“What about me?” I asked. “Aren’t I included?”
“Well, you certainly aren’t excluded,” BT assured me. “I think Mouse was just making it clear that you aren’t required to stay.”
“At the moment, I’ve got nothing more pressing than this,” I reminded them. “Plus, I’d probably be hanging out here anyway, even if we didn’t have this issue with Jack.”
Mouse glanced at BT. “He’s probably right. He spends so much time here that it’s practically his lab, too.”
“How about this?” I interjected. “I’ll run out and grab lunch – my treat – and we can figure out afterwards whether it’s worthwhile for me to hang around.”
“Far be it from me to turn down a free lunch,” Mouse said. “Alright, make it happen.”
Chapter 62
For lunch, I teleported from Mouse’s lab to Jackman’s – a local grill owned by a couple of former superhero sidekicks. It was an eatery that was frequented by a fair number of supers, and not just in support of two of our own. They actually served great food. The place was also a favorite hangout for a lot of super teens, including me and my friends, and we usually came by at least once a week.
I popped up in the parking lot. Based on the number of cars present, there didn’t seem to be a lot of patrons – a fact that was proved correct when I went inside the grill a moment later. (Of course, it was the middle of the school day, so the throngs of teens that I typically saw when I came here were all in class.)
I went straight to the takeout counter, intending to make a quick to-go order. When I got there, however, the waitress on the other side, a twenty-something brunette wearing a hairnet, placed a bag on the counter and pushed it towards me.
“Here’s your order,” she announced. “Right on time.”
“Excuse me?” I muttered in confusion.
“Your order,” she repeated. “I told you it would be ready in ten, and it was – almost on the dot.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, “but I think there’s been some mistake. I haven’t ordered yet.”
She giggled. “Well, if it wasn’t you, it must have been your twin brother.”
“Except I don’t have a…”
I stopped speaking, the words frozen in my throat as reality set in.
“Look,” the waitress said, “it’s already paid for, so you might as well take it.”
She then walked away, headed back to the kitchen.
I stood there stunned for a moment. Jack had been here, not fifteen minutes earlier. Plus, bearing in mind that he’d ordered food, there was an expectation that he’d be back soon.
However, before I could make plans on how to best utilize that information, I heard a soft heads-up whistle that seemed to be directed at me. I turned in the direction of the sound and then stared.
There, sitting in a booth and waving me over, was Jack.
Chapter 63
I frowned, suddenly ill at ease. By coming here, this faux clone was overtly invading another aspect of my life, and I didn’t like it. However, understanding that there was an opportunity here, I decided to take him up on the invite to join him and began walking over. However, I hadn’t taken three steps before he cleared his throat and then nodded towards the bag the waitress had placed on the counter. Rolling my eyes, I turned around and grabbed it, and then resumed my approach to his booth, with Jack smiling broadly the entire while.
When I reached him, I tossed his order onto the table and sat down across from him. Ignoring me for the moment, he opened up the bag and took out a burger and an order of fries.
“Oh, man,” he practically gushed, “this looks great.”
“What are you doing here, Jack?” I asked.
He gave me an appraising glance. “You know my name. Someone’s done their homework.”
I ignored his comment. “I’ll ask again. What are you doing here?”
Having just taken a bite of his burger (which seemed to be loaded with lettuce, tomatoes, and everything else), he held up a forefinger to indicate I should give him a moment while he swallowed his food.
“I would have thought that was obvious,” he replied. “Getting lunch.”
“Yeah, but why here?”
“Why not? This is one of our favorite places.”
“No, it’s not one of our favorite places,” I corrected. “It’s one of my favorite places.”
“Well, I’m you,” he insisted.
“No, you’re not. If you were me, you wouldn’t have to avoid certain people because they can tell the difference between us. If you were me, you’d know I take my burgers with veggies on the side. If you were me, the security system in my father’s mansion would have recognized your biometrics and gone passive instead of blasting a hole in your midsection.”
“Well, I’m you to the extent it matters, such as for any major purposes.”
“Major purposes?” I echoed. “What does that mean?”
Jack seemed to contemplate for a moment before answering. “You’d agree with me that there’s currently conflict between countries all over the globe, right? Everything from border skirmishes to open warfare.”
“Okay,” I muttered, not sure where this was going.
“Now, just imagine for a second that the leaders of two warring nations suddenly sit down next week and sign a peace treaty. And then two more a few days later, and then two more shortly after that, and so on. We could be on the cusp of world peace within a month.”
“It’s a nice dream,” I noted, “but good luck with making it reality. You’re talking about armed conflict that, in some cases, has been going on for decades. Getting the appropriate politicians and heads of state to change their minds in a week – which is what you seem to be suggesting – simply isn’t going to happen.”
“I’m not talking about changing their minds. I’m talking about
