by A. J. Low
Uncle Saad and Tall Auntie Wendy looked at each other, then looked at Dad.
“Well…” Uncle Saad said.
“There was that one thing that one time… when you were in New York,” Tall Auntie Wendy continued. “I was sure that we shut everything down on time though.”
“It was confusing… Everyone was yelling, and there was a lot of smoke…” Uncle Saad said.
Dad’s eyes narrowed.
Just then the television screens flickered to life. It seemed like the police officers managed to figure out how to link the cameras with the television screens without any further assistance from Uncle Saad.
One screen showed the forest and the other showed the railway tracks. For a while, it was just the police officers walking around and waving at the cameras, testing them. Jimmy waved back. A short while later, the officers left and it was just the two images of the surroundings devoid of human life.
“There’s no sound,” Uncle Saad said. “But I think I can fix that.” He started tapping on his tablet once again.
Nothing happened for a while so we continued to eat our snacks while I tried to go into further details about the theory of multiverses, but I could see eyes glaze over as I started to talk about how we are limited by our inability to travel faster than the speed of light.
“Who’s that?!” Wendy suddenly exclaimed, jumping up from her seat and pointing at the screen.
We couldn’t see the figure’s face, but we could see that it was a man and he was walking at the railway tracks looking carefully at the ground around him.
We gathered in front of the television screen, watching closely. Officer Siva was on the phone ordering his men to head back to the tracks.
“It’s almost like he’s looking for something,” Nazhar remarked quietly.
The man on the screen bent down and picked something up. He seemed to have found whatever it is he was looking for. As he stood up, he turned and happened to look straight into one of the hidden cameras. There was a smile on his face—a face that was familiar to all of us. It was Uncle Saad!
“Uh… That’s…that’s totally not me,” Uncle Saad said, as he stared at himself on the television screen.
“I know,” Officer Siva said, gulping. “That’s a live feed.”
CHAPTER SIX
It was almost 4am and we were making the long trek back to the railway tracks.
Officer Siva’s police colleagues were already there and he received a call from one of the corporals at the scene. I thought it might have been Corporal Boey, but she was probably on the other side of town, still snugly asleep in bed—exactly where I wished I was.
Officer Siva put his colleague on speaker.
“Should we put out a notice to look out for this Mr Saad person, sir?” the corporal asked.
“He’s not Mr Saad! I’m Mr Saad!” Uncle Saad exclaimed, flinging his arms into the air. He looked genuinely upset. I couldn’t blame him. In fact, he was taking seeing another version of himself a lot more calmly that most people would. Tall Auntie Wendy had already excused herself and stayed in the office, saying that after being tied to a chair, she had had her fill of excitement for one night.
“He’s a Bad Uncle Saad!” Jimmy said. He was walking next to Uncle Saad, trying to be helpful. That was Jimmy’s way. He always tried to make everyone around him feel better. “Oh! I know! We can call him Uncle Baad!”
“Uncle Bad?” Eliza asked, wrinkling her nose.
“No, not Bad,” Jimmy said. “Baaaaaad.” He dragged out the As.
The corporal on the phone was silent for a while then continued without missing a beat, “Should I put out a notice to be on the lookout for Mr Baaaaaad then, sir?”
Officer Siva replied in the affirmative. He looked like he was trying his best not to burst out laughing. Even the actual Uncle Saad couldn’t help but smile.
I was becoming increasingly excited. I knew once the police had captured Uncle Baad that we would have definitive proof that alternate universes existed!
“I wonder why you were dressed like a ninja, Nazhar,” Wendy said.
“You mean a fake ninja, Wendy,” I said before Nazhar could explode into his speech about how ninja were actually not magical and did not have any superpowers as he often did.
“I don’t think we’ll be seeing an alternate reality Nazhar in our world any time soon though,” Eliza said.
“What? Why?” Nazhar asked, pushing his glasses up.
“Because he would get lost on his way here,” Eliza said, doubling over with laughter at her own joke. She laughed so hard she had to stop walking.
Nazhar made a face, but I noticed that he didn’t have a snappy comeback. Nazhar’s lack of directional skills were almost as legendary as Dad’s.
“I think the other version of myself would be a master of the Chinese language,” Wendy said, grinning. “Did you guys notice she was in the old-fashioned clothing that we see in those Chinese martial arts film?”
“I don’t think any version of you would be a master of the Chinese language, Wendy,” I said, smirking.
“That-Moran-and-Watson-were-just-asgoodlooking-as-we-are,” Watson commented. I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t help myself.
“Maybe I ought to trade you guys in for them,” I said. “Especially you, Watson. There can’t be another version of you that’s even less helpful than you are now. It’s just not physically possible.”
“I-have-a-perfect-memory. I-will-notforgetthis-the-next-time-you-ask-for-myhelp,” Watson replied. I grinned at my robot. I knew that despite all his complaining, I could depend on him in a pinch. Moran too.
“I think Watson would have taken over the world with an army of Watsons in an alternate dimension,” Eliza said.
Watson looked very pleased with that idea.
“I wonder if I am still beholden to Master James in another universe,” Moran said.
“I am sure you’re not, Moran,” Jimmy said. “We’ll always save you!”
Moran looked as pleased as a robot with a fantastic moustache could at Jimmy’s statement.
“Okay, kids. My people have swept the area and there’s no Baad there. Whatever that Baad guy took didn’t leave any trace evidence either,” Officer Siva said. He was off the phone. “They’ve left the scene alone so that we can take a closer look once we reach the area, Sam.”
I nodded. I was happy the Singapore Police Force trusted me and the Supper Club to investigate the area more thoroughly.
“Or we could head back home and sleep until daytime then come back and explore,” Wendy said, yawning.
“But I haven’t hit 10,000 steps yet, Wendy,” Dad said looking at his fitness device. “I’m a couple of thousand steps short.” He gave my sister a mournful look that made her giggle.
“Also, we haven’t had curry puffs from the 24-hour curry puff place yet, right Mom?” I asked as nonchalantly as I could.
“Alas, my very focused son,” Mom replied, grinning, “that’s back at Tanglin Halt Market.”
Foiled.
“But there’s a cafe called Colbar near the black and white houses, right, Auntie Kat? We should be passing it in a short while,” Nazhar asked, flipping through the Queenstown Heritage Trail guide book.
“Yes, there is,” Mom replied, looking at me with a twinkle in her eye. “I heard that they have a pretty decent breakfast menu.”
I wasn’t a fan of more walking but I was definitely a fan of breakfast. I did wonder at the mischievous glint in my mom’s eyes though.
We made our way towards the Colbar, which involved walking through more greenery that had Wendy swatting everything around her, claiming that she was being viciously attacked by insects that only she could see. Fortunately, instead of mushy wet fields, we were able to keep to the paved roads this time.
“So Colbar is actually really interesting, Sherlock,” Nazhar said, walking alongside me. I could sense him getting ready to go all history on us. It was his superpower the same way Jimmy’s was to
fall down and never get hurt. “Colbar is short for Colonial Bar and has been in business since 1953. Apparently, in 2003, they moved parts of the original building, like the roof tiles and timber doors, from the old site and rebuilt it where we’re headed to now.”
“Ooh. Like LEGO!” I said. “That’s very cool.”
We finally reached the Colbar and I figured out the evil glint in my mother’s eyes. The Colbar was closed. Breakfast would not be served. Foiled. Again.
“That’s evil, Mom,” I said.
“Note that I didn’t say that you would be able to eat breakfast right now, Sam,” Mom replied, grinning. “I merely said that they have a pretty decent breakfast menu.”
She was right. My mother should have been a lawyer.
“C’mon, guys! Let’s keep moving,” Dad called up from ahead of us. I had never seen him this motivated about exercise before. But my dad is all about data and numbers. I could see why his Walk-Man was an excellent motivational tool—Dad couldn’t help but be mesmerised by the constant tracking of his heartbeat and step count. It was data geek heaven. I was starting to reconsider my refusal to wear a similar device.
We hurried to catch up with Dad. Wendy was keeping up with Eliza and Jimmy, which was quite surprising. I supposed her Wing Chun training was improving her agility and level of—
Wendy took a swan dive into the grass and had to be helped up by Eliza and Jimmy. She shouted as she got up, “I’m fine! I’m fine! Don’t panic! It’s these pants! They keep tripping me!”
“But you are wearing shorts, Miss Wendy,” Moran remarked, earning himself a look of pure disdain from my sister.
I could see Mom’s shoulders shaking, but she wisely refrained from comment.
Out of nowhere, there was this horrible gurgling sound.
We all froze.
“What was that?” Jimmy whispered, spinning around to peer into the darkness surrounding us. The Supper Club, Officer Siva and Uncle Saad all swung their torchlights around trying to find the source of that terrifying sound. Even Dad who was ahead of us dashed back.
“I-recognise-that-sound,” Watson said.
I opened my mouth to make a comment, but my robot was too fast for me.
“That-is-the-sound-that-Sherlock’s-stomachmakeswhen-it-is-hungry,”
“No way,” Jimmy said, his eyes wide with amazement. “That’s so cool, Sherlock.”
“If only we could weaponise that sound, Sherlock,” Officer Siva said with a big grin. “It would strike terror in the hearts of our enemies.”
“Fine, Sam,” Mom said with a sigh. “Watson can give you one packet of Khong Guan biscuits.”
I grinned as Watson pulled out packets of biscuits and handed them out to everyone.
We continued snacking and walking towards the railway tracks when Eliza stopped and stared at something to the left of us. It looked like a giant tree with something hanging off it. She shone her torchlight in the direction of the object and gasped.
I immediately felt goosebumps rise on my arms and shivered.
Someone had tied a homemade bamboo swing from the lowest hanging tree branch.
“That’s so creepy,” Wendy whispered next to me. Dad gulped and nodded. He took hold of both Wendy’s and my hands.
I knew it was just a swing, and logically there was nothing to be frightened of, but I had watched too many movies and heard too many ghost stories not to be affected. I turned to look at Nazhar and even in the dim light from the torches, I could see that he looked pale.
Suddenly, there was a huge gust of wind and the swing started to creak and move.
“Argh!” Dad shouted and stumbled backwards, causing Wendy and me to jump and trip as he tugged us along with him.
The swing continued to sway with the breeze. And now, we could hear more sounds around us; sounds that definitely did not come from the tree or the swing. Or did they? It was almost as if there were hundreds of people standing around us whispering and groaning; muttering things that we could not quite understand.
“Wha— what’s happening?” Uncle Saad asked. He was frantically looking around.
Jimmy had practically thrown himself into Mom’s arms in terror. Wendy, Eliza and Nazhar were huddled around Officer Siva who was swinging his torchlight around trying to decipher the source of the terrifying sounds, but it was like they were coming from everywhere around us! We were surrounded!
Dad shouted, “RUN!”
We ran as fast as we could, but we could still hear the groans and whispers behind us, following us almost, getting louder and faster, right behind us.
CHAPTER SEVEN
We were gasping for air by the time we reached the train tracks.
I was quite certain there had been nothing ghostly about what we had just heard, but it was still extremely creepy. I was sure it had just been sound bleeding through from alternate universes, in much the same way the image of Lim Ban Lim had bled through.
“So… That happened,” Uncle Saad said, still doubled over and out of breath.
“Did-anybody-lose-a-shoe?” Watson asked, holding up somebody’s shoe.
Mom snatched it from him and put it on. “I was just running because your dad said to. I wasn’t actually scared.”
“Of-course-Mom,” Watson replied.
“Let’s focus on the case at hand and not blame anybody for anything,” Dad said, wiping his hands on his pants very, very carefully, making sure not to look at anyone.
“Yes, obviously this Baad person is not here,” Officer Siva said. “So we won’t find him.”
“But the cameras are still up,” Uncle Saad said. “Tall Wendy is watching from the office, and she’ll buzz me if she sees anything on the monitors.”
“That’s good, Uncle Saad,” I said, looking around. “Okay, I think we should partner up and look for anything that seems out of the ordinary. Uncle Baad took something from here, but maybe he left something else. The Singapore Police Force is letting us investigate the scene, so let’s not let them down.”
“Do you…do you really need to call him Uncle Baad?” Uncle Saad asked, looking pained.
“We raised very polite children,” Mom replied, deadpan.
Wendy and Eliza paired up and searched the southern area, while Dad and Uncle Saad took the north. Watson and Moran searched the east, and Officer Siva, Mom and Jimmy searched the west. Nazhar and I stayed in the central area and searched there.
After a few minutes, Jimmy shouted. I ran to him and saw he was holding a cube in his hand. It was the size of wooden alphabet cubes, but was a featureless black on every side.
Jimmy gave me the cube, and I inspected it more closely. The smooth black sides felt warm to the touch, and the black was shiny, like a screen or a lens.
“May I see it?” Uncle Saad asked.
I gave it to him and he turned it over in his hand.
“These are all screens,” he said.
“That’s what I thought too, but screens for what?” I asked. “And why would anyone make a cube with six screens?”
“Mike, take a look at this and tell me if you see what I see,” Uncle Saad said. He passed the cube to Dad, who also turned it over in his hand.
“Well, I’ll be…” Dad said. “We haven’t been able to get the circuitry this small.”
“Right?” Uncle Saad said. “And using all six sides, that’s brilliant.”
I wondered if this was what it felt like when I thought out loud and other people were trying to follow my thoughts. But surely they were talking about a device that allowed users to jump from universe to another.
“Would either of you like to let the rest of us in on what that is?” Officer Siva asked.
“Oh, yes, sorry,” Dad said. He held out the cube in his hand and said, “This is a holographic projector!”
That was not what I was expecting to hear.
“But smaller and more powerful than anything we’ve been able to come up with so far,” Uncle Saad said. “We won’t know for sure until
we get it back to the office and take it apart, but I think the recording is played through whichever edge is up.”
“How would it know which edge is up?” Wendy asked.
“I’m sure there’s a gyroscope in there, so it always knows which way is up,” Dad said. “It’s the same technology that’s in most smartphones nowadays. That’s how your phone knows which direction you’re facing when you use a map app.”
“But to cram not just one, but six projectors into such a small cube, powerful projectors at that, to have made such a convincing hologram and still have space for the gyroscope and whatever plays the recording…” Uncle Saad trailed off.
It was clear from the reverence in his voice that this was some pretty serious technology.
“Wait, so Lim Ban Lim and the police officers were just holograms?” Nazhar asked.
“Not just holograms,” Dad said, “but the most advanced holograms I’ve ever seen.”
“How advanced would you say it is, Dad?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t have expected to see this for decades,” Uncle Saad said.
“Well, I don’t know about decades,” Dad said. “I mean, this is possible thanks to miniaturisation mostly.”
“But it could have still come from an alternate dimension?” I asked.
Dad looked at me. “While I can’t rule it out 100 per cent, Son, I think the more probable explanation is that someone in this universe built it and used it to make us think alternate universes were bleeding into our own.”
“But if we don’t have this technology in our world, where did it come from?” I asked.
“Outer space?” Jimmy said.
“The future?” Wendy said.
“Artificial intelligences?” Nazhar said. “Besides our two robots, I mean.” He pointed at Watson and Moran.
