twin for each time?
Now that his initial amazement was fading, Noel noticed that his duplicate was not quite as tall as he. Leon’s features were less chiseled. His jaw had a blurred line to it; the skin of his cheeks bore a few pitted scars from acne or smallpox. His eyes were not as deep-set, and their color was paler, almost silver. He held his mouth in a perpetual hostile sneer. It was like looking at oneself in an imperfect glass, where a small ripple in the surface put the reflection off kilter.
“We’ll have that dagger from you, my lord,” said the guard.
Leon’s brows drew together. Is that the way I look when I frown? wondered Noel, only to drive the thought away. Leon said nothing, but he pulled his dagger from his belt and surrendered it.
He used his right hand.
Noel himself was left-handed. He blinked, putting it all together. Even their names were reversals of each other. Noel and… Leon. This duplicate must have been created when he was going through the time stream.
But they hadn’t come through to reality in the same place, unless Leon had regained consciousness first this morning and come straight off the mountain to Mistra before the dwarfs started scavenging among the bodies. Was Leon merely a clone? Did he have the same personality, the same way of thinking, the same thoughts? Or was he his own person, a duplicate only on the surface?
The whole idea was chilling.
“Inside, both of you!”
Hard shoves sent Noel and Leon staggering into the cell together. Their shoulders bumped, and as one they whirled away from each other, taking opposite sides of the cell. It was furnished with a pile of dirty straw in one corner, a pair of ring bolts to fasten shackles to, and an open grille in the door to let light stream in.
Noel sucked in a breath. His voice seemed to have deserted him. “You are Leon of… Nardek?”
Leon’s glare intensified. “I am,” he snapped.
Noel forgot the listening jailer and turnkey outside. He took a step closer to Leon. “This isn’t supposed to happen,” he said in half a whisper. “You shouldn’t-”
“-exist?” finished Leon with a sneer. “Shouldn’t I? Next will you say I should plunge back into the ether that created me? Am I going to be too much of an inconvenience to you, Brother Noel?”
Noel blinked, surprised in spite of himself. “You know about the-”
“Of course I know! I went through it, didn’t I? I know everything you know, Brother Noel. I am everything you are. You can’t put me back. You can’t make me disappear. I’m real now, and I’m going to stay real.”
“We’ve got to go back,” said Noel. He rubbed his bracelet. “Somehow-”
“Go back to what?” said Leon angrily. “I exist here.”
“You shouldn’t.”
Leon swung at him, but Noel ducked beneath his arm and slammed him against the wall.
The jailer kicked the door. “You there! Stop that fighting.”
“Stay out of this,” said Noel and Leon simultaneously.
The jailer backed away. “Mind you keep quiet,” he said.
Noel paid him no attention. His gaze fastened on Leon. This was just a copy, an imperfect one, some twisted, angry version of himself. They shouldn’t think alike. They shouldn’t speak at the same time.
Yet they did.
Noel set his jaw. “We’ve got to talk.”
“There is nothing to say,” said Leon, still pressed against the wall although Noel had retreated. “You have everything… a real, working LOC, memories of your own past, even-”
He broke off, breathing raggedly.
Noel watched him. “Even what?”
“I have only now,” said Leon. “I was born today. That is all I have. Today. No yesterday. No past. But I can make a future for myself, in this time, in this place.”
‘ No,“ said Noel in horror. ”You can’t interfere with history. The paradox-“
Leon laughed, a scornful, cutting blare of sound. “Do you think I care? I can do anything I want, and how will you stop me?”
“You must not interfere,” said Noel urgently. “You could destroy the future, change it irrevocably-”
“Then let it change! Let my name be written in their history books. Let my descendants fill the world. How else can I be?‘
“No-”
“Yes! Damn you, yes! I have already made it so. And if you are wise, Brother Noel, you will not seek to stop me.”
He whirled away before Noel could reply and banged on the door. “Jailer! Jailer, I want another cell. I demand it! Jailer-”
“Be quiet,” said Noel. “He isn’t going to accede to your demands. You’re a prisoner, just like me.”
“It’s your fault I’m here,” said Leon. “I was already Sir Magnin’s favorite. He likes my company. I amused him. I gave him good ideas. But you have spoiled everything, turned him against me, made him distrust me.”
“Good,” said Noel. “We both have to find a way out of Mistra. Recall will come any minute now. We mustn’t interfere more than we’ve done already. You know that.”
“I’ve already said I do not care. I will regain my position with Sir Magnin. I can offer him skills that no one else can.”
Foreboding filled Noel. “What do you have in mind?”
“Oh, no, I am telling you nothing about it.”
“You had better.”
“Go to hell, Brother Noel.”
Putting his back to the door, Leon rolled his eyes up in his head and stayed that way for several seconds. Noel watched him with concern, wondering if he was crazy in addition to his other problems, but before Noel could think up another approach with Leon, the jailer came to the door and unlocked it.
“We’ve got another cell for you, my lord,” he said. His eyes looked slightly glazed. His voice sounded wooden. “Better if the two of you stay apart. You might cook somethin‘ up.”
Noel stared, too astonished to act. Grinning broadly, Leon strolled from the cell. Noel stepped forward, but the door was slammed in his face.
“Wait,” he said desperately. “You must listen to me-”
Leon only laughed as he walked down the cell block and was locked away. Noel hammered on his door.
“Jailer!” he called. “Jailer!”
But a brick came hurling at his door, striking it with such a savage thud Noel was startled into leaping back.
“Shut that noise!” yelled the jailer. “Pipe up again and I’ll have your tongue out.”
Noel frowned, his mind awash with worry and the implications of what he’d witnessed. What had Leon done to convince the jailer to move him? What kind of mental powers did he possess? Noel knew that he himself lacked any kind of telepathic skills. He’d been rigorously tested before he was allowed to enter the training program at the Time Institute. How could Leon be a duplicate copy and possess different abilities? Was there something latent in Noel that the duplication had picked up and amplified?
He could ask himself questions like that for an eternity and come no closer to getting any answers.
Clearing off a space on the floor, Noel settled himself gingerly there and leaned against the wall. It was cold and hard against his shoulders. His problems were getting worse, and he was further from solving any of them than he’d ever been.
His hand closed over the bracelet on his left wrist. He had to make the LOC work. He needed answers, and he needed them soon.
Worried and tired, Noel dozed until the dungeon grew quiet and the fires burned down to low embers. Then he went to work.
“Come on, LOC. Come on, LOC!”
Shivering with cold upon the dank stone floor, Noel hunched himself up in a knot to conserve body warmth and tried to crush the fear gnawing the pit of his stomach.
“LOC, activate,” he said.
