Yeah, yeah, I know the title is a bit corny. This story takes place sometime not long after Nemesis. All characters (except for Chris Olson, who is a confabulation of a couple of classic car buddies of mine, and truckdriver Clem Reynolds) belong to Vince Suzukawa. Nothing here is intended to infringe on Vince’s copyright and work.

Mirror Mirror

It was a dark and stormy night. Kevin grinned as the thought crossed his mind, and he concentrated on driving on through the driving rain, the windshield wipers keeping time with the music that the university radio station was playing.

"It can’t be sunny and clear all the time, I guess," said Denise from the seat beside him. "Even here in sunny southern California."

"Yeah. I just HATE getting wet. And I hate having to drive thirty miles a freaking hour. At least we’ll be on the highway soon."

"I don’t know about you, Kevin, but I think it’s time well spent." The vixen reached over and patted him on the knuckles as Kevin’s hand gripped the steering wheel. "Dinner was wonderful. Even if we did have to go halfway to Sacramento to eat it."

"Oh, hush. It wasn’t anywhere near that far," corrected Kevin. "True enough, good barbecue is hard to find, but there’s tons of places near Demontfort where we could have eaten. But they wouldn’t have had the atmosphere that "Grandmaw Charlene’s" has."

Denise wrinkled her nose. "Atmosphere, huh? Well, I guess that’s one way to say it. Ooh! Our exit is coming up!"

"I see it." Kevin muscled his way into the right hand lane so he could make his exit. "Besides, we’re grown-ups now, Denise. We’ve probably already tried just about every kind of food that we can reasonably expect to eat on any kind of recurring basis. Since neither one of us cooks for ourselves that is." Denise nodded in agreement as their turn came up, and Kevin was finally able to increase his speed once he was on the highway. The rain and wind increased as well, but the couple failed to notice it. "So, I try to eat in different types of places now. You know, the fancy restaurant, the juke-joint, the country store, the corner deli, the outdoor café, the-"

Suddenly, the world outside disappeared, and Kevin could no longer hear himself speak. The storm had suddenly intensified, or at least their small portion of it had. The rain dropped visibility down to effectively zero, and it was beating relentlessly against the roof of his SUV. Kevin felt his steering wheel jolt in his hands, and the entire vehicle shimmied for just a moment as the tires broke free of the road surface. The engine revved, since the drive wheels were essentially freewheeling.

Hydroplaning. Crap. Better let off the accelerator, thought Kevin to himself. Kevin eased up on the throttle somewhat, and the tires found their purchase again on the road surface. That’s when the wind gusts really started to pick up, though. The SUV wasn’t slowing down quickly enough to suit Kevin. "I think we’ve got a bit of a tailwind, sweetheart!" he shouted to Denise, who was clutching her armrests.

The highway crested a rise and began a long curve downhill and to the left. A rather steep hill, in fact. To make matters worse, the rain had intensified, if such a thing were possible. "Kevin, I think we’d better pull over!"

"Oh, it’s just a little rain, I can handle it," quipped Kevin nonchalantly, even as he lifted his foot entirely off the accellerator and tightened his grip on the steering wheel, and signaled to anybody else unfortunate enough to be out in this that he was indeed going to pull over to the side and sit out the storm. "But for you, sweetheart, I’ll go ahead and pull over, since it makes you feel be-" Kevin cut off in mid-sentence.

"Kevin! What’s wrong?" shouted Denise over the increased din the storm was making. Motion on the hood of the SUV caught her eye. The rain was bouncing off the hood in little arcs… wait… rain wasn’t supposed to do that… "Kevin, hail!"

Through his hands and feet and seat of the pants, Kevin knew just when the wheels climbed up and started surfing across the top of the water coursing across the highway. The truck was now a Newtonian object, and there was nothing Kevin could do but hope that the wheels would bite again soon so they could get STOPPED for crying out loud!

They were skidding right towards a tanker truck that had pulled over to wait out the storm. Kevin made out the red diamond through the rain and hail reflecting his own oncoming headlights. Kevin couldn’t make out the words "Flammable," but he knew they were there as well. Kevin futilely pumped the brakes and turned the steering wheel. Onwards they slid, directly towards the tanker truck. There was nothing he could do. They were going to hit. The rear end of the truck was looming larger every moment.

"Kevin…"

"Denise…"

The couple reached out a hand to the other and they clasped hands tightly. The same thought was going through their heads… that they didn’t want it to end this way.

There was a brilliant flash of light and a deafening explosion as lightning crashed, striking the ground mere feet from the two colliding vehicles. The last thing Kevin saw before he shut his eyes were the words PETROCO, illuminated by the lightning. Then neither one of them saw anything else.

* * * * *

Denise and Kevin woke up at about the same time, feeling bruised and battered, only seconds after the collision. There had been a collision… hadn’t there? Both had laps full of airbag, and bruises where their seatbelts and shoulder straps had dug into them, preventing them from "interacting" (as the SUV’s owner’s manual put it) with the dashboard and windshield. "Are you okay?" they both gasped at the same time as the rush of adrenaline coursed through their systems. They each just stared as the other nodded blankly in response. Neither of them knew who giggled first, but by the time the first people reached the SUV, they were both laughing hysterically.

* * * * *

The rain had slacked off sufficiently, and Kevin and Denise got out of the SUV. Denise had to crawl out through the driver’s side, since her door was pinned shut by the rail they had finally fetched up against. Kevin flicked on the flashlight that he kept in the glove box, playing it over the front of his SUV. In the light of the flashlight, and with the rain coursing off of it, his SUV didn’t even look the right color, but Kevin was only interested in mechanical damage, not optical illusions. His driver’s side rear view mirror was gone, and there was some light body damage to the passenger side where they had sideswiped the rail, but it was nothing that a good composites shop would have any trouble fixing. The tire being bent at the funny angle, however, was another thing entirely. "We’d better try and get a ride. Maybe that trucker can give us a lift, if we catch him before he leaves," said Kevin. He played his flashlight back up the incline towards the truck. The light made a beam in the still falling (albeit more gently) rain, and he could see the ripped up earth that his SUV tires had made as they had left the road near the parked tanker truck.

"Looks like we barely missed meeting our destinies there, eh, Kevin? Must’ve been a wind gust at the last moment."

"I think we still hit the truck… at least, I’m missing the mirror on my door. Hrm. Wait. Is that even the same truck?" asked Kevin. "I coulda sworn he was a tanker for Hydroco."

"Maybe it was the fear? Of the moment and all," said Denise as she snuggled close to Kevin as they walked in the drizzling rain. In the distance, the thunder rolled.

* * * * *

"Thanks for stopping. We really appreciate it," said Denise

"Glad to help," replied their driver, Chris Olson. Chris was an individual in his late 40’s. Once it had been determined that they were okay, the small crowd of helpful people conducted a poll to see who was going in the general direction of home for the couple. Chris’s car was a late 1960’s fullsize automobile, with what sounded like an enormous engine in it. He had even gunned it they passed by where the Hydroco tanker truck was still sitting as they left. "I’m just glad you kids are okay. How’d you end up off the road like that, anyway? Lose your navigation?"

"Um… we hydroplaned. Thought we were gonna hit the tanker truck," explained Kevin.

"Yeah, and a gust of wind pushed us the rest of the way over, so we missed the truck and wound up against the rail," continued Denise. "Your car is very nice indeed, though. I just love these old cars."

"Yeah, they don’t make ‘em like this anymore," lamented Chris. "You can adjust everything on here, from the fuel and air jets to raising and lowering the windows. Nowadays, though, everything’s electric."

"Yeah, I got power everything in my SUV, too," commented Kevin. "But I’ve got some ideas on how to modify things a bit to get some more oomph out of her."

"You, or your girlfriend?" joked Olson, laughing. Denise gave Kevin a withering glare.

"Ehm… ah, that is, my car of course. I’d like to put a supercharger on it."

"Well, that’ll certainly help you get farther," replied Olson. "Wanna hear about a REAL engine?" Oslon blipped the gas pedal for effect, briefly pushing Kevin and Denise into their seats.

"Sure!" they replied, glad that Olson was still being a careful driver in the miserable weather. For the rest of the ride back to Demontfort, the old car enthusiast and the two engineering students discussed engineering and racing and driving powerful old cars.

* * * * *

Clem Reynolds watched the pair leave down the sidewalk towards campus, in the rain. He regretted that he couldn’t drop them off closer, but there was no way he could navigate his tanker trunk through the campus. Besides, he had a full load of regular and premium still to deliver to some of the gas stations in town. They seemed like a really nice couple. They’d probably go far, he expected. Clem had never heard of "materials engineering for anti-matter propulsion" or "Von Neuman engineering," but they certainly sounded impressive. He was glad that they hadn’t careened into his trailer full of gasoline, back at the highway. He still remembered how pitiful and bedraggled they had looked, walking up to his truck out of the darkness, alone and soaking wet. It was another stroke of good fortune (the first being that gust of wind that had rocked even his truck and altered the little SUV’s trajectory) that he was headed the same direction as they were. Clem turned back to the road, checked his mirrors, and eased his semi truck gently into gear.

Kevin thought it odd that some of the night lighting was out when he and Denise got to the third floor of Richter Hall, but not nearly as odd as the fact that the elevator was out of order, and commented on it to Denise. "You know what MTBF means, Kevin," she replied. "Given enough time, EVERYTHING will fail."

"Hopefully not our relationship, dear," said Kevin, squeezing her hand.

"Well, hopefully our sigma value will be such that we shouldn’t expect failure within five or ten times our life expectancy," replied Denise.

"I can live with that." As Kevin hugged Denise, Danielle’s door opened, and she walked… no… stormed over to Percival Kingston’s room. Rather than holding her signature handheld, she was carrying a spring-action clipboard. But that wasn’t as strange as what happened next. When Percival opened the door, Danielle’s clipboard came hurtling downwards, smacking him squarely on top of the head. To Kevin and Denise’s shock, Percival reeled, and staggered back into his room. Danielle turned around as if nothing was amiss, and was even HUMMING as she went back to her door.

"Danielle… you… you HIT him!" exclaimed a dismayed Denise.

"Yeah. He had it comin’ too. After what he said on the res-hall mailing list," replied the petite mouse. She looked at her wristwatch ("Where did she get that?" wondered Kevin) since the hall clocks had long ago ceased functioning. "Keep in mind visiting hours," said Danielle meaningfully as she looked at Kevin and Denise.

"Ah… right. Sure, Danielle. Uh… see you later," was all that the puzzled Kevin could say. He opened the door of the room that he shared with Tony and Eric, and hustled the equally puzzled vixen inside.

* * * * *

"Kevin, wasn’t Dani acting a little… well… strange?" asked Denise when they’d gotten inside the dark dorm room. Obviously, Brad and Tony were out. "She’s usually so… intense. She was downright, well…"

"Pleasant. Yeah. Weird. And since when did she start carrying around a palmtop? She’ll never be able to brain anybody with that," replied Kevin. "And I can’t turn the lights on if I can’t find the… switch," finished Kevin as the fluorescent lights overhead flickered to life. "I must have bumped it…"

"Kevin… Did Brad and Tony rearrange your room or something? Or get new furniture?" asked Denise.

"Uh… Something isn’t right, Denise." The room was indeed nothing like he had left it, and nothing like what Denise was familiar with seeing on her visits to Kevin’s room. "We must be in the wrong room. This isn’t our stuff." Kevin waived an arm at the comfortable-looking yet unfamiliar college-guy-furniture.

Denise opened the door. "303, Kevin. And your key fit the lock. And that’s Brad’s rotary phone right there on his desk."

"But where’s my stuff!?! My anime wallscrolls! My computer!" exclaimed the stricken cat. Something beeped over on the far wall on Kevin’s desk… or what should have been Kevin’s desk.

"That’s peculACK!" gawped Kevin as Brad and Tony walked in, both wearing workout sweats and carrying gym bags. Even Denise was taken aback.

"Well, if it ain’t the lovebirds. Y’all are back early, ain’tcha?" asked Brad.

"B-b-b-Brad… your.. hat…?" was all Kevin managed to stammer.

"What about it?" The jayhawk walked over to closet, opened a box, and pulled out a big black cowboy hat. "What about it?"

* * * * * *

"I… I think I’m gonna be ill…" wheezed Kevin, supported by Denise. He felt like he had barely escaped with his life when Eric had suddenly attacked him. Had Tony not moved to restrain Eric, enabling Kevin to escape…

"I don’t get it… I thought you two were friends?" said Denise as she hunted for her Javelin. The rain on her glasses, and the wreck, and bizarre behavior of her boyfriend’s alleged friends must be affecting her, because she couldn’t see it in the parking lot anywhere.

"I know… I just asked him why he was wearing that silly baseball cap when it must be hard on his comb. It’s like he’s become a Mental Defective or something." Kevin winced where one of Eric’s wild punches had connected with his ribs. "I just don’t get it. This whole night has been so darn crazy."

Denise listened. "I think it gets worse, dear. I can’t find my car. But I’m sure I parked it right here." She fished out her keys and pressed the locator button on the fob, but the little Javelin didn’t respond from anywhere in the parking lot, either. "And why are the lights not on out here? I can barely see a thing!"

"Well, let’s call Al," said Kevin. "He can give us a ride to your place. We’ll call AMC from there and have them disable your car, just in case it really HAS been stolen." Kevin pulled out his worldwide and selected the entry for Algernon Tuscano. All he got was a "Service Unavailable" window on the soft screen. "Mine’s not working. Try yours."

Denise pulled out her own worldwide from her jacket, and separated it like a little scroll. The soft fabric in between also said "Service Not Available."

"I don’t think this is our night, dear," she said.

"I’m soaking wet, I’m cold, I’ve wrecked my truck, you’ve lost your car, and now one of my best friends looks like he’s a candidate for Mental Reconditioning, and Danielle isn’t looking much better either. I wanna go home. I want you to come with me… my folks won’t mind putting you up for the weekend."

Denise squeezed Kevin’s hand. "Yeah… maybe that’s what we need. This has just been too stressful. Let’s head over to the Student Union and you can call your folks to come get us."

Dejected, the couple walked through the incessant rain.

* * * * * *

Kevin and Denise looked at each other, and at Brad. The big jayhawk continued. "You missed out on a really good squash game, Kev. It wasn’t the same without you." The big Texan settled into his chair and put on a pair of glasses, and muttered "screensaver…. Oooh…."

"Denise… I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore," said Kevin with a strangled voice. Denise shrunk up against him, as if for protection.

"Kevin…. I’m scared… what’s going on?" said Denise as Tony was looking at the couple with a quizzical expression.

"I think I know, Denise. Uh, Tony… we’re best friends, right?"

"Of course, Kev. Since middle school. What’s on your mind?" replied Tony as he sat down on his bunk.

"Do you remember the brainfax incident?" continued Kevin.

"Uhm… no? You know that AI isn’t my field. I’m more inclined to meatware." Denise was almost hiding behind Kevin by this point.

"Have you told… ah… have you spoken to Cindy lately?"

"Of course. All the time. If she didn’t have that decanting to attend to, we were gonna double date with you and Denise. Remember?"

"Oh. Of course. That explains it. You must have told Cindy how you felt a long time ago… and so the brainfax never happened to you! I see now!"

"Dude, are you okay?" asked Tony, looking puzzled.

"Um…yes and no, Tony. I wrecked my truck, back on the highway. We hydroplaned, and smacked the guardrail but good. I think I’m just a bit rattled is all." Denise immediately recognized that her boyfriend was hiding something.

"Are you sure? You don’t need to go see a doctor or something? Get checked out? I’m sure they could give you something to take care of the stress… it’d calm you down."

"Ah… I’ll just say no," said Kevin. "As a matter of fact, I think Denise and I are going to head over to the Library."

"In person? On a night like this?" exclaimed Tony.

"Uh… well, it’ll be more deserted then!" Kevin grabbed Denise and hugged her meaningfully. "We’ll make a late-night study date of it. Right Denise?"

"Oh, sure! That sounds lovely! That’s my Kevin… uh, nice to see you guys, again!" Quickly, the couple left, and headed down the brightly lit hallway of the third floor. "Kevin, nothing is making any sense… I’m beginning to wonder if I’m not in a coma or something, back in your truck."

"Wait," was all Kevin said, as he stopped in front of the elevator. The third floor hallway continued onwards beyond the stairs… where there should have been a blank wall. There was no "Out Of Order" sign on the elevator, either. He pressed a button experimentally. After a few moments, the elevator went "Ding!" and the doors slid open, revealing an empty elevator.

"Kevin… there’s no way they were able to fix the elevator that fast… they hadn’t even started on the repairs… and the hall….?"

"I know. Look." Kevin pointed, and Denise stared at the buttons for floors 4, 5, and 6.

"No," was all she could say.

"Let’s find out." Kevin swallowed, and pressed the "6" button. The doors closed, and there was the unmistakable sensation of "going up" in an elevator. With eyes wide, and backing away a little from the panel of the elevator, they watched the numbers flash by… 4…. 5… and finally 6. The door chimed, and opened into another perfectly normal hallway. The sights and sounds and smells were different, but there was a great big "6" painted on the opposing wall with "Welcome to the Penthouse" written beside it. Kevin jabbed the ground floor button to shut the doors on the impossibility before him.

"Okay, Kevin… what’s going on? This is Richter… but it isn’t. Are we in the Twilight Zone or something?"

"Close, dear. I think it’s a brainfax. It happened once to Tony. It has to do with the "many worlds" hypothesis of quantum mechanics… but it’s not supposed to work at macro scales."

Denise nodded. "I know as much if not more QM as you do, bucko. Now what about Tony?"

"Well, I think we’re both about to become experts. Here’s why. Tony was transported to an "alternate universe" once. And the alternate Tony was transported here. Well, not "here" but home. Our home universe."

"Kevin, that’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard!" exclaimed Denise.

"Crazier than three and a half floors being added to my dorm inside the space of a few hours?"

"Point taken."

The doors opened into the lobby, and they walked nonchalantly by other residents and headed outside, into more rain. "Go on," said Denise, once they were safely out of earshot.

"Well, it seems that our Tony and the alternate Tony were both thinking the same thing at the same time, very strongly. There’s a theory in psychology that is trying to tie consciousness to quantum mechanical effects, but that still doesn’t explain the macro-scale transportation of two entire beings… but I digress. Somehow, you and I must have been thinking the same thing very strongly as our counterparts from here were. Hence, we brainfaxed."

"Okay. So, how did you solve the problem?"

"We had to get them both thinking the same thing again. Presumably, our alternate selves are reacting the same way we would, as are our alternate friends’ selves."

"Then why are we running from your friends?"

"Because something isn’t right. We don’t know what kind of world this is. Hence the trip to the Library. I mean, what if littering is a capital offense here?"

"Well, they seem technically advanced… I assume that was their version of a computer that Brad was using…" said Denise.

"But did you here what Tony said about going to the doctor? And taking some kind of medicine for the "stress?" That isn’t like Tony… and he said it so matter-of-factly."

"Okay… I see your point. So, theoretically, our alternate selves will be doing pretty much the same things we are? Going to the library, researching the world we’re living in, and trying to figure out a way to get us all home?"

"I hope so. I’d like to think that I’m my usual resourceful likable self in all universes," replied Kevin.

* * * * * *

Kevin and Denise wandered through the bookstore, after they had been unable to contact Kevin’s parents. Her own lived too far away to be of much help.

"Denise… this isn’t right. They’ve rearranged everything. I can’t find a thing. And what the heck is an "Inspirational" section? Or "New Age?" When did they find time to do all of this?"

"There’s the computer section," said Denise, and the couple made a beeline for it… and stopped short.

"Where’s the Commodore stuff?"

"Um… is that it? No, wait, that’s just some kind of programming language called "C." What’s Windows? Macintosh? What?" Denise started picking books up at random, making sure that what they were looking at wasn’t misshelved home improvement or some other kind of books.

"No… these are computer books… but not like anything I’ve ever seen," stated Kevin.

"Kevin… look at this…" Denise walked over to the nearby section labeled "History." "Look at all these books about wars… When was there a war in Vietnam or Korea?" She kept following the shelf… it was a very large section. "World War? Two of them?" Kevin picked up a book titled "This Century in Pictures."

"This can’t be right… There hasn’t been any kind of armed conflict since the Age of Reason started, and the Zealots were finally defeated. Three hundred years ago. This has to be some kind of military fantasy fiction section."

Denise looked over his shoulder at pictures of unlikely vehicles and machines of "modern" warfare… a term that was an oxymoron! But there they were… planes and ships and some kind of land vehicle, all bristling with some sort of weapons. There were even explosives dropped from planes as "bombs" and delivered via rockets! "Kevin… these are photos… This looks like a real…" The girl’s voice trailed off when Kevin turned the page to a new chapter titled "Death Camps of Germany," with a facing page of a mass grave.

Horrified, Kevin kept turning the pages until Denise slapped the book out of his grasp and burst into tears. "Kevin… oh, Kevin what’s happening?!? Where are we?! It’s like a nightmare I can’t wake up from!" The vixen sobbed as she tried to hide in Kevin’s embrace. Kevin looked around, wondering if violent ideological death was going to come walking out from behind a bookshelf for them at any moment. "Kevin, I want to go to a doctor… I’ve got to get CLEAN… I want to wake up!" she sobbed.

"Denise… I think I know what’s going on… this isn’t our world. This is some kind of nightmare version of it. It must be… The people here probably live in fear for their lives, every moment… a wretched existence. But we’ll find a way home, sweetheart. I promise. I’m just glad we couldn’t reach my folks… what if they’re crime lords or zealots or mass murderers or something?"

"But what do we do, Kevin? We can’t trust anyone in this awful place…"

"Maybe there is a way. If we can figure out a way to get a message out, back home."

"We’re in some kind of nightmare evil parallel dimension, Kevin… we can’t exactly send an electronic message to our friends."

"Hrm… maybe we can, Denise. I think I know who we need to contact."

* * * * * *

"Do WHAT?!?!" exclaimed Denise as she and Kevin thumbed through elementary school social studies books. It was fortunate that this universe’s University Library had a special Children’s Library section for the Library Sciences majors. Kevin and Denise had tried to use the voice activated goggles that passed for computer interfaces, but had given up, due to the sheer alien-ness of the system. Hence, their choice of the Children’s Library section.

"Hrm?" said Kevin, engrossed in a text on outer space. Apparently, space exploration had gotten started back in the 1920’s in this universe, with Von Braun and Goddard. The physics and science had come together sufficiently, and without two world wars… There were small settlements on the Moon, Mars, and the asteroid belt, lightsails and nuclear rockets opened up the inner solar system, and antimatter rocket probes had been launched back in the 1970’s to the nearer stars, and were even now sending back terabytes of data about the new starsystems. Yes, Kevin was engrossed indeed.

"It was like the Inquisition in reverse, Kevin! Crossed with the Reign of Terror! Check it out! They stamped every significant religion three hundred years ago! By force if necessary! And they took over the governments… the world is administered by the United Nations of Earth, here. And they use drugs and brainwashing to keep people in line!" Denise was filled with revulsion. "They can send you up the river in this place for believing in ghosts and monsters and fairies and dragons… and art and literature have to pass a Content Review Board…"

"But… but look at what they’ve accomplished!" said Kevin, showing Denise a blue and white planet. "It’s another world… just like Earth! That green’s GOT to be life! We’re not alone! We got off this rock in this universe!" exclaimed Kevin.

"But look what it cost them! Their souls, Kevin! They don’t have dreams… they have goals. Or "engineering milestones" more likely. And their free will… freedom! If anyone rebels against the government here, it’s off to the Re Education Center!" Denise shivered.

"Yeah… but still. No wars. Prosperity. World peace and plenty of food and energy for everyone…"

"At the expense of everyone who ever had faith in things that lay outside of the Scientific Method, Kevin. The arrogance of anyone making such a decision… we can’t KNOW if there is no God, Kevin."

"I know… I know. I think it’s the price we pay for freedom, Denise. We let people find their own path, back home… and it leads to enormous conflicts and waste of resources, and even death. They’ve got a very good handle on peace and prosperity for all… at the expense of being allowed to think for themselves, apparently. It’s like Huxley’s Brave New World or something."

"Kevin… if we’re here… what about our alternate selves? How do you think they’re faring back home?"

"They’re probably fine. They probably caught on to the switch even faster than we did. And remember, Tony and Brad remember the first brainfax incident, so they’ll have a precedent to go by."

"But what about culture shock, Kevin? Crime and violence is just a part of life, back home. As is war and want," asked Denise.

"Oh, it’s not like we’re in a war zone, or anything like that, back home. Sure, there’s parts of town you don’t go to after dark, but big deal. They’re probably safer than we are, Denise… I’m afraid of getting hauled off to a Re Education Center, and getting the Clockwork Orange treatment." Kevin shuddered.

"Okay… so, we’ve got a handle on what sort of world we’re in, at least. I’ve got an idea on how to get a message to our alternate selves," said Denise.

"You’re joking, right?" said Kevin, incredulously.

"Nope. If you’d keep up with the physics journals as well as Video Games Monthly, you’d know."

"You’re talking about quantum communication with other universes? But that’s impossible. Information can’t flow between Everett worlds."

"Travel between two Everett worlds is also supposed to be impossible, Kevin, but here we are. Besides, all matter can be broken down into bits of information at the quantum level. We’re just the vector sum of our quantum wave-equations."

"Uhm… point taken. But we’re just second-year engineering students, Denise… the bigtime researchers have been trying to detect or communicate with alternate versions of themselves for a long time now. How are we going to succeed where they have failed?"

"Well, we’ve got one thing going for us… we know it’s possible. And maybe these folks have some insights that we don’t back home. Let’s try again and see what’s in their physics journals."

After an hour of inspired hacking and helpfile reading, the couple was better able to navigate strange computer system. They had chosen an out of the way carrel, and were both scanning the various journal archives.

"Guh!" emitted Kevin.

"Hmm?" said Denise as she lifted the goggles out of her way to see Kevin. His jaw was hanging slack as he stared off into space… or into the virtual display of the goggles.

"Check this out! Quantum Transmission of Information Between Everett Worlds by M.B. Hopkins and R. Spottiswoode!"

"No… No way…"

* * * * * *

Kevin and Denise walked to the nearby apartments where Ryan and Michael lived. "They’re both physics majors. I figure that between the four of us, we can get something figured out," said Kevin as they walked glumly through the still drizzling night. Denise pressed close to him, afraid of whatever nightmare dangers lurked in the shadows of this awful place. For his part, Kevin kept his hand on his worldwide… it wasn’t much of a weapon, but its sturdy case should do at least some damage to a would-be assailant.

They finally arrived, and rang the doorbell. It was getting pretty late, and the lights were out. After a few moments, the outside light came on and the door was opened… by a very athletic white tigress in a short robe.

"Uh… sorry, we must have the wrong address," said Kevin. "We apologize, ma’am."

"Could you tell us where we could find Michael Hopkins and Ryan Spottiswoode?" asked Denise. "We… uh.. we heard they lived somewhere around here."

"…" was all the tigress could manage. She opened the door further, and motioned for them to come in. She yawned, turned, and walked into the small kitchen.

"Should we follow her?" asked Denise.

"Well… it’s wet out here, and dry in there. Maybe she’s offering to let us use her worldwide?"

"And the fact that she’s a total babe has nothing to do with it?" she said, tersely.

"Maybe just a little, sweetie. C’mon." They made their way into the apartment, closing the door behind them.

The tigress was fumbling with some sort of appliance. Kevin and Denise stood and watched, and the kitchen soon was filled with the familiar aroma of coffee.

"Did I hear you say you were looking for Ryan? And Michael? Michael Hopkins? The kangaroo?" she said at last, pouring herself a mug of coffee. She held the carafe towards Kevin and Denise.

"No thanks, ma’am," said Kevin. "That’s right. You know them?"

Their host looked at them as if they had both sprouted tentacles. "Uh… hang on." She cleared her throat. "Ryan! Get up! We’ve got guests!" she shouted towards the bedroom.

Kevin and Denise looked at each other, and waited to see what happened next. Obviously, something was different here in this universe, and they waited to see what the latest bizarre change was.

The dalmation trudged up the hallway wearing a pair of sweatpants and an old tshirt. "Well well well… Mr. Nekohashi. And our little aviatrix Ms. Reddenbacher. To what, praytell, do we owe the pleasure of your company on this fine, beautiful evening?" He took the mug of coffee that the tigress offered him, and took a sip.

"Oh, great! You know us! I was worried for a moment there," said Kevin. "Ryan, Denise and I need you and Michael’s help. It’s kind of involved, complicated, and somewhat unbelievable. But we need your help."

"Mine… and Mikey’s?" said the dalmation, taking yet another sip of coffee to clear the sleep from his head.

"Uh… yeah?" Kevin said. Why was there always a question mark after Michael’s name with these folks?

"Oh, I have got to hear this," said Ryan, leaning against a counter. Kevin stared as the tigress leaned into Ryan and casually wrapped an arm around him.

"Uh…" he said blinking. "Right. Okay. I’m Kevin Nekohashi, but not the Kevin Nekohashi that you and Michael know. And Denise is not the same Denise that I introduced you to that time. Uh… if I introduced you to her. To make a long story short, we’re from another reality. This isn’t our world." Kevin swallowed.

"Is this your revenge, Kevin? Is this the best you could come up with for what went down between your roommate and I? You come over here to wake us up and act crazy in our kitchen? C’mon, man, I’d’ve given you more credit than that." For her part, the tigress just looked at them, coldly.

"Ah… I’m serious, Ryan. I don’t’ know what you’re talking about. We’re from another universe, and we’ve come to you and Michael for help. Where is he, anyway?"

"How should I know! I don’t keep up with that insufferable kangaroo!"

"Then… you and him aren’t… living together in this reality?" asked Denise.

The tigress barked out a laugh, and kept laughing as Ryan drew himself up and glared at the couple. "I’d suggest you two leave. Now." He looked at the tigress, and decided she was still laughing to hard to throw them out… he’d have to do it himself.

"No! Wait, please!" shouted Kevin as the angry dalmation approached them. "I’m serious! I don’t know what’s going on, but where we come from, you and Michael live together and do research projects together. Physics. We don’t mean any harm! Please!" The girl started laughing even harder, sinking to the floor, tears coming from here eyes.

Ryan looked at Kevin, and didn’t see an ounce of guile in his body. He looked dead-serious. "Kevin… have you been drinking? Watching too much anime? Hitting a crack pipe?"

"No… this isn’t our world, Ryan. It’s like ours… but it isn’t. And this one scares us. We wanna go home," said Denise.

"I think that’s what you both need to do. Go home and rest. I don’t know what kind of drugs you two are on, but they must be good ones indeed."

"I wish we had some narcs, yes," said Kevin. "But my supply is back home… in the other universe."

"Suuuure it is. Michelle, do you think you can drive these two back to Richter? I don’t think they’re really in an any condition to drive," said Ryan.

"We can’t drive anyway… I wrecked my truck," said Kevin. "We walked."

"On the drugs, no doubt," said Ryan. "Okay, while Michelle gets dressed to take you two back to campus, I wanna know something. You two BOTH seem to be sharing the same hallucination. Lets see how consistent it is. This should be amusing." He picked up a notepad from the kitchen counter, and motioned them to sit at the table. He placed a piece of paper and a pen in front of each one, and sat down himself. "Now then. I’m going to prove to you that you’re both hallucinating. There’s no WAY you could both have memorized every detail of a made up universe, so you’re making it up on the fly. I want you to both write down the previous three Presidents of the United States. No peeking."

Aggravated, Kevin took the pen, and began writing on the notepad, without even looking at it, but glaring at this hard-to-get-along-with version of Ryan Spottiswoode. When they had both finished, Ryan looked at them.

They were identical. He’d never heard of them, but they were both identical (although Kevin’s handwriting was difficult to make out). Of course, they could have both matched the real previous three Presidents, which would have also been inconclusive.

"Feh. Proves nothing. That’s an obvious one if you’re in cahoots. Let’s try something that is pretty trivial that you’ll both know, but won’t know that you know, that is likely to be different in "your world" than this one." Ryan was smiling, enjoying getting to take advantage of two drug-addled friends of his arch enemy. "There may actually be other worlds, maybe even with alternate yous living in it. But I don’t see any reason for things to be identical that are based partially on chance. Lottery numbers, sports scores… heck, even your phone numbers. What are the odds that whatever mechanism is in each universe would assign the same number? At least, in universes as different as the real one and your delusional one. So, write down your own phone numbers, and the others phone number. The N-number belonging to Denise’s helicopter. And the score of the last Demontfort/Forrest game." Ryan crossed his arms smugly, and listened to his fiance getting ready to take these two tripping geeks home.

They both finished shortly, and looked at him just as smugly as they handed in their piece of paper.

The phone numbers were in the wrong format… but they matched. The next line on both notes said the Denise didn’t own a helicopter, she owned a VTOL with another wrongly formatted ID number… and they both matched. And the football game scores also matched, with the Griffins over the Droids.

Ryan looked at the pair, now suddenly unsure just what was going on. They couldn’t be from another universe… information couldn’t travel between Everett worlds, as Ryan well knew, although it was possible to teleport single photons within a single universe. But how had they both gotten the same answers, if they were both on some kind of bad drug trip?

Kevin reached into his pocket, pulled out his worldwide, and slid it across the table to Ryan. "There. Do you have these here? Mobile communicators and data access devices? We call ‘em worldwides."

"Uh… like a cellphone?" said Ryan as he gingerly picked up the strange device. It looked just like an ordinary piece of personal electronic gear… same grey plastic and rubberized buttons. It opened up like a scroll, though. The fabric was a color display screen! Ryan watched as animated icons moved on the wrinkled surface of the soft screen. Experimentally, he touched an icon, and a list of names popped up.

"It’s touch sensitive, as well as voice activated," said Kevin.

Michelle returned to the kitchen. "You two ready to go?" she asked.

"Hang on, Michelle… these two aren’t going anywhere, yet. Can you make some more coffee? Tell me more about your world."

"Will you and Michael help us?" asked Denise.

"Hang on a second. So in your world, Mikey and I live together? Not Michelle and I?" Michelle stifled a giggle. "Hey, I’m sure they just mean roomies," he said to Michelle. "We were friends a long time ago."

"T-" began Kevin.

"Bzzzt!" shouted Ryan, pre-empting the cat. "Roomies. That’s all we are in your world. If not, you’d better lie convincingly, or you’re never gonna get home."

"That’s what I was trying to tell you… just roomies," said Kevin very evenly, keeping any trace of sarcasm, double meaning, truth, or fiction out of his voice.

"You mean they’re telling the truth? They sure sound nuts," said Michelle.

"I think they may very well be, honey. You guys don’t know that Michelle and I engaged… and if/when we find a way to get OUR Kevin and Denise back, they won’t have found us out either. Here, it’s a secret. And we’d like it to stay a secret for a while longer. So yes, we’ll try to find a way to send you home, as quickly as possible."

"Thank you, Ryan," said Denise.

"Don’t mention it. I have a reputation to uphold as an evil genius here. I’ve got a long running feud with Mikey, and your friend Tony got mixed up in it. Now, tell me all about your world. You two can sleep here tonight, by the way."

The three talked long into the night, and into the morning (Michelle quickly grew tired of all the big scientific words that they were throwing around, made up the hide-a-bed for their guests, and retired to her and Ryan’s room), whilst Ryan took copious notes. He assured them that he’d find a way to send them home, starting in the morning.

* * * * * *

Mikey cooked breakfast the next morning, and it smelled delicious. "Wow… this is great, Mikey!" said Kevin. "Back home, you’re a health-freak! In addition to being Ryan’s mortal enemy!"

"Sounds like your world’s Michael is real hard to get along with," said Ryan.

"Oh, like their world’s Ryan is any better. He tried to blow alternate-me and alternate-Anthony up in the chemistry lab," countered Mikey.

"Ah, but he carefully arranged it so that they wouldn’t be injured. At least he thinks of others," said Ryan.

"Well, our Mikey thinks of others… but usually he shows it by preaching to everybody and telling them what to do. Constantly," said Kevin.

"I don’t think I’d much like to live in their world," said Ryan. "Too much violence and death and want."

"Well, we’re not exactly thrilled to be here either," said Denise. "To us, your peace and prosperity is at the expense of spirit and dreams. And no small amount of civil liberties, too. How did that movie go, Kevin? ‘It’s like an evil Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood?’ "

"Darn right!" exclaimed Kevin. "As happy-happy as this place is, we don’t wanna be here. And our other selves definitely don’t want to be there, by the sound of things. So, how do we get home? What’s the idea you spoke of last night?"

"We’ll need to borrow some lab equipment. This is really ideal… an amazing breakthrough, actually. You two represent proof of our theories on information interchange," said Mikey. "Well, not a proof of the theorem themselves, but of the practicality. Also, we k now that you are both closely enough linked that you can think almost the same thing at the same time as your counterparts. We can use that as a key to encode changes in some captive photons, and to decode the changes in another set of photons."

"I don’t think I follow you," said Kevin.

"It’s like key encryption, Kevin," said Denise. "We use our own choice of random letters and numbers act as a key. We encode a message by running the key and the message through an encryption algorithm. There’s another algorithm to turn ciphertext back into plaintext by using the key."

"Exactly," said Ryan. "But in our case, we’re going to change the spin and polarization of photons to represent the ciphertext. That will be our transmitter. Our reciever will be a duplicate unit that will let us read the polarization and spins of its photons. If we plug in your key, and if the alternate yous have chosen the same key, then we should get the message from your alternate selves back."

"But doesn’t the machine have to exist in both universes?" asked Denise. "Us and alter-us have to be working on the same photons for it to work, I thought."

"Yeah," said Kevin. "And if consciousness is quantum mechanics based, who’s to say that the atoms in my hand and those of my alterself’s hands are actually the same atoms? What if we both had a different diet growing up? You are what you eat, after all… and if you don’t eat the same thing as your alterself, are you really the same person? On the atomic level?"

"I think I see where he’s going," said Mikey. "He may be hinting around the reason our experiments have failed. Maybe the atoms in the units aren’t the same in the other universe’s units. We can only communicate with an already split-off universe, according to our theories, which is less likely to be extremely similar to our own."

"Yes, but consciousness is a quantum mechanical effect, remember," said Ryan. "If, instead of using a box with a dozen carefully isolated photons that we hope exist in another universe with copies of ourselves running the same experiment, we instead use two minds that we already know exist here and there!"

"Of course!" exclaimed Mikey. "I’ll get the computers… we can set up in the living room!"

Kevin and Denise watched while the dalmation and the kangaroo became a blur of activity.

* * * * * *

Ryan pulled up the Naval Observatory’s website, and called up the atomic clock applet. "This way, we’ll be sure to get you and your doubles synchronized."

"Okay. We’re coming up on noon local time. Surely my alternate self will hit upon the same synchronization method. What should we concentrate on?" said Kevin.

"Well… what’s the most logical thing? The accident? Some event during childhood?" asked Ryan.

"How about prime numbers?" replied Denise. "Say, the first ten. They’re nice, clear, concise concepts, and will be known to all of us. The SETI searches were looking for prime numbers, before they were all shut down."

Ryan looked up from the laptop. "SETI was shut down on your world?"

"Of course. What’s the point? The odds of actually receiving a signal are negligible. The resources were better spent somewhere else," said Kevin.

Kevin and Denise spent the time remaining until noon talking with Ryan and Michelle about the differences between the two worlds, and the alternate versions of themselves and their friends. To Ryan and Michelle, the other world sounded like a soul-less dystopia, albeit a prosperous one. To Kevin and Denise, however, the world they found themselves to be in was an insane, violent caricature of itself, where entire populations believed impossible things, and resources were wasted on a constant basis.

The time finally came, though. "Michelle… Our Kevin and Denise don’t know about us, yet. You’d better go wait in the bedroom, in case this works."

"Fine. This twilight zone geek business is getting old, anyway. Lemme know how it turns out, hon," replied the tigress as she left the living room.

"Okay. Kevin, Denise are you ready? Concentrate hard. Think of nothing but the first ten primes in sequence, starting at exactly noon," said Ryan. "Clear your minds of everything else; leave only the purity of mathematics in your thoughts. It’s the only thing you can count of being the same between here and your home reality."

Kevin and Denise linked hands, and watched the laptop count down until noon, then they began chanting in unison, keeping time with the second hand of the atomic clock… "1… 2… 3… 5… 7…"

* * * * * *

"11… 13… 17… 19… 23…" said Kevin and Denise in Ryan and Mikey’s apartment, and started over again. "1… 2… 3… 5… 7…"

Suddenly, there was dizzying sensation, and a curious doubling sensation, but it subsided quickly.

Kevin looked up to see the dalmation hovering over him and Denise. "Are you okay?" said Ryan.

"I think so… what happened? Did I pass out? Denise?" The vixen was coming to, herself.

"Welcome home, you two," said Ryan. "You both fell unconscious for about half a minute. That must have been the brainfax, scrambling your systems."

Denise looked around. Familiar technology and pieces of her own culture were all around the apartment. "Yes! Thank goodness! Thank you, Ryan. Thank you so very, VERY much."

"Yeah, yeah, I gotta reputation to uphold. Just remember, it was me that got you home, not that flea-bitten kangaroo. In this world, at any rate," continued Ryan.

"Heh. We’ll remember. Thanks, Ryan," said Kevin. "We’ve had a helluva trip… we’re gonna walk back to Richter now."

"Yeah, I’ll pick up my car and go home," said Denise. "I’ve got to get home and get some of the things we found out down on paper. We might can use it somehow, in this world."

"Okay. Well. You two be careful, and try not to fall into the Twilight Zone again, okay?" said Ryan as he walked the couple to the door.

"Yeah. We’ll try," said Kevin, and they headed out into the bright sunny day. The smell of polluted air (despite the recent rain, even) and the sound of distant sirens and police helicopters was a welcome sound. At least it wasn’t raining as they walked back to campus.

Ryan shut the door, and went back to the bedroom he shared with Michelle.

"So… did you tell him that his roommate tried to kill him in this reality?" asked Michelle.

"Oops. Slipped my mind, sweetheart," said Ryan evilly, and kissed her on the cheek.

The End