Tuesday he was unable to escape his studies, and Wednesday was the same. It was only on Thursday, when his dad took his mom out to a fancy restaurant, that he was able to secretly pry some free time away from his hectic scholastic schedule.
He watched his parents’ car pull out of the driveway and turn down the road.
He waited five minutes, because he knew his mom always forgot something, and wouldn’t that be just like reality to try and fuck up a guy’s plans over something so stupid as his parent’s lapse in memory?
He waited and watched. As expected the car reappeared, pulled into the driveway, and he watched his mom dash into the house before once more heading out to the car.
They left again.
He waited.
When he was sure reality had no more traps to stop him, he ran downstairs and began jogging to Jericho’s house.
‘On my way’ He texted.
He ran down the block, past numerous suburban streets, through some fields and yards, and finally stumbled up the driveway of his friend’s house.
The Sun was already setting, but he could see Jericho waiting in the yard.
“About time!” He exclaimed.
“I know, I’m sorry.” He saw a bottle of whiskey beside his friend and sniffed the air. “I, uhhh, thought your dad quit drinking.”
“He did, but I found a bit of his booze.” Jericho said.
“And you’re drinking it?”
“He won’t care one way or the other. Besides, don’t wanna let it go to waste.”
Malcolm blinked, then gave him a probing stare. “I don’t want you drinking.”
“It’s fine.” Jericho said, waving away the concerns.
“Seriously dude.”
“Seriously. We’ve got a job to do. Tonight. Right now. I need to be calm, and I need to be ready for a fight if it comes to that.” He said, shaking the whiskey bottle. “We need every advantage possible.”
Malcolm wasn’t sure, but once they entered the house and began descending the stairs, he felt he could’ve used a bit of liquid courage as well. His misgivings only amplified when they stopped off in the basement’s living room and Jericho handed him a big roll of duck tape.
“I’ll try to zip-tie his hands and feet together. You try to tape him down.”
Malcolm could only manage a weak nod.
They walked back toward the stairs and paused in front of James’ door. Jericho knocked.
“Come in.” A muffled voice called.
The pair looked at one another, nodded, and rushed inside.
There was a flash of limbs flying this way and that, some shouting, a bit of wrestling…Malcolm took an elbow to the chin, but he wasn’t sure whose it was.
It only took a few seconds to secure the clone.
James half-sat, half-laid on his bed, hands and feet and body taped together, giving the pair a look of confusion and amusement.
“What’s going on?” He asked with a smile.
“We know the truth.” Jericho said. “We know you’re not the real James.”
Of course Malcolm still didn’t know whether or not this was true…He’d seen the mysterious pit and he saw the frogs that had been spat back out of it, but this didn’t tell him whether or not the pit was cloning people.
“Of course I’m the real James.” James grinned. “What makes you think I’m not?”
“We know you’re a clone.” Jericho hissed.
Malcolm was beginning to think they’d made a foolish mistake, but his skepticism instantly evaporated with James’ answer.
“Well yeah, I’m a clone. It doesn’t mean I’m not real.”
Jericho seemed taken aback by the brutal honesty, and he gave his friend a puzzled glance.
Malcolm could only shrug.
“What do you mean? Where’s the real James?”
“I told you, I’m the real James.”
“The original.” Malcolm interjected. “Where’s the original James.”
The clone nodded toward the closet. “He’s safe and sound in the colony, living his best life in its walls.”
“And what are you?” Jericho asked.
“A Mycelloid.” Not-James answered.
Malcolm and Jericho looked at one another with confusion. Yet again Malcolm could only shrug.
“And what’s a Mycelloid, exactly?”
“Basically, I’m a moving, breathing fungal colony that copied your brother and is now living his life.”
“And you plan to replace everyone!” Jericho exclaimed. “I knew it! Didn’t I tell you Malcolm?! He wants to round us all up and slaughter us, then these fungus things are gonna take over the Earth! This is like some sort of body-snatcher horror movie!”
Not-James blinked, clearly surprised, then laughed. “Oh no, you misunderstand. We Mycelloids are peaceful! We are passive beings and would never force anyone to do anything they didn’t want to do. Your brother, of his own free will, allowed me to take over his life.”
“Liar!” Jericho spat.
“It’s true. If you want you can ask him yourself.”
Yet again Jericho and Malcolm were surprised, but before either could say anything they heard a low rumble emanating from the closet. They turned just in time to see the door fly open and a slime-covered figure hit the floor.
Even in the relatively low light, they could tell it was James, yet as he stood Malcolm couldn’t help but notice that he looked different…Healthier…Fitter…His muscles looked more pronounced, his hair looked fuller, and even coated in slime, his skin seemed less greasy.
“That’s not my brother, that’s another one of you guys…Mycelloids, or whatever.” Jericho said.
The figure wore clothes that appeared just as fresh as the day they’d been bought…Clothes Malcolm had never seen James wearing in the past. Indeed, as he stood his posture was better than he, Malcolm, had ever seen.
“It’s me, little bro.” James said with a half-cocked grin. “Sorry if things have been weird around here.”
But Jericho shook his head. “No…No, that can’t be him. You’re trying to trick me.”
“You look too healthy to be the real James.” Malcolm said, trying to remain rational and level-headed against his friend’s growing hysteria.
“It’s the nutrients down there in the fungal walls.” Not-James interjected. “Up here he ate loads of unhealthy foods…Processed garbage, sugars, salts…but down there he’s given nothing but clean nutrients, vitamins, and water.”
“I’ve never felt better.” Possibly-James grinned. “It really is wonderful. Down there, they do something to you where you’re constantly…Well…”
“We stimulate the brain so that everyone feels an unending sense of pure euphoria.” Definitely-Not-James interrupted. “Without getting too crude, you’re kept in a state of constant, growing orgasm.”
“You really should try it.” Maybe-James beamed. “It’s amazing.”
But Jericho pulled away. “You’re not my brother…You’re not the real James. Not the original…”
“I am.” The New-James said, taking a small step forward.
“Prove it.” Jericho said. “Tell me something only the real James would know.”
“Ah, well, you see, that’s a bit of an issue.” Not-James interjected from the bed. “You see, when your brother was copied his neurons were copied as well. That means the Fungal Colony gained access to every one of his memories, every quirk of his behavior, everything he’s ever thought. When I was formed, those attributes were gifted to me. I know everything he does.”
Jericho looked back and forth at his brothers, unsure how to respond.
The Mycelloid sighed. “If you want me to tell you that you got the scar on your arm from trying to cut open a beehive, or that you broke your leg trying to jump off the roof with a makeshift parachute, I can…But that doesn’t mean I’m the original James, and if he told you those things it wouldn’t mean he’s the original one either. There’s no real way either of us can prove to be the original. But ask yourself, why would I tell you these things if I were malevolent? Wouldn’t I want to keep this crucial piece of truth away from you?”
“I guess.” Jericho conceded.
“If nothing else, him being honest with you should give you some confidence.” Maybe-real-James shrugged. “If he wanted to lie, he wouldn’t have told you that he has access to my memories.”
Jericho walked slowly up to his possibly-real brother and stared him in the eye.
James stared back down at him.
“So?” Malcolm asked. “Is he the real one?”
Jericho slumped. “I…Can’t tell.”
Potentially-real-James gave a small nod and a wistful smile. “I suppose there is no real way to tell. You’re just gonna hafta trust what we’re telling you…What I’m telling you.”
“It’s the only way you’ll know the truth” The bed-bound-clone nodded. “Unless…”
It was obvious he was laying verbal bait.
Jericho took it.
“Unless what?”
“You could always go down into the fungal tunnels and see for yourself. See the original animal lifeforms encased in the walls, see them nestled in cozy pods with all the nutrients they could ever need. Perhaps if you saw your brother in such a state, you’d believe he’s the real one.”
“It’s not as weird as it sounds.” Likely-real-James added. “While in the walls you’re able to see everything your clone sees, and the chemicals you get are-” he shivered “-really nice.”
“Pure euphoria.” The bound clone repeated. “We figured it was the least we could do for those who willingly gave us control of their lives.”
“But why?” Malcolm asked. “What’s your end goal?”
“End goal?” The clone asked.
“Hey, is it alright if I go back down?” Real-James asked.
The clone gave a small nod, and in a single bound, Real-James ran and leapt back into the infinite void.
Malcolm was taken aback.
Jericho ran to the hole and watched his brother disappear out of sight.
“He didn’t even say goodbye.”
“Oh, there’s no need for him to say that.” The clone smiled warmly. “Not while I’m here.”
“But you’re not him!” Jericho spat.
“Aren’t I? I have access to all his memories, all his mannerism, and maintain all the social connections he’s made. In what way am I not your brother?”
Jericho said nothing.
“Now, you mentioned an end goal?” The clone asked after a long moment of fuming silence.
Both boys seemed to have forgotten the conversation, but Malcolm regained his senses first.
“Errr, yeah…Why are you here?”
“Why are any of us here?”
Jericho shook his head. “Don’t give me that shit. You could have easily blended into society by creating new people, but that’s not what you did…You’re creating clones and replacing people who already exist. Why?”
The clone shook his head wistfully. “I had hoped that my response would inspire you to think deeper thoughts.” Then looking up at the pair of human boys, said “We Mycelloids are fungal based. That means we thrive on death, but in that way we’re not too different than you. By eating meat, by killing the environment, you humans thrive on death just as much as we do. Death comes after life, which means the more life on the planet, the more death there’ll be, and the more death there is, the better it ultimately is for us. You humans have sadly started wiping out the environments of the world, and your technology hasn’t kept up with your destructive tendencies. This is causing the planet’s biomass to shrink, which means there’s less food for us. Growing concerned, we decided to do what’s needed in order to reverse your careless destruction. Our colony has started replacing humans so that we may help you be less destructive. Living your lives for you, we hope to foster better, less intrusive methods for your society to exist, and with our enhanced mental abilities, we hope to develop technologies that may help the world’s environments recover. That’s why we’re replacing you.”
“To…” Jericho trailed off.
“Think about what humanity’s progress would look like if the number of geniuses were doubled…Or even tripled. Imagine what your world would be like if even one percent of you were geniuses…What would it look like if five percent of you possessed such intelligence? Hell, what if we managed to replace ten percent of you? With our group’s hive-think, we’ll be able to dominate every field in every scientific discipline you’ve created, which means the more of us up here, the better technology will become.”
“And that requires you to copy us?”
“It’s far easier to move into a personality that already exists than it is to forge a completely new one.”
“Then why do you care about getting our permission?” Jericho countered.
“Because forcing humans to do anything would lead to war. Initially, that may lead to a short-term surplus in our food supply, but it’s a very bad long-term strategy. By offering each individual comfort, health, and a life free of future stress, we can easily accomplish what we want.”
Malcolm felt as if there were something deeply wrong in the Mycelloid’s plan, but he couldn’t find a logical reason to dispute it.
Jericho, it seemed, was on the same page. “There has to be some sort of catch.”
“No catch.” The clone said, shaking his head. “We move into abandoned lives and become the best version of that person. We create innovative technology that will benefit humans and Mycelloids alike. There will be more food…More biomass. More for you to eat, and shortly after, more for us to eat. You ask what we want? We want to grow.”
“Grow until you can overtake us?!” Jericho shouted.
“Grow until…No.” The clone shook his head again. “Just grow. It’s what every species wants. It’s what you want, and it’s what we want. Growth. Now let me ask you, what’s the harm?”
Malcolm honestly couldn’t find any downside to the Mycelloid’s plan. If what he said was true, humans would benefit, the globe would benefit, the individual was kept alive and happy, and the Mycelloids would do all the hard work in living.
“So you think we could be on Mars in fifty years?” Malcolm asked in awe.
“Don’t fall for this!” Jericho spat.
But the clone’s warm smile only grew. “Less time than that.” Clone-James smirked. “And from there who knows where humanity will go. Venus? Europa? Maybe together we’ll be able to escape the Solar system and settle in other star systems. The universe beckons!”
Both Malcolm and Jericho didn’t know what to say or how to react, but eventually Jericho slowly started pulling off the tape binding his brother’s clone.
“Thank you, brother.” The clone said, rubbing his newly freed limbs.
“I’m not your brother.” Jericho mumbled.
“But I am.”
“I don’t see you that way.”
“In time I hope you will.” He smiled. “Besides, using the telepathic network of pheromones connected to your brother, he’s currently watching through my eyes right now.”
The two human boys turned to face the pit, but of course they saw no one there.
“Watching through my eyes.” The clone repeated. “He’s watching now because he’s curious as to how you’ll react.”
“Well I can’t exactly kill you.” Jericho said. “I mean, I cut off your finger and it just grew back. If I cut your head off you’ll just grow it back, right?”
The clone held up his hand and extended a pinky. “Very quickly, as a matter of fact.”
“And you don’t seem to be causing any harm.” Malcolm nodded.
“If anything, I cause less harm than the original did. I’m less wasteful and more beneficial to society.”
Jericho closed his eyes. Malcolm watched him.
“Come on.” Jericho said at last, turning and walking out of the room.
Malcolm followed.
The clone watched the pair leave.
They stopped briefly in the living room, where Jericho grabbed the half-finished bottle of whiskey, and together the pair headed back upstairs.
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