Ten Times the Trouble

[WP] Your superpower is the ability to create 11 clones of yourself. But you don’t fight crime, you live 11 different, secret lives. Last night one of you was murdered. If you don’t absorb the body soon, you’ll lose all the memories and the ability to recreate that clone.

*****

The small room echoed with the sound of quickened panting as I started to accelerate the rhythm of my breath. With each inhale, the smell of burning incense and sage sank deeper and deeper inside my lungs, and from there slowly navigated into every inch of my body. As I felt the familiar warmth expanding on my skin like an oil drop in water, I exhaled all the air at once and held my breath, halting all movements within me and entering the deep state of slumber which allowed me to sense the consciousness of all clones at once. With the breathing exercises done, I could probably hold that state for about three minutes.

Calmly I began to check in with the others one by one, knowing from first-hand experience that they would be aware of my touch on their mind. Even after sixty years, this state of trance was incredibly relaxing. Part of it was the breathing, of course – the memory from that one clone I sent studying medicine was still fresh in my mind – but mostly it was the awareness of doing something so supernatural, so incredible, to live eleven lives at once, to be reborn each and every time a new clone was generated. Call me boring, but I find it much more comforting than going around the world and having dramatic fights with supervillains. Leave that to people with better powers. Plus, reabsorbing the memory and knowledge of all these people can be…

Wait. Something was wrong.

I went back to check again on all of my clones, quickly this time, simply coursing through my consciousness to detect them all at once. None of them seemed to be in a state of danger.

And then it dawned on me.

Kaylin was missing.

A fear stronger than ever immediately replaced the warmth all around me. I had to remind myself not to panic during the trance, lest my body accidentally drew breath, receding the link. Calm, I thought, I must remain calm. I checked a third time, looking specifically for clone number 7, Kaylin. There was no trace of them whatsoever. Sensing a slight uneasiness in the other clones – probably a reaction to what transpired of my fear – and knowing the trance wouldn’t last very long, I conveyed to them a strong feeling of urgency and a desire to meet them in person. Then I gasped for air, forcing myself out of the trance all of a sudden and feeling the familiar warmth abandon my body.

Immediately the phone rang. I opened the case and saw the name and image of Mitch, clone number 11, created 16 years ago and who studied Gender Studies in Edinburgh. Sitting straight, I picked up and braced myself for a very awkward conversation. Mitch was not the easiest clone to get along with.

‘Sup, Goo?’ I heard my voice saying from the other end.

‘Listen carefully. I want you to…’ I stopped. ‘What did you just call me?’

‘Goo – Great Old One. Do ye like it? Feyer and I came up with the name after a CoC game.’

‘After a what?’

‘A Call of Cthulhu game. It’s an RPG thing. Seriously, Goo, you need to keep up, you can’t just call us once a month and wait till you absorb everything to know what we’ve been through.’

‘Listen. Listen. I don’t give a damn about all that. I need you to…’

‘Well get fucked then, ye clatty wee shite.’ And he hung up.

I gave a heavy sigh and searched in my contacts Jason’s phone number, clone number 2, a more reasonable one who worked accountancy in Germany. He answered almost immediately.

‘Hey Goo, what was that all about?’

‘Jason, Kaylin is… Jesus, please don’t tell me you’re ALL calling me Goo now.’

‘Eh? Oh yeah, it’s been around for a while. What did Kaylin do?’

‘Kaylin is missing.’

There was a short pause at the other end of the phone as I let the info sink in.

‘What do you mean, missing?’ Jason asked.

‘Dead, most likely. It never happened before, or at least not without my consent. They were fine yesterday, so something must have happened. Maybe someone is onto me – well, us.’

Another silence, this time longer.

‘Schaiße. Shit, shit, shit. Okay. What do I do?’

‘Tell the others they have to come to London immediately. You get on a plane, I’ll pay for everything. I need to absorb the body as soon as possible, so I can know what’s going on.’

‘Okay. Shit. Wait, listen, Kaylin is not dead-dead, right? You can always bring them back as you did with Ato that one time, no?’

‘Not if I don’t get them back first, no. If we can’t get to the body in the next 24 hours, Kaylin will be dead-dead. And likely more of us will follow.’

The static at the end let me know that the information was sinking in, and they knew then that there was a problem bigger than any of us had face, and it would rapidly spin out of control if measures were not taken.

*****

TO BE CONTINUED.