chapter 12
TEAM 3, YEAR: 2095
Time Remaining: 185 Days
The 2095 version of Spencer stormed out of the elevator and down the hall in a foul mood. As he held his key out toward the lock, he realized the door was partially open. He saw the lights were on, heard the rocketball game on TV and had a pretty good idea who was in his home. He pushed the door open and charged into his home finding the twins on his couch.
“What are you guys doing here? Is this some kind of a joke?” demanded Spencer. His voice increased in both decibels and octaves. He threw his keys down on the floor and rubbed his face in exasperation. “What is wrong with you two? Don’t you have anything better to do on a Saturday night? And how did you get in here?”
“Actually,” interrupted Asher, ignoring all questions, “before you get your SquidoPus pyjama pants in a twist, we’re here for a legitimate reason.”
Spencer eyed his older brothers and realized he had just been had. His shoulders fell and he sighed heavily. “You’ve both been here all along haven’t you?” He slid out of his shoes, placed them neatly on the shoe rack in the closet and hung his jacket.
“In a sense,” said Logan. He stood and walked into the kitchen. “Got any beer?”
“No, I don’t,” Spencer lied. He always kept a twelve-pack of beer in the fridge for when the twins came over, but today he felt disinclined to accommodate them. “I need a glass of wine. You guys are too much to take sometimes.” He followed the twins into the kitchen.
Knowing full well that Spencer always kept a twelve on hand specifically for their benefit, Logan peered into the fridge, grabbed two bottles of beer and tossed one to his twin. They both leaned casually against the counter opposite the fridge and chucked their bottle caps into the fruit basket on the counter. Spencer grabbed the metal lids and tossed them into the garbage as he heaved another sigh. He pulled a bottle of red wine from the rack on the wall, uncorked it and poured himself a large glass. He savoured the first taste in silence with his eyes closed before giving the twins his attention.
“Okay, why did you say you were here?”
“We didn’t,” said Logan, suddenly unsure of where to begin. It never occurred to him to plan for this conversation. “We’re here on NRD business.”
Spencer took another sip of his wine and looked at them with narrowed eyes. “What do you mean, ‘on NRD business?’ Like, work?” Spencer scrutinized Logan’s face like he was seeing his brother for the first time. He did the same to Asher. “What’s wrong with you guys?” Standing in the harsh light of the kitchen, Spencer noticed the twins looked haggard.
“Yes, yes, we’re irresponsible, we delight in making you miserable,” said Asher, rolling his eyes.
“No, that’s not it,” said Spencer. “Why are you so tanned? You look like you’ve aged five years since I’ve seen you last. What have you guys been doing?” He leaned in to get a closer look and Logan held out his arm to distance himself from Spencer’s visual inspection.
“Whoa. Personal space, little bro.”
“Nice,” Asher chuckled. “That’s really nice. It’s actually only been about two and a half years, not five, but thanks for that. The compliment is great for the ego.”
Spencer laughed derisively. “Your egos could use a couple of hits.” He leaned against the stove opposite the twins and eyed them suspiciously as he processed what Asher had just said. “What do you mean, ‘it’s only been two and a half years?’”
“We’re on an op,” said Logan, unable to contain a grin.
Spencer nearly shot wine through his nose as he coughed and laughed simultaneously. “Sure you are. And I’m the Queen of England. For one, I must have missed it when they transferred you from Research to Defence, and two, it’s past five. Oh, and it’s the weekend. Neither of you have worked a minute of overtime in your lives.” Spencer took another sip of his wine and cleared his throat. “Research staff don’t go on ops. Besides, what operation would want you two?”
“I’ll disregard your hurtful comments,” said Asher smirking, not hurt at all. “And it’s true, about the overtime, anyway. But this operation required special talents only we possessed.”
“What’s that? Getting drunk and hitting on women?” Spencer smiled at his own quick wit. So rarely did he get good shots in at the twins.
“Now Spencer, you know we’re much deeper than that. Actually, we’re on a pretty cool op that we think you’ll like. In fact, it involves you, but not this you,” said Logan, pointing at Spencer’s chest. “We’re here from 2097.”
Spencer felt flames of anger flare on his cheeks. Jokes were fine and the occasional jab at his work ethic he could handle. What he had no patience for was being talked to like a fool. “Wow. You guys really are loaded aren’t you? It’s pretty early in the night for this wouldn’t you say?”
The 2097 version of Spencer listened to the conversation from the top of the stairs. The point was to have the twins ease the 2095 version of Spencer into the situation and save him the shock of finding himself in his own living room. The twins were doing a horrible job, something Spencer assumed they had done intentionally—to get under the skin of two Spencers for the price of one. He listened as the conversation went nowhere. He walked down the wide spiral staircase and joined the twins and the past version of himself in the kitchen before the twins got out of hand. Future-Spencer entered the kitchen and showed himself to his past-self.
“I know this sounds crazy, but they are actually telling you the truth. As hard as that is to believe.” Future-Spencer shot the twins an angry look and they smiled back innocently.
At the sight of himself, the past version of Spencer jumped backward. Already leaning against the stove, this resulted in him smashing the hand holding the wine glass into the handle of the fridge. The glass shattered and red wine sprayed the fridge and wall. The twins watched with amusement; their eyes lit up like kids being given a bag of candy.
“I think everyone should just have a seat in the living room and we can discuss this,” said future-Spencer. He wet the cloth in the sink and threw it at Asher. It bounced off his chest before he could catch it leaving a damp patch on his grey shirt. “Clean that up,” he demanded in exasperation, then followed his younger self into the living room.
After nearly a half hour’s worth of explanation and questions, the past version of Spencer finally accepted that the twins’ story had not been an elaborate hoax, only because of the presence of his future-self. From the future or not, he knew that he would never joke about this. Spencer enjoyed talking to the past version himself. At first, it had been a surreal experience—he saw himself from the perspective of how others saw him. Initially, he felt self-conscious at how different his voice sounded and how different his mannerisms looked from an outside perspective. This awkwardness lasted only a few minutes; after talking to his past-self for several moments, the conversation felt comfortable and natural.
“I guess we should get the twins here then,” said past-Spencer, still recovering from the mental shell-shock. He expected it would take some time to become comfortable with seeing himself in his own home.
“I agree. As unlivable as it will be having four of them around,” said future-Spencer.
“You know, we’re right here,” said Logan. “We can hear you.”
The two Spencers looked at each other and smiled.
Lured easily with a promise of beer, pizza and a Saturday night rocketball game, the twins took no time in getting to Spencer’s condo. When they arrived, they knocked only as a formality and walked in.
“What’s up with your doorman?” Logan asked, kicking off his shoes and turning toward the small closet.
Asher knelt down to untie his shoes. “Yeah, he looked at us really funny.”
“Well, understandably he’s shocked. He’s already seen a more handsome version of you two come in tonight,” said future-Logan.
Confused by the familiar voice, the past versions of the twins look
ed into the living room, found their duplicates seated comfortably on the couch and howled with laughter. When two Spencers emerged from the kitchen, they broke into another wave of laughter.
The past versions of the twins settled themselves down on the loveseat after a stop in the kitchen to grab a couple of beers.
“Okay, okay, what is this?” asked the past version of Asher, his eyes still watery from laughing.
“It’s a long story,” said future-Logan, “one we know will intrigue and amuse you.”
“Sounds good. I’m always up for being amused,” said past-Asher. “But before we do that, I heard a rumour about pizza?”
While they waited for the pizza to arrive, the future version of the twins told the story of Logan’s ruse to get past-Spencer out of the condo. The past version of the twins found it just as amusing as their future counterparts had and were still laughing about it when the pizza delivery robot arrived.
Future-Spencer opened his door to a familiar hovering robot. It appeared outside his door more often than not when the twins came over. The delivery robot doubled as a sleek mobile oven. It baked the pizzas en-route to destinations, zipping around the city, in and out of air traffic like other delivery bots. Spencer saw the crispy, golden pizzas through the glass window in the robot’s oven door.
“Hello, Resident of Two-Eight-Eight-Three Cloverdale Road.”
Spencer grabbed his keys off the table by the door and selected the key shaped like an elongated “M” and slid it into the appropriately shaped receptacle on the delivery bot.
“Thank-a you for your payment,” said a half-mechanized, half-human voice with a thick Italian accent.
The robot’s oven door opened and a wave of hot, delicious air hit Spencer in the chest. Inside the robot’s oven body were four racks with a pizza on each. He watched a stainless steel shelf underneath the oven slide forward with a circular cardboard tray on it. The bottom rack tilted downwards and the pizza slid onto the cardboard circle with exact precision. A green laser dot zipped across the pizza slicing it into eight equal pieces. Spencer set the pizzas on the coffee table.
Future-Spencer refilled his and past-Spencer’s wine glasses, then selected a piece of pizza and placed it on his plate. “Okay guys, we need to discuss this.”
Future-Asher grabbed his third slice of pizza and jammed it into his mouth with no sign of slowing down or needing to breathe. “Why don’t you just relax for a bit?” he said through a mouthful of pizza. A piece of cheesy pepperoni slid off the slice and onto his shirt.
“There’s a lot to explain.” Future-Spencer cut into his pizza with a knife and fork. He watched future-Asher eat the pepperoni off his shirt and try to lick away the grease stain it left behind. He shook his head in disgust. “The reason we’ve been sent back in time is because we need to make some adjustments to the past.”
“Adjustments? What kind of adjustments?” asked past-Logan. “I thought messing around while travelling back in time was, well, messy?”
“Not to mention, strictly prohibited,” added past-Spencer.
“True, but there are some problems in 2097 that can only be addressed by making some slight modifications to the past.”
“Hah! That’s putting it lightly,” said future-Asher. He washed down a mouthful of pizza with beer. “This is the highest profile, noncombat op in the history of the NRD.”
Three sets of eyes fixed on future-Spencer. “The AEI Project that you have all just started working on has failed and we’re here to try and salvage it.”
The room fell silent. “Wow,” said past-Logan finally. “That is the last thing I expected you to say.”
“Let me explain,” said future-Spencer. “The project gets completed and the one-year pilot project rolls out successfully. The robots are mass produced and become integrated into society relatively quickly.”
“That sounds pretty successful to me,” said past-Spencer.
“It started out successfully. In fact, the demand for the robots in the first few months of the pilot project exceeded the NRD’s estimation by 1,277 percent. People and businesses were offering to pay ten times the asking price to place a pre-order,” explained future-Spencer. He leaned back in his chair with his glass of wine in hand and watched the two sets of twins continue to devour the pizza like a pack of starved dogs. He wondered where they had gotten their manners. Seeing the expression on past-Spencer’s face he knew his past-self was wondering the same thing. He took advantage of the twins’ mouths being full and explained the dismal situation they were facing in 2097.
“So in a nutshell, we need to manipulate the robots’ Personality Application programming to make sure that they behave in a manner that is safe.”
“Wow. So, you need to convince the people who planned the project that what they’ve planned isn’t going to work. Then, tell them how it needs to change, but give no explanation why?” asked past-Spencer.
“Good luck,” agreed past-Logan. “My boss won’t do anything without a lengthy proposal and three studies worth of supporting data before she’ll agree to any kind of deviation from a set plan.”
Future-Spencer forced a smile. “Well, I’m hoping I won’t need to tell them anything. I’m hoping that by pointing out the shortcomings they’ll agree with me.”
“So if you’re doing all the work, why are they here?” asked past-Logan, nodding toward the future version of the twins.
“A few reasons, actually.” Future-Spencer swallowed the last of his wine. “First of all, you can’t have just one person on an op. If I died, it would mean an instant end to the mission and complete failure. Second, between the three of us, we have a lot of access to different areas of the project. I may need to get information from other divisions and I don’t need to draw attention to myself by poking around in areas I’m not involved in. And third, because we’re brothers, it doesn’t look suspicious for us to be spending an excessive amount of time together.”
“So what do you want us to do?” asked past-Spencer, eager to be involved in something so important.
Future-Logan chuckled. “You guys have it easy. All you need to do is disappear for six months.”
“What?” asked past-Spencer, his mouth agape and his expression tragic.
“It has to be us. All three of you get to leave town, all expenses paid, for six months. But you have to lay low.” Future-Spencer eyed at the past-twins specifically. “Don’t draw attention to yourselves and you can’t be in touch with anyone at all.”
Ample grins broke out on the faces of the past-twins. The past version of Spencer seemed put out. “Why can’t we stay and help? I was really looking forward to working on this project.”
“How are you going to explain to our lead that there are now two of us? You’ll be fully briefed when you come back,” said future-Spencer. He motioned to the twins and laughed. “Plus, no one wants any more of these guys; two is already too many.”
“Hey,” said future-Asher, oozing charm. “You should ask the ladies about that. I think you might be surprised to find out how many of us they’d like.”
Past-Spencer remained focused on the project like a laser beam. “I don’t understand why you can’t tell us what needs to be changed? Can’t we make the necessary modifications?”
“It needs to be us because we’ve already done it. We know the project inside and out, so when we do it again, we can focus on what needs to be changed because we already know what doesn’t work,” said future-Spencer.
“Plus, you’d probably screw it up,” said past-Asher, punching past-Spencer in the arm. Both Spencers ignored him.
“Actually,” said future-Asher, “little Spence is running this op.”
The past-twins laughed in disbelief. “What? Spencer’s levelled up past you guys?” asked past-Logan. “What have you guys been doing for the next two and a half years? You’d better fix that while you’re here too.”
Future-Logan looked at future-Asher, shaking his head in mock disgust. “Who wo
uld have thought we’d ever hold our own selves accountable for anything?”
“I know, I know,” said future-Asher shrugging. “It’s a sad day when we question our own work habits.”
In typical Spencer fashion, his determination and initiative advanced him through the NRD quickly. Spencer’s level four outranked Asher’s level two and Logan’s level three, a considerable achievement as twenty-seven-year-old level fours were few and far between.
Although delighted to hear he was outdoing the twins at something they actually seemed to care about, past-Spencer felt frustrated about losing the opportunity to be involved in the AEI Project. “This operation seems to have a lot of room for error. Why don’t you just go back to the beginning of the project and discuss the changes that need to be made with the Project Director so he can give you the results you need?”
“Ian Turner is the reason this project has failed as spectacularly as it has,” explained future-Spencer with more disdain in his voice than he typically showed for anyone. “When it became evident there was a problem with the robots, people started asking questions about the personality applications and whether or not they were safe to be integrated into society. Ian began to feel the heat and disappeared.”
“Ian could be the biggest liability of this op,” said future-Logan.
Past-Spencer could not believe his ears. Ian was the driving force behind both the AI and AEI initiatives from day one. “But he’s the reason the whole AI Project didn’t get scrapped. Only Ian could go back to the NRD and the private stakeholders and tell them why they needed to pour more money into a project that just failed. He convinced everyone that they should try again by adding artificial emotional intelligence. He seems pretty inspirational.”
“He can paint a beautiful picture with words, no argument there. Ian’s very motivational and very persuasive, no doubt about it. But he’s had a long career and there’s no way he’s going to let his legacy be a failed project,” said future-Spencer.
“Are you saying that the only reason he pushed for the AEI Project was for his own reputation?” asked past-Asher.
Future-Spencer thought for a moment. “Not necessarily. I think it’s a combination of things. I think that Ian believed in the viability of the project. But you have to admit that leaving a legacy of robotic genius that will revolutionize the world is a good way to be immortalized. I don’t think he’d be too keen to let the project fail if it was within his power to avoid it.” He folded up the pizza trays. “I just need to convince Ian that we need to tinker a little with the personality applications. Other than that, we’ll just work around him and hope he doesn’t become too much of a problem.”
“So how does this work?” asked past-Asher. “Do we just leave?”
“Pretty much,” said future-Spencer. “Would you believe that the largest part of our budget is allocated to making you three disappear comfortably for six months?”
Past-Asher returned from the kitchen with a fresh round of beers. “How comfortably?”
“Comfortable enough that you won’t have to worry about anything for six months.” Future-Spencer watched the twin’s eyes grow as their minds filled with possibilities. “But not enough to get into serious trouble.”
Spencer reached into his backpack and removed three fat envelopes and handed one to each of the past siblings. The future-twins eyed the envelopes like two dogs drooling over an unattended plate of steaks. Future-Spencer was unsure if it was the reflection of the cash or the look of envy that made their usually brown eyes look a little green.
The past versions of the twins inspected the contents of their envelopes and their jaws fell open. Future-Spencer had intentionally left this part of the conversation until after discussing the pertinent details. He suspected that after the twins saw the cash, talking to them would be like trying to communicate to two loaves of bread, and he was right. The past-twins launched into a conversation about what they wanted to do and even past-Spencer joined in. Seeing the money warmed past-Spencer to the idea of taking a vacation and decided to spend it touring Europe while the twins opted for surfing and snowboarding in Australia and New Zealand. The twins raced up the spiral staircase to Spencer’s office and began booking their flights. The future-twins became quiet and withdrawn, put out by the loss of a six-month vacation they never had. They cracked open fresh beers as a consolation prize and turned the rocketball game back on to watch the last quarter.
“Well, we need to run,” announced past-Logan. He and his twin slid down the arms of the staircase, their feet skiing down the stairs. They walked directly to the front closet. “We hate to be buzz kills, but we need to go home and pack. Our flight is wheels up at 8:00 A.M.”
They hastily threw on their jackets and as the group said their farewells, they made each other promise not to damage themselves too badly on any of their endeavours, be it vacation or work.
“Lucky bastards,” said future-Logan as the door closed.
The future-siblings discussed their plans for integrating into their past counterparts’ jobs on Monday morning while the now-vacationing Spencer booked his trip. As much as he wanted to be a part of the operation, he was thrilled to finally have an opportunity to see Europe.
Past-Spencer came down the stairs to find Logan and Asher sliding into their jackets to leave.
“Okay Spences, we’re out of here,” said Asher. He opened the door to leave.
“Thanks for the beers and the ’za little bro…and littler bro.” Logan wore a confused look while he processed what he had said to see if it made sense. He shrugged as he turned to leave but quickly turned back. He looked at past-Spencer. “Oh, and have fun on your trip. Try to meet some women while you’re out there, eh? Live a little.”
Asher stuck his head back in the door. “And don’t get the two of you mixed up!”