After April and Vlada left for the evening, I needed to clear my head. I had to have a break from all the emotions, from the drama, from guessing whether I was psychic or whether I just had weird dreams. There was one thing I knew that could make me feel better immediately. Stewart.
I popped in the cartridge and started playing. It was the old Stewart, the game I grew up playing. His sly face appeared on the screen, calling me along, the red spiky hair bobbing along. Like the old days, Stewart winked at me and spoke to me. Nothing else mattered. I was clearing levels, moving with the cute fox, running along with him, winning.
Hey, hey, hey, a life. A life, Jimmy. You know what it is? It’s what happens while you’re waiting for moments that never come. I heard Lester’s voice in my head. ‘Yeah, whatever.’ I thought and kept on playing. I wasn’t waiting, I wasn’t making the same mistake McNulty had made. I was living in the moment. Stewart and I were both in the moment, living it up and gearing up for the next level. And the level after that.
I completely lost track of time and then heard a loud noise outside. A car door slammed shut. There were voices. The sound of footsteps approaching. I tensed, but then recognized Sergei’s voice. A moment later, the front door opened, and my brother appeared on the doorstep.
“Hey, bro, you’re still up. We brought pizza.” Before I had a chance to ask who was ‘we’, Tammy popped into view.
“Hey, Tammy,” I said, getting up and putting my console to the side.
“Hi! We just had a double date.” Tammy said proudly, throwing an adoring look at Sergei. “Come in, guys.” She called to someone and at that moment I froze. Kate walked inside. The very Kate from the Lab, a blonde bob haircut, small blue eyes, a button nose. The arched eyebrows gave her face a look of perpetual condescension.
“Hi, I’m Kate.” She said, extending her hand to me. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”
“Hi. I’m Rodion. Sergei’s little brother.” I cleared my throat, trying to sound casual.
“I’ve heard so much about you.” Kate said. “Sergei won’t shut up about you!”
“How do you guys know each other?”
“Tammy and I are best friends.” Kate flashed a smile.
“Yes, we are!” Tammy let out a giggle.
“Oh. Okay.”
“And I’m Ben.” A guy popped into view. It was no other than Ben from my vision. He was of average height, with red freckles spread thick on his face. Ben was dressed in a t-shirt with the Carnegie Mellon logo. He extended his hand and gave me a firm handshake. “You do look familiar.” Ben examined me. “Do you go to my gym, by any chance? Over in Shadyside?”
“No.” I shook my head.
“Ben, no one needs to hear about your gym. Come on!” Kate threw her hands up in frustration.
“Just like no one cares about your yoga studio.”
The real Ben and Kate interacted much like the two of them did in my vision. Bickering. How is that possible? I did my best to avoid openly gawking at them in an attempt to compare reality with what I’d seen.
“We’re just gonna have some pizza and head out.” Kate said, taking a seat at the table first.
“No, Kate, we might wanna hang out.” Ben frowned.
“Alright, guys, come on,” Tammy came in, carrying paper towels. She had insisted on making sure Sergei and I had them at home. “Let’s eat. Wanna join us, Rodion?”
We sat around the table, and I took a seat next to Sergei.
“Did you hear about Phil?” I asked, serving myself a slice of pizza.
“If you live like a dog, you will die like a dog!” Sergei said in Russian, biting into his slice.
“What are you guys talking about?” Tammy asked from across the table. Though she never spoke Russian, she understood it. “Who died?”
The whole table suddenly fell silent. Three pairs of eyes were on us, watching Sergei and me intently.
“Just someone we used to know.” Sergei shrugged and continued chewing. “You know how the Russian community is all about gossip.”
“Oh, yeah.” Tammy let out a giggle. I felt her eyes zeroing in on me, as if to verify this information, and I made sure my expression was inscrutable.
“Are you a gossipy Russian?” Kate turned to Tammy.
“I’ve been here since childhood!” Tammy protested. “I’m American.”
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“Just teasing.”
“I think you’d fit right in with those gossipy Russians.” Ben furrowed his brow at Kate. “All you do is gossip!”
Kate said something in protest, Tammy rushed to her friend’s defense, and more bickering ensured.
“Hey, Sergei, what happened to Mama’s urn?” I asked my brother, grateful that my voice was being drowned out by the loud chatter on the other side of the table.
“Aunt Lena came and took it with her to Moscow.” Sergei noted casually.
“Wait, what?”
“Yeah.” Sergei pushed his plate to the side and wiped his face with the paper towel. “I wanted to come with her, remember? But we’d need to renew our passports, it was such a hassle.”
I had no recollection of this ever happening.
“When was this?”
“A few months after Mama’s death. Aunt Lena came to help us and took the urn with her. She said she could figure out a way to bury it in our family plot. Knew some guy who did gravestone design, and he had connections.”
“So did we ever have Mama’s urn?”
“We did, for maybe like a few months.”
“And the knife?”
“What knife?”
“The one with my name on it. Remember the one from our grandfather?” I tried to keep my voice from trembling. The special knife dedicated to me, the knife passed on from my heroic grandfather to me, couldn’t just disappear. Was it also somewhere in Moscow?
“No idea.” Sergei shrugged. “I think when we moved to Vlada’s, it might have gotten lost.”
“But I remember seeing it.” I threw my hands up in protest.
“Sorry, bro. Why are you talking about this now? Is it because of Phil’s death?”
“I guess so.”
“Forget about that dude. Seriously.” Sergei shook his head. “Good riddance.”
***
Several days later, the day after Labor Day, I headed to the Lab. It was the first day of my job and my stomach was in knots from anticipation. The offer from The Lab didn’t come in a fancy package, and wasn’t delivered by DHL, but rather was a simple letter, my address hand-written on an envelope.
The offer was generous, but not over the top. Sergei reassured me it was reasonable and commensurate with my qualifications (none) and level of education (high school).
“But I’m supposed to be doing secret research!” In my head, I was already negotiating a higher salary.
“I don’t know where you get these ideas. I’m sure April’s dad is just being nice, offering you a job. You should be grateful.”
“I am grateful. But I wish I got paid more money!” I remembered my dream, the incredible salary, the savings. Why couldn’t that be true? Was it a script that would never be turned into a movie?
“So just wait and see how things go.”
I was almost sure the Lab would be in a mansion on Forbes avenue, just like in my dream, but it was in one of the large, non-descript office buildings on Carnegie Mellon Campus.
I guess Ben and Kate won’t be there. I thought, opening the large doors. I entered and saw an empty reception desk. Right above it hung a bulletin board. I stared at the various ads. Tutoring services, student clubs, groups. One paper caught my eye. It was orange with black text and an image of a fox in the corner.
Are you ready to step into the spotlight? Looking for students to join our cast for this exciting production of ‘The Little Foxes’! All are welcome! For more information, contact Dawn M.
Could it be the same Dawn? I wondered.
I checked the time - I was early, but that was a good thing, according to Sergei. It was important to show commitment to my new job, and coming early would be a sure sign to demonstrate just that.
The made my way to office 135, just like the letter said, opened the door and entered. It was a large space with an open space layout, several desks with computers, large screens buzzing. A few programmers sat behind those screens, absorbed in their work.
It was completely unlike the creepy Lab, and did not look like a place where someone would lock me in a basement, feed me sandwiches and conduct experiments that would require mental evaluations and oxygenation training. Where AI would overtake my brain and manipulate me into making bad decisions.
“There you are!” Chuck McPherson walked over, extending his hand. “Great to see you again, Rodion. Thanks for coming with us to Philly to drop April off.”
“Hello, Mr. McPherson.”
“Please, call me Chuck.” He walked over to his desk, which stood in a corner right next to the window and I followed. “Please, have a seat.” He pointed to a chair. “Now, did April tell you anything about the work that we do here?”
“No.” I shook my head.
“Well, have you heard of this pioneering technology? It’s called ‘a digital double.’” April’s father rubbed his hands as his eyes sparkled. “It’s ground-breaking.”
“A digital double? Like a replica?”
“Yes, exactly. Is there a movie out there with this stuff or something? There’s always stuff in Hollywood that, I swear, predicts the future.”
“No, I just guessed.”
“Well, that’s excellent. So, Rodion, we’re going to be testing a digital double. An replica of you that will make decisions in a virtual world. And then using real-world data to make it happen. The digital double will be your exact replica, a copy of yourself, a digital doppelganger, so that whatever the double does can be accurate and reflect perfectly how you would operate in the real world.” Chuck’s voice trailed off, and he stared at a distance dreamily. “One day, we’re gonna use this technology to do incredible things, Rodion. We’re going to go to Mars. Heal people. Technology and real life will work together seamlessly.”
“Good morning, Chuck.” I heard a throaty voice coming from behind me. I recognized it right away. The last time I heard it, it threatened to erase my memory.
“You must be Rodion. I’m Maria.” A woman wearing enormous high heels, bright orange sandals stood right next to me. Her hair laid in thick curls on her shoulders. I stood up to shake her hand, scanning her face for signs of recognition. But her expression was neutral. Please don’t be a shrink. Please don’t be a shrink.
“Maria is our admin,” Chuck said. “Keeps me on the straight and narrow.”
“Oh.” Maria threw a look full of adulation at Chuck and flipped her hair back. “Speaking of which, did you happen to give him the NDA?”
“No.” Chuck frowned. “Forgot.”
“No biggie!” Maria produced a clipboard with a paper on it. “I need you to sign right here. And here.” She tapped a manicured finger twice and handed the clipboard to me. “We do top-secret research here, Rodion.” She said, as she watched me read over the paper. “Need to protect ourselves from a potential liability.”
“Yeah. It’s kinda like ‘Fight Club.’” Chuck turned to me. “Have you ever seen the movie?”
I nodded. I knew where this was going.
“Remember Rule Number one of Fight Club?” Chuck flashed a smile, watching intently as I signed my name on the NDA.
“You DO NOT talk about Fight Club?” I said with enthusiasm. I wanted Chuck to like me.
“Exactly.”