Through a Glass Darkly

Morgan was always a bit messy, but the sneak peek into the lab served as a good reminder that Alex had never really known his sister well enough. That wasn’t a bit. That was nice and proper — a huge mess worthy of a genius descendant of the Yu dynasty. Through a glass darkly Alex could make out multiple sticker notes scattered, no, purposefully attached to almost each and every object in the room. He struggled to read those, but they got him positively intrigued so he tapped on the lab door window and, before Morgan gave any indication of approval, entered the room. Because no closed doors existed there for Alex Yu, the President and CEO of Transtar. “Alex! Stop! Stop right there!” “Criminal scum?” he chuckled amusedly. Exchanging the joke lines from their previous earthbound lives. Just like old times. “Alex, for god’s sake, I mean it.” To say that Morgan’s voice sounded agitated, would be an underestimation. She seemed genuinely worried, and it pretty much erased all the amusement that Alex had. “Stay where you are and activate your helmet.” Only then did it cross his mind that not only did she sound worried, but her voice was also muffled by the thick layer of omniproof glass of Transtar uniform helmet. With deep space looming into your windows daily, the environment in which they were living, although dressed up and polished to the highest standards of art-deco design and style, kept reminding that if not a direct enemy, then at least it was never their friend. In space, nothing was on your side. Some had learned that the hard way. Alex Yu had learned that from their mistakes. His sister didn’t have to ask him twice. With a light whoosh the helmet’s glass formed a barrier between him and the rest of the place. He was now close enough to read one of the sticker notes. As it happened, it was attached to a red whiteboard magnet. Not a mimic, it said. The one attached to a yellow magnet stated the same. The same was underlined by a green magnet sticker note nearby. “What the…” “Check the lock. Have you locked the door?” Morgan pointed to the door behind Alex from the opposite corner of the room, and he obeyed. The lock clicked. “Now, would you mind explaining what on earth is going on here, Morgan?” he would have liked to cross the room and come closer but felt that the right decision was to stay put. That’s what she said. She laughed, snickered more likely: “Well, I definitely hope that nothing of this kind is going on on our dear mother Earth, but yeah…” “Morgan, to the point,” he requested, trying as hard as he could to maintain the usual business-like tone. Siblings or not, but he was still the one in charge. “Just don’t get mad, alright?” Silence. “Alright?” Mad silence. “Okay. I think I lost a mimic here.” Alex was still keeping silent, but now the impatience in his silence vibes gave way to sheer disbelief. He just stood there radiating it and stared into the room, onto his sister, so thin and fragile even in the spacesuit, but his eyes only saw void. The stickers suddenly started to make so much sense. The mimics could only mimic one thing at a time — an object and a sticker note comprising two separate things were a task too superior to this alien lifeform. “You think,” he finally uttered in a flat tone. Empires were rising and falling, cities burning, the whole civilizations coming to ruin in his mind, just because of a mimic species breach in one small Transtar lab. “Yes, but as you can see, I am dealing with this… expertly.” “With pieces of sticky paper,” Alex confirmed blankly. Nothing was moving in the room, but his head was spinning, and his mind was actively engaged in strategizing. “It’s as good a method as any. Now, since you are here, lend me a hand, will you? You know you can’t leave now just like that… not to mention leaving me here now that you know…” Of course, he knew. He would get mad afterwards. He would get mad big time at her as both his employee and his sister. But only after they were done with the dirty business in this lab. No matter what you did, Transtar’s was always a dirty business. “We should check for the unmarked objects now. It’s easier to do it together. You go from that side. I start from mine. Meet you in the middle. Then, repeat right to left. I’m positive, we’ll find it in no time!” Alex only nodded gravely. “And yeah, Alex, do check the stickers, too. The ones that I posted, they always have my scribbles on them… if you see anything out of ordinary… well, you know…” “I know, Morgan.” He tried to be cooperative and very thorough. For the sake of both of them, and probably humanity as well, checking every object and sticker note with one hand while grasping a wrench — the first and foremost tool coming with all Transtar spacesuit modifications — with the other. Note: “Not a mimic.” Note: “Not a mimic.” Note: “Not a mimic.” Note: “Nah.” Note: “No.” Note: “April Fool’s somewhere on Earth today, big brother.” Note: “Not a mimic.” “Wait… what?” Alex shook his head in disbelief and cast another glance at the sticker note he’d just dismissed as a not-a-mimicky one. “Morgan?! Morgan!” He thought he was pretty close to crushing her — playing tricks with this! on him! — but she bumped into him instead with a rib-crushing hug and laughter. “False alarm! No mimics were lost during this April Fool’s joke! Now get your head out of this aquarium. Like this, right.” She pressed her lips to his flaming cheek. Incredulous. However, the anger died down with that, although now his cheeks were flaming with a completely opposite emotion. “You know it’s… morbid and unethical at least. I could have simply given orders to… to… wipe the whole station,” the ventilated Talos-1 air tasted so sweet after an eternity of dread in the confines of the helmet. “Everything we are doing here is morbid, and nothing we are doing here is ethical, Alex.” They both knew how right she was. “But it was a good drill, wasn’t it? We can use this experience if anything…” “Nothing will…” he interrupted quickly. “IF anything ever happens,” she still finished her thought. “I wish I could play the same stupid tricks on Mikhaila, but she has no clearance for mimic talks.” “Oh, this one time when I envied Miss Ilyushin!” he mumbled and hugged his sister, slender, pretty, the stupidest and the smartest at the same time, fearless, sensible, witty, beautiful — no, he couldn’t be angry at all — and knew again pretty well that he envied Miss Ilyushin every single moment.