this thing was, it was keeping its distance.. for now. But it was also keeping pace with their mad flight with ease.

If that was true, then there was little point in going this fast. “Slow up a little, Fritz. We can't outrun it.” He shouted in warning, his voice cracking a little. It was a good call. The youngster was already too close to the next ravine, but was able to adjust in time.

“What're we gonna do, Dayt? What'll we do!?” Fritz was clearly frantic and nearly unintelligible, his breathing was far too rapid.

Dayton tried to think how to calm him, though his own state of frenzy made it difficult. “Rule two.” He finally managed, through gritted teeth. “We need intel. If it means to follow us, I say we use that against it. We can lead it to the shed.” Of course, taking it home was risky, but if it was already this close, then heading towards a more easily controlled environment was worth it.

The trailer park was just ahead now, its main double doors were on one side, and closed like large shudders with another access door in the back. Quickly and with single-minded purpose, the boys jumped off their bikes, their pursuer mere feet behind them. They dashed together, flinging the entryway open, speeding through the shed, and out the back, slamming the rear pass behind them, finishing with a rush around to the front.

The levitating crag seemed different now. It was facing them, the glowing part had turned towards the entrance, but the humming was less intense, like a satisfied purr. It was making no effort to move from the spot it had settled into, right smack in the middle of the structure, bobbing midair between the ceiling and the floor. The boys didn't wait to see more. They closed the doors and backed away in tandem. The two shared a look. If this thing wanted to, there was no way this dinky little hut would stand the slightest chance at stopping its escape.

Their home was empty when the boys ran inside. That was to be expected. Dad had said that this would be another all-nighter. There was a casserole in the fridge from yesterday to reheat for dinner, but neither of them felt very hungry. Instead, they sat across from each other at the small dining room table in silence, contemplating on what, if anything, they could do, and about the crazy magnitude of their ongoing experience. After all, while neither was very surprised at the thought of aliens being real, there was a big difference between believing there might be other life in the universe, and finding the evidence of it before you in your face.

Meanwhile, within the occupied shed, strange energies filled the air. Arcs of concentrated electricity leapt from object to object whether they were conductive or not. An entire wheelbarrow melted into floating globs of metal slag, as a circular saw blade spun wildly in concentric arcs. In the middle of the melee sat the maw, the eye of the storm strobing and surging. Piece by piece, it was assembling the materials about itself, using them to build a machine meticulously from the scrapped component elements. From the outside, the only evidence was an occasional thrum of energy, and an ever-present flashing from the single window.

Clay arrived home around 3:00 A.M. His job was not really hard as it was tedious and exacting. He habitually checked his property for trouble, and noticed the backdoor on the shed was oddly askew. He'd deal with it in a moment. First he wanted to check on the boys. He entered as quietly as he could, and spied the two around the corner of the entryway. They'd fallen asleep on the couch again, still wearing their street clothes.

Clay sighed. At least they'd turned off the television this time. He started disrobing his coat into the closet, when he heard some kind of bizarre mechanical whine outside. Remembering the mysterious state of the shed, he decided to arm himself, and investigate. He had several weapon licenses, including a concealed carry permit.

The sound from the shed was out of this world. Like disharmonious turbines whining, first down into a deep bone-shaking bass, then up beyond human hearing. The discordant tones were deeply unsettling. The interior was utterly unlit as Clay approached. As he peeked into the backdoor, the immediate impression of desolation was absolute. Everything was gone. The walls themselves were stripped of all insulation, support structures, shelving, and electrical wiring. The shed was no longer physically able to support its own weight, and yet it stood. A bowl shaped depression had been carved into the dirt floor. All this in service towards.. whatever this thing was.

The structure in the center was beyond foreign. Struts snaked throughout every surrounding surface, leading to something not quite a sphere in the middle. Several of the vine-like anchors were blocking the backdoor from opening completely, but there was just enough room for Clay to squeeze through. He realized just as he finished pushing his way in how stupid he was being to investigate this thing alone, but, even now, his curiosity was too invested to walk away.

Now that he thought about it, his boys must have seen either this or something like it. They had fallen asleep holding each other for comfort. That wasn't normal. Assuming their bikes had been in here, they'd be upset to see them gone in the morning. Still wearing his baton from work, Clay used it to probe one of the attached tendrils experimentally. They had some give to them, but were very strong.

“What are you?” He murmured, gazing around the hollowed out shed in awe.

“Life.” Answered a female voice from within. Clay startled and readied his weapon. The sphere opened like an egg in four uneven pieces, a brilliant green glow emanating from within. From the machine withdrew perfection herself. Flawless skin, deep soulful eyes, symmetrical features, and a smile both sweet and seductive. Clay lowered his gun without even thinking about it. The day had already been long and difficult. His brain wasn't prepared for naked beauties impossibly birthed in his yard.

Some mass below the woman had arranged itself into a set of steps. As she climbed down, she smiled radiantly, and reached out a single hand to Clay in invitation. Almost in a stupor, he reached out in kind. Without a sound, within an instant, the bodily form of Clay was gone. Vanished without a trace. His empty clothes dropped to the ground uselessly. The woman grasped her hand in satisfaction. “Life.”

She turned back to the sphere which had closed again, humming with renewed intensity. Still smiling, the woman exited the shed, the struts writhing while removing themselves from her path out the front. In the quiet darkness she paced calmly away from the property. She either did not observe or didn't care that she had been seen.

Two traumatized boys with tears in their eyes waited several minutes before daring to move from their spot near the back of the shed. Their father wasn't as careful leaving the house as he had been on entering, and both of the brothers already had their nerves on edge, so were sleeping lightly. They followed their father out toward the shed, but he had entered it before they even saw him. The two had peeked through the backdoor and watched the entire exchange. Dayton was still holding his younger brother's mouth. It was unnecessary, but that didn't change the fact that they were internally screaming.

Fritz pushed his brother away. They were both breathless. Dayton slumped to the ground. He felt as if he'd jogged an entire marathon. Fritz acted before Dayton even registered anything had happened. The younger boy fit easily through the narrowly opening door. He dropped to his knees besides his fathers discarded clothing.

“Dad..” he wept openly, clutching the material to himself, while curling into a fetal position. Dayton swore under his breath, and rushed to grab at his brother. But the machine did not react to them. Not even when the elder brother picked up the dropped firearm. He had only used it in practice before, but knew enough to handle it with some confidence and safety.

“Come on, Fritz! Come on!! There's nothing we can do for him now.” He drew his brother back out the door which Dayton had jammed open with a bit of firewood their dad had stacked behind the shed. The old pot-belly stove in the kitchen was a wood burner.

The metallic sinews around them finally reacted as the boys exited the shed, by crushing the door closed, and sealing it off. No amount of force would open it now. Fritz was still crying, holding the majority of their father's uniform in his youthful hands. Dayton was too frustrated to join his brother, even as upset as he felt.

What could they possibly do now? They had wanted to wait for Clay to return to formulate a plan. That idea had now lost them their father. Dayton was kicking himself for falling asleep. If only he'd been able to stay awake.. but then again, that might not have changed much. He decided that first things needed tending to first. Fritz needed to be put back to bed. Then Dayton could start making calls. His father was missing, after all. Surely that could be used to rouse some action. There was no way he was about to just tell people that there was an alien here.

Predictably, Fritz was obstinate. He wanted to help, not sleep. Only by making a solemn swear to wake him in the event of any news would Fritz agree to even rest his eyes on the couch. Dayton made a list of the places he should call in what order.

Work was the most obvious. That would begin to establish a timeline. Simple half-truths generated the sufficient curiosity in each location he called. “Have you seen my father? He isn't home. I woke expecting to see him, and he was supposed to be here an hour ago. Yes, his car is here..” After dad's office, Dayton called various all-night venues Clay would occasionally frequent. A bar, a couple of restaurants, even his work buddy.

Eventually, Dayton felt he'd caused enough local stir that it was time to call the police. The man on duty was Will Buxby, and when Dayton mentioned the car and the abandoned clothes, the officer agreed to come by, though he explained he couldn't file a missing person's case for 48 hours.

It was nearly an hour before Buxby showed. Dayton was quiet, listening as the shed had begun whining again, but seemed to be quieting down now. Fritz sleepily roused himself as the cop rolled up before Dayton could get around to saying anything to him, but in a hushed voice gave his sibling some final instructions as the cop approached. “Remember. He needs to find it on his own. If we tell him, we'll just sound crazy. Understand?” Fritz just nodded, while trying to rub his sleep away.

“Officer? Thanks for coming. I'm Dayton, and this is my brother, Fritz. I don't mind saying.. we've both been kinda shaken by this thing. It's never happened before. We're worried about him.” The elder boy shook the officers hand, and Fritz followed suit.

“I understand, boys. But I'm only here as a courtesy, seeing as you're both minors. You said you found his clothes?” Fritz ran to fetch them from the couch. “Hmm..” said Buxby as he took them, feeling their underside, then flipping them over. “Why are they so dirty?”

Dayton was expecting that. “We found them outside. In a pile on the ground. Like he just left, and dropped them. Fritz called out to him, but there was no answer.”

“Huh. Where was this?” Will stood with his back straight. His keen senses detected something more was going on. These boys weren't saying everything for some reason.

“Over by the shed. It's closed up tight, though.” Said Fritz a little too eagerly. He was impatient for this part to be over.

Buxby frowned. Now he was suspecting some kind of wild goose chase. Maybe a prank of some kind. He placed the clothes on a nearby chair. “Don't touch these again till I say so.” He said, pointing at his created pile. “Show me the shed.” For now, he decided to play along, but if this was some stupid joke… Well, there were worse things, but he for one would be less than happy.

Sure enough, the doors were sealed up tight. He sighed as he turned to the boys. “Alright? So how do you know he's not in there? Maybe he's sleeping one off. He's pretty regular at Josie's Bar, you know.”

“I called Josie's. No one's seen him. Not all week. Besides, that's only his place on days that he doesn't have work the next day, and Dad's scheduled again for tomorrow. Also, he doesn't get smashed like that. He drinks at Josie's because it's a cheap ride back here in a cab if he needs it, but he usually doesn't even drink that much to begin with. Just ask the staff. One or two drinks over several hours is all. Anyway, here, look. These doors lock with keyed padlocks on the outside, which aren't attached. This door should open.”

At that moment, open is just what the door did. Clay poked his head out, looking a little miffed. He stepped completely through the doorway towards the stunned trio, closing the door deftly behind him. Most of him was bare to the world, as he wore only his socks and shoes, the few clothes Fritz hadn't grabbed. The naked man covered himself somewhat poorly with one hand.

“Officer.. Buxby? I believe? Boys? What in the name of all realities is going on out here?” His gaze flicked rapidly between the cop on his property, and his boys, who were unconsciously trying to move away from him.

Buxby raised an eyebrow at Clay's state of undress, but elected to not comment on it. “Excuse me, sir. It seems your boys were having a bit of fun at the expense of our city, including the police force. They've apparently called most everywhere claiming that you had disappeared, or never showed. I'm not sure quite what prompted all this, but if you can reasonably assure me that they will face immediate and proportionate ramifications, then I must admit that I'm inclined to leave at once, and be done with this little.. palaver.”

Clay shook his balding head emphatically at every word coming from the policeman's mouth, and agreed wholeheartedly to the proposed solution. However he was visibly disappointed when he offered his hand that the officer did not go to shake it. Buxby simply shook his head, turned around, and determined to treat himself to as stiff a drink as he could muster after his shift was over. He muttered to himself as he climbed into his car. “Some people…” and hoped that this would be the last he heard of this particular family for the foreseeable future.

Clay stood with his hand outstretched a bit too long after the cop turned to leave. It wasn't until the officer had pulled away from the neighborhood that the naked man turned his attention to his boys, both of whom stared at him with looks of shock and confusion. He sighed. “You saw. In there. Didn't you?”

The brothers nodded in unison, and edged a little further back. Clay paused, casting his head down in thought. “Well..” he finally said, “It's not something that's easy to explain. So I completely understand if the two of you don't trust me.”

“You were in that.. that thing.” Dayton stated. He held his younger brother's body protectively behind him. His eyes never wavering from this creature before him.

“Yes. Yes I was.” Said Clay simply. “So was that woman that came out before. There's a few more that are still in there. Don't worry. I won't try to grab you. If you touch me, I promise that you will not disappear.”

Fritz snapped. He shouted and stomped his foot in a sudden burst of rage. “Shut up! You shut your stupid mouth. That's our father's face you have! Our father's voice. How dare you use it!! Give it back! I don't care what you promise. Give back our father now, or I swear we'll kill you.”

Dayton was startled at the outburst, but regained his posture. His other hand now gripped and withdrew the pistol he'd hidden inside his coat pocket before the police came. He'd used the hallway mirror to make sure it didn't show a bulge. “That's right. You can keep your promises to yourself. They're useless to us. Not after what we've seen. So here's what we're going to do. I'm going to give you instructions, and you'll obey them, or I'll shoot you. But first things first. We need information. Back yourself up, spine against that wall. Fritz? I need you to go inside for some stuff. I need strong rope, dad's restraint zip-ties, a handkerchief, some duct tape, and some cotton. You got that?”

Clay looked disappointed as Fritz ran off. “Really, you're both overreacting. I may have gone in that “thing” as you call it, but I am still every bit your father. Ask me anything. I can prove it to you. No? Not even going to try? Alright. How about this? That statement you said earlier. “We need information.” Well that's rule two. Rule one comes before that for a reason, Dayton. Are you being kind?”

Dayton shed his first tear since this whole ordeal had started. “No. But neither are you. Are you? You. That thing. The woman. From the moment we saw that space rock, our guts said “This thing is bad news.” I gotta say, not-dad, I've seen nothing to show me anything but that we were right.” Clay just shook his head in disappointment.

Fritz returned with a basket filled with the items requested. He had the whole thing perched precariously on top of a metal wire chair. “It'll make securing him easier. Especially since we can't risk touching him.”

“Oh, would you both stop.” Clay said with a huff. “This is ridiculous. You are not tying me naked to a chair. You want answers? Fine, I can give them to you. But like I said, it's difficult to explain. This “thing” is not your enemy. Just give me a chance to prove it. I can take you to a warehouse.. it's not even that far.. I can show you what it is. What it wants. We can bridge this chasm.”

Dayton cocked the gun. He pointed straight at the impostor. “Sit in the chair, or die.” Clay did as he was told. It took some doing, but the boys tied not-dad down, and bound his limbs.

“You know, if the rock form had the ability to rearrange the whole makeup of the inner shed.. well then, these bonds aren't worth the material they're made of.” Whispered Fritz once they'd bound and gagged not-dad. They even plugged up his ears, though Dayton wondered if it was limited to human senses.

“We'll just have to hope that if he's capable of that process that it'll take time to happen. I'm more concerned about the woman still out there. I think they're communicating in some way, which means she may come here.” At Fritz's confused look, Dayton explained. “He wanted to show us a warehouse. How would he know where it was unless she, or some other one of them relayed the information to him? Which brings me to the last problem; not-dad said there are already others that will come from the sphere, and if that's true, and the process takes a consistent amount of time, then we'll have another one to deal with in less than fifteen minutes, because he took about an hour, and it's revving up again.”

“So we have no idea how many of these things could be out there, how many people they've taken, and therefore who we can even trust?” Said Fritz flatly.

Dayton had pulled his multi-tool from a pocket. He always had it handy. He tried not to think about the fact that it had been the last present from the real Clay. The knife blade was flicked open and wiped off, only to be used to prick one side of a finger to draw blood. Fritz raised his eyebrows in surprise.

The elder brother just smiled. He picked at a bit of exposed skin on Not-Dad, instigating an angry bit of struggle. Dayton grinned wider, pointing at the injury. “I got the idea from last night's scary movie.” The alien blood was also red, but it looked synthetic.

“I think it's time to call Buxby back. Don't you?” Dayton asked Fritz, as he pointed the gun at a young girl who was just emerging from the Shed. “Oh, miss. You'll be dead if you try anything. My brother and I are going to truss you up with dear ol' dad, here. Won't that be fun?”

He ignored her as she pleaded that she “Only wanted to be friends.”

Buxby had been a mere twenty minutes from the end of his shift. Twenty minutes! He had seriously considered convincing a junior cop to take the call in his stead. But his name was already on the case documentation, and it'd look too shoddy to leave it hanging, especially this close to his next review. He'd just have to make the visit quick. But he brought along the rookie to have someone to drop the rest of the paperwork on for later.

He found the younger boy waiting for him in the early dawn light. The child pointed behind the mobile home. “Hey. Took you long enough. We're running out of chairs.”

Buxby and the rookie rounded the homestead to find a mind-boggling sight. There were three people. Bound. Naked. Sitting in chairs, blindfolded and gagged. The father of the two boys was the left most, while a young woman and a large obese man completed the lineup. All while Dayton lounged on a lawn chair, a gun sitting out in the open on a table nearby.

Seeing the cops Dayton raised his arms skyward, and stood, making sure to keep well clear of the gun. “Careful. It's loaded. But I've unchambered the barrel for safety.”

He offered his arms to the officers for cuffing. The rookie went to reach for hers, but Will waved her away. “Wha.. you.. You boys want to try to.. would you care to explain.. all this?” He indicated every strange and stranger thing before him.

“Sure.” Said Dayton cheerily. “But first, this.” He motioned Fritz, who turned on a winch that Will hadn't noticed until now. To be fair, his attention was heavily diverted elsewhere at the time. It was an industrial grade system on the back of a flatbed tow truck and plow that Clay used during winter seasons, when the need for security was minimal.

The boys had carefully rigged the cable all around the shed, and were using one large branch of the nearby sturdy oak tree as a pulley. The walls gave way with a terrible screech that sent everyone's nerves right to the edge from the intolerable irritation.

But the result was spectacular. An impossible and unfathomable monstrosity of a mechanism now stood irreversibly unconcealed for all to see, and the truth of its origin was obvious. For as surely as a human may see a railroad train, or an Apollo rocket, and recognize the work of the hands of their own species, so it is that upon viewing the result of an alien will, we would know it instantly to be of minds other than us.

Will nearly stumbled when he next stepped, and all but fell into the lawn chair that Dayton had been occupying. He secured the gun professionally, but his hand shook after removing the clip, and settled the disarmed piece back on the table. He finally turned towards the imprisoned people. “So what. They're somehow connected to… to that?” He asked incredulously. He noticed each had a bit of off-seeming blood drawn from different parts of their exposed bodies, most of which was being covered now by Fritz, who was tossing sheets over the bodies, each individually chosen to accommodate it's intended occupant.

Dayton showed off his own real blood. “They're copies of some kind. I think.” He pointed at the large one. “They've been trying different tactics to gain our trust, though this one tried intimidation. I think they're possibly made from the component materials of the humans they resemble, but even worse is that they retain all the memories of each victim, though the personality feels slightly different. At least for dad. I don't personally know the other two. None of them have been forthcoming.”

“There's at least one more of these copied people that we know of.” offered Fritz. “An attractive woman. She's the one that copied our father. She touched him for less than a second, skin to skin contact, and he vanished like he'd never been there. This copy of him emerged from the sphere an hour later. He's mentioned a warehouse he wants to show us. We think that wherever it is, it might have more of these spheres inside, which means there could be even more copied people.”

“This whole structure took it about eight hours to form from the inside of our shed.” continued Dayton. “Before that, it was a rock-shaped floating thing with a glowing tip that chased us home from up the hill. That's everything that really happened yesterday. I want to apologize for any deceit inherent in our previous statements, officer Buxby.”

Will again waved this sentiment away. In a time like this, as if there ever was such a thing, such trivialities become irrelevant. “I.. I don't know what to say, boys.. I.. I think I've got a few calls to make.”

Just then the mechanical whine began again. The winch strained under the added pressure exerted by the many tendrils of the device as the whole ensemble came back to life. The five stepped back in sync. “Another faux human is about to emerge!” Warned Dayton.

The man was huge. Angry. Ridiculously strong. He pounced from the sphere as it opened with a snarl, glaring angrily at the assembled party around him. He bellowed and charged. At least 300 pounds of pure rage and adrenaline inside a meat suit of rippling muscle. The rookie barely could get out a warning before the brute was upon her. She disappeared mid “Halt!”.

Buxby fired. The bullet hit the beast's body, but the wound appeared to barely phase the hulk, who charged again. Two more rounds went off before the cop had to dive out of the way, but the large man didn't even flinch. He barreled straight on, stampeding towards his intended targets, his bound comrades. With a low growl, he made short work of the bonds, and then acted as a human -or rather, an inhuman- shield against the continued barrage of gunfire from Buxby.

The behemoth dropped at last, just as the officer finished unloading his second clip, but it was too late. The three captives had all escaped, including not-dad. Will gasped for breath. He had only discharged thrice before in the line of duty, and never before towards a lethal finale. It was a quiet community.

Or it was. The tremendous disturbance of gunfire in the early hours of dawn had sent the whole neighborhood into a state of panic. News reporters appeared as if by magic. Most of the precinct of law enforcement arrived. The mayor herself made an appearance. Despite the ruckus, Buxby was able to hide the boys away from the worst of it, all while making those ever more difficult phone calls.

One would think it would be easier to convince the higher powers of the government that yes, indeed, there were aliens, and that immediate and urgent action was needed instantly, if not earlier.

While slow to wake, nothing disparaging could be said for the might of the hammer that fell upon that trailer park once the federal government arrived. Officer Buxby, the boys, half the town, and the dead replica body were all put into separate quarantine labs. Then the whole of the property was entrapped in a large hermetically sealed tent.

Very serious people gave everyone very serious interrogations. A “no-go zone” perimeter was built overnight encircling the maximum calculated distance that the first not-person woman might have traveled. Every warehouse in the area was ransacked top to bottom. Twice. All to no result.

It was, to say the least, not a fun experience for the brothers. But at least they were allowed to stay together for the most part. From what little Dayton could overhear, it seemed that the duplicates were childishly easy to detect except for the surface appearance. Mass, material, even heart rate gave the imitations away (This last part was learned when the copy rookie emerged). Despite the circumstances, he found that he couldn't help but worry about his dad, despite the fact it was no longer really him. Fritz did not share this feeling. Even bringing the facsimile up in conversation got the junior hot under the collar and resulted in a violent outburst. Dayton wondered if it was even possible for the two of them to ever heal. Whether they had overlooked something within the nightmare. Now it was too late.

Eventually, as days turned to weeks, then a month and a half, with no additional leads appearing, the tents began to be moved, and resources were redeployed. The brothers had an uncle, Tony, from their mom's side of the family, who flew in to take custody, and handle the legal affairs. By the time the guys made back to their home, there was little left of it, or the official response teams either.

The remains of the property were in ruins; the entire area where the shed once stood had been removed, leaving a huge crater in the ground, while the mobile home itself had been trashed by the processes of the investigation. Not even much left to take.

Uncle Tony came in one last time to stand with them. He bowed his head in respect. Then taking a knee, he lowered himself to his nephew's eye level, and looked them square in the eyes, first one then the other in turn. “I know you both have been through a lot. Through more than most could even understand. I know you miss your dad, and you're grieving. But I want you both to know, I believe you are both the most brave, and capable, and devoted set of siblings I have ever come across, and that's saying something. So I don't want you to worry. If you two can handle this, there's nothing you can't do. I promise you both, that great things lie ahead, even if it doesn't seem that way. Life can be good again. You'll see. Things are going to change, and you'll be happy.”

Tony put forth his hand, palm down. “All for one, guys!” He smiled. Fritz looked embarrassed, but complied, placing his hand on top of the much bigger one of his Uncle. Tony turned to face the elder of the two. “Come on. What can be good again, buddy?” Dayton rolled his eyes at the corny gesture, but couldn't hold back a small smile as his hand joined the others. Tony put his other hand on top, making a sandwich.

In an instant, both boys were gone, as if they had never been, two sets of empty clothes dropped uselessly to the floor. Tony stood, still smiling. “Life.” He said. Then walked alone out the door.



The End