Replication

by Kevin Hardman

  “That’s over,” he announced with finality after a few seconds.

  “So you’re just going to dump her? After all this time?”

  Smokey tilted his head up, and his face took on a faraway expression, as if there were something in the distance that only he could see. Then he let out a pent-up breath and turned to me with a pained expression on his face.

  “She went out with another guy, Jim.”

  I blinked, almost sure that I’d misheard him. Sarah and Smokey had always been wild about each other. He’d even gone so far as to tell her that he was a super in order to maintain their relationship. And she had always seemed devoted to him. I’d spent a great deal of time around her, and never once picked up on the slightest indication that she was interested in anyone else. Ergo, Smokey’s statement came as something of a shock.

  Nevertheless, from everything I could sense, what he was saying was true. Moreover, I suddenly understood that the anger he’d exuded earlier hadn’t been directed at me, but at Sarah.

  Struggling for words of comfort, I blurted out, “I’m sorry, man. Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Smokey shrugged his shoulders. “I guess we just really haven’t had a chance to talk since you’ve been back. Plus,” – he glanced back to where Electra and the others were standing – “as you pointed out a few minutes ago, you’ve got your own issues to deal with on that front.”

  “It’s worse than it looks,” I stated, almost despondently. “There’s a chance Myshtal may have actual feelings for me.”

  “Wait a minute,” Smokey said. “Wouldn’t you have picked up on that – sensed something?”

  “Well, let’s keep in mind that despite how she looks, the princess is actually an alien. So, while I’ve become somewhat adept at reading their emotions, I’m not perfect.”

  “In other words,” Smokey summed up, “you had no clue.”

  I let out a weary sigh. “I picked up on affection, but I didn’t think anything of it. I categorized it to what you probably feel towards Electra. You like her and you care about her, but you don’t have romantic intentions where she’s concerned. In that same vein, I recognized that Myshtal was fond of me, but I would never have pegged it as full-blown amore.”

  “You know,” Smokey chuckled as Kane and Li began heading back our way, “between Electra, Myshtal, and Vestibule, I honestly didn’t think your situation could get any more complicated, romantically. Somehow, though, you managed it.”

  I shrugged. “It’s a gift, I guess.”

  Chapter 23

  After Li and Kane rejoined us, the four of us spent about half an hour engaging in guy talk – sports, action movies, etc. – before the girls returned. Apparently my grandmother had used them to ferry exclusive gifts, consisting of handcrafted Caelesian jewelry, to a select group of old friends. (On a related note, it seems Gossamer had called Kane over to ask if it was appropriate to use magic to deliver the gifts, but he had wisely told her that Indigo probably wanted a personal touch.)

  All of the recipients appeared to be exceptionally delighted and honored by my grandmother’s largess – including Electra and the other girls, who also received Caelesian jewelry as a sign of Indigo’s gratitude for their help. Much to my surprise, the experience did seem to ease some of the tension that had been present earlier. For instance, as they came back to rejoin our group, I noticed Myshtal and Electra comparing the Caelesian brooch and ring they had each been given, respectively. I didn’t fool myself into thinking they were going to be BFFs from that point forward, but I did garner the impression that everyone would be civil enough to keep things from getting awkward. Oddly enough, it turned out to be a fairly accurate assessment for the most part; even Vestibule felt comfortable enough to continue hanging out with us.

  With everyone ostensibly willing to put forth an effort to be cordial, the party quickly became a lot more enjoyable. Conversation and commentary were a little guarded at first, but before long we were actually having fun. We laughed, joked, danced – we even started a conga line that almost everyone in the ballroom joined.

  After our efforts on the dance floor, someone made a comment about the room being stuffy. With the ability to control my body temperature, among other things, I was still comfortable, but the statement made me conscious of the fact that a couple of the girls were fanning themselves with their hands. At that juncture, our group made a joint decision to step out and get some air.

  It took us a few minutes to press our way through the crowd, but we eventually made our way outside. It was a beautiful, starry night, and we spent a little time wandering aimlessly, with my friends admiring the architecture of my father’s manor and the meticulous landscaping of the surrounding grounds, much of which was illuminated by lamps. Although we had no particular destination in mind, we ultimately found ourselves near the pool at the rear of the mansion.

  That’s when he entered the picture.

  Chapter 24

  He was the Pelagic Prince – a teen super who claimed to be the heir to an undersea kingdom. I didn’t know him personally, only by reputation, but he’d always struck me as being a bit pompous. That said, he wasn’t really a bad guy and didn’t intentionally do anything wrong, but his presence had an indirect effect on the rest of the evening.

  We had only been at the pool for a few minutes when he sauntered over in our direction. He was dressed in tuxedo pants, but that’s pretty much where his attempt at formal attire came to an abrupt halt. Rather than a shirt and coat, he wore what appeared to be an open vest, displaying bare arms, washboard abs, and pecs so overdeveloped it looked like he had inflated balloons under his skin. Now that I thought about it, he always seemed to be bare chested to some extent. (Apparently the same thought occurred to Smokey, who leaned towards me and whispered, “Seems someone is allergic to shirts.”)

  In truth, the Pelagic Prince had spent the bulk of his life in the water (or more appropriately, under it), where shirts weren’t exactly en vogue. Thus, he couldn’t truly be blamed for never really growing accustomed to them. Presumably, like many others in attendance, he had come to the party as the guest of an invitee – in this case, his grandfather, who had been a contemporary of Gramps and Indigo.

  For a moment, it appeared that he was going to approach and speak to us, but instead the Pelagic Prince walked by, merely giving us a short, friendly wave for the most part (although I noticed him wink at Myshtal). He stopped at the edge of the pool, and then shrugged in a way that caused the vest to drop from his shoulders. Looking back in our direction, he gave us a cocky grin and then suddenly leaped up and out over the water.

  From the way his body was positioned, I got the impression that he was attempting a belly flop of some sort. That being the case, I expected to hear an audible “plop” as he hit the surface of the pool and see water splash explosively. What actually happened, however, was quite a surprise.

  While still in the air, the Pelagic Prince acrobatically performed a double backflip, then somehow managed to straighten out before hitting the water. Remarkably, he went in with a sound that was barely above a whisper, and which scarcely caused a ripple on the surface. Once under the water, he zipped away like he had a motor attached to him, swimming the length of the pool and back, then completing the circuit again – all in under ten seconds (and while still wearing his tuxedo pants).

  “Wow,” murmured Gossamer. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that before.”

  Kane nodded in agreement. “Me either. I didn’t even know they made aquatic tuxedos.”

  That caused a general round of laughter, and a moment later, normal conversation resumed. In truth, however, I only halfway paid attention to what was being said, as I was still keeping an eye on the Pelagic Prince. I lost track of how many times he swam the length of the pool over the next few minutes, but there was one thing I did take note of: he never once broke the surface for air. It was an effective display of his talents, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t imp
ressed.

  After a few minutes, the Pelagic Prince exited the pool. He came out almost the same way he’d gone in – jumping straight out of the water with a muted sound like a knife leaving a sheath, and barely disturbing the surface of the pool. Landing next to his vest, he suddenly shuddered in a weird way – and then again – and for a second I wondered if he had caught a chill or something. It took me a moment to realize what he was actually doing was shaking water off his body, but in a very controlled manner that didn’t send droplets flying everywhere. A minute later, he was generally dry except for his pants and hair.

  Apparently swimming did something to improve his social skills, because the Pelagic Prince – still shirtless – swiftly strode over to us purposefully and introduced himself. We responded in kind, with each member of our group individually greeting him. Although he responded politely to each of us in turn, it became obvious almost immediately that he was really only interested in one person: Myshtal.

  Even before she introduced herself (using her formal name, Isteria), the Pelagic Prince seemed to have eyes for no one but my betrothed. On her part, she seemed to note his attention, but emotionally I could sense that she wasn’t interested – a fact that gave me peace of mind, for some reason.

  Lacking empathic abilities, the Pelagic Prince clearly didn’t realize that his feelings weren’t reciprocated. (Or if he did, maybe he didn’t care, thinking he could win her over.) Intentionally engaging Myshtal in one-on-one conversation, it only took him a minute or two to casually maneuver her a few feet away from the rest of us and out of earshot. From that aspect, he had his technique for getting a girl alone, so to speak, down to a science.

  Telling myself that I was responsible for her, I kept an eye on Myshtal and her new suitor, only half-heartedly participating in the discussion the rest of my friends were engaged in (which currently focused on the merits of an up-and-coming social media site). I couldn’t hear what was being said between them, but I could sense Myshtal slowly growing annoyed and frustrated with the Pelagic Prince, as he clearly wasn’t getting the message.

  I spent a brief moment debating about whether I should come to her rescue, but immediately dismissed the idea. Anything along those lines was sure to reignite the fuse on a stick of dynamite that had already been doused once tonight. Everyone in my current circle of friends – particularly Myshtal and Electra – had managed to peacefully coexist since the girls had returned from delivering gifts on behalf of my grandmother. (In fact, the only notable event of an untoward nature had been when Myshtal introduced herself to the Pelagic Prince by her formal name, which caused Electra to frown – presumably because she hadn’t heard it before.) In short, I made a conscious choice to do nothing where Myshtal was concerned.

  In the end, standing down turned out to be the right decision, as Myshtal apparently handled the problem on her own. I don’t know what she said, but she uttered something that caused the Pelagic Prince to smile broadly as he responded, and then he quickly retrieved his vest and shuffled away towards the interior of the mansion. Myshtal rejoined us a moment later, glancing over her shoulder as if to make sure her admirer was gone.

  “Well, someone has a fan,” Gossamer noted.

  “Not by choice,” Myshtal assured her. “He’s somewhat overbearing.”

  “It goes with the territory,” Vestibule chimed in. “He’s a prince, after all, and it’s not every day that a girl has royalty courting her.”

  Myshtal frowned. “Are princes that uncommon here?”

  This elicited more than a few chuckles, with Li responding a few seconds later, saying, “They are somewhat rare.”

  “Then a double-prince must be singularly unique,” Myshtal announced conclusively.

  Her statement caused almost everyone except me to display a look of confusion.

  “A double-prince?” Smokey echoed a few seconds later.

  Rather than respond Myshtal merely gestured towards me.

  My thoughts raced furiously as I wrestled with what to say. Most of those in our current circle were my close friends and knew many of the intimate details of my life. Vestibule and Atalanta, however, were acquaintances at best. How much did I really want them knowing about me? Then again, I had spent the early part of the evening in a receiving line being introduced as Indigo’s grandson. Thus, the cat was out of the bag to a large extent where my background was concerned.

  Mind made up, I let out a sigh and then quickly summed up how I was both Caelesian and Fleodin royalty. There was stunned silence for the most part when I finished.

  “Wait a minute – you’re a prince in not just one but two interstellar empires?” Kane finally said after a few seconds. “How’s that fair? Someone please explain to me how that’s fair.”

  He asked the last two questions in a tone of mock frustration, causing all of us to laugh.

  “Truthfully,” I said with a grin, “it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “Yeah, right,” Smokey stated sarcastically. “We’re not buying your uneasy-lies-the-head-that-wears-a-crown routine.” He turned to Myshtal. “Anyway, what did you say to the Pelagic Prince to get him to leave?”

  “Nothing much,” Myshtal replied. “I just asked him if he would get me something from the dessert bar inside.”

  “There’s a dessert bar here?” Kane asked, obviously intrigued.

  “No, there isn’t,” Myshtal replied.

  Her comment was met with perplexed looks – and then a raucous outburst of laughter as everyone figured out the joke at about the same time. Myshtal had sent her would-be Romeo on a snipe hunt.

  “That’s awesome!” Gossamer chirped between giggles.

  “You think so?” Myshtal inquired.

  “Oh, yeah,” I insisted, grinning broadly. “That was classic.”

  “Do you think he’ll be back?” Myshtal asked.

  I shrugged. “Who knows? But if he does, just tell him he needs to put on a shirt if he wants to continue the conversation. I doubt that’s an option for the Pelagic Prince.”

  “More like the Pectoral Prince,” Myshtal harrumphed.

  This caused even more chuckles. Or rather, I thought it did, but after a few seconds I realized that Myshtal and I were the only ones laughing. Everyone else was just staring at us as if we were speaking gibberish – especially Electra, who was suddenly giving off an unsettling vibe.

  “Oh, come on,” I said, trying to reestablish a congenial atmosphere. “You have to admit that was funny.”

  “I don’t know, Jim,” Electra blurted out testily. “Maybe if we’d heard it in English.”

  I blinked, trying to make sense of her statement – and then it hit me. The last bit of dialog between Myshtal and me had actually been spoken in Caelesian. Somehow we had switched to my grandmother’s native tongue without me even noticing.

  I opened my mouth to explain – to say anything – but had seemingly taken too long to gather my thoughts, because at that point I was looking at Electra’s back as she stormed off.

  Chapter 25

  I took off after my girlfriend, urged on by Kane making a surreptitious shooing motion with his hand and Smokey doing something similar with his eyes. It didn’t take me long to catch her, as she only had a few seconds of a head start and never got out of my line of sight.

  She hadn’t marched towards the mansion. Instead, she had gone past the pool, heading for the expansive, lamplit grounds of my father’s estate. Needless to say, she was fitfully irate, and it was visibly evident on her face.

  I initially tried to talk to her – asked her to speak to me, why she was so angry, and so on. She essentially ignored me, continuing to walk without breaking stride. After a few minutes, I gave up on trying to engage with her verbally and attempted to hold her hand. The first time, she shook my hand off like it was more disgusting than a dung beetle. The next time I tried it, she gave me a mild electrical zap that had my fingers stinging for about thirty seconds. Following that, I just fell into step beside her,
following where she led and keeping my hands to myself.

  She didn’t seem to have a particular destination in mind – just away from the pool area where I had seemingly committed the unforgiveable sin of speaking in another language. At this juncture, however, we were well away from the site of my transgression and had just begun walking down a path that I recognized.

  “Um…” I began, thinking I should tell Electra what lay ahead. However, a withering look from her made me reassess, and I stayed quiet.

  After a few moments, the path we were on began to bisect a pair of well-trimmed hedgerows. The shrubbery comprising them was initially about four feet tall, but within a few steps had stretched up to about seven feet in height. Moreover, the path we were on (which was well-lit by lamps) began to fork every five or ten paces.

  I smiled to myself, thinking how distracted Electra must be not to realize what was happening, to not recognize where we were. Nevertheless, I kept my mouth shut, understanding that sooner or later she would notice what was already obvious to me.

  She got her first hint when the path we were on suddenly came to a dead end at a wall of hedges. She frowned for a second, plainly confused, then tried retracing our steps. Moments later, we hit another dead end, causing me to smile momentarily. When we hit our third dead end a minute later, I couldn’t keep the grin off my face.

  Having reached her limits, Electra finally declared, “If you’re going to be following me around all night like a stray hoping to be adopted, the least you can do is help me instead of standing there smirking.”

  I chuckled. “We’re in a hedge maze.”

  “I know that, professor. I’m looking for the way out.”

  “Well, there are two options. Number one, I could phase you, and then you could simply walk straight through the hedges until you’re out.”

  I was silent for a moment, prompting her to ask, “What’s option two?”