Chapter 3: Pocket Kings, 3 different ways to be lost.
He sits in his prison cell, completely lost within himself. At first he questioned why he was here, but the noises of people who (mostly...mostly) sound like him drowned out that question in his own mind. He then found a question that was simpler, louder than the voices around him:
Why have I been here for the better part of a week, yet have not died of thirst of even felt hunger even once?
There is only so long that a human being can rock back and forth in 1 corner of the room that they are in before he gives up staying inside his own shell and he decides to reach out. Thankfully, the arguing outside of him had stopped and sounded more friendly, even comparable to academic colleagues comparing notes when they bump into each other in a conference or some such. It's about time he joins in on the conversation:
"Are all of you...me? You all sound like...me."
He got a civil response very quickly, "There are thousands of us. A few of us are girls, but we all seem to have the same name or variation of Aaron/Erin Collins. 'Me' is technically not applicable in this situation so, could you please find a reflective surface and look for a number that is written on your forehead."
He obliged, quickly finding a mirror. "OK, if my ability to read a mirror image is right my number is 1843. Why? Is that important?"
"OK, 1 of us thinks that the numbers on our heads correspond to what year we differ from the original Aaron Collins. I'm not much into history but..."
Another identical voice interjected "I can take over from here...OK. In your 1843, was 'A Tell-tale heart' published by a man named Edgar Allen Poe?"
"Yes and I think it's a great read too."
"OK, was Edvard Grieg born on June 15th?"
"Yes, does it matter that he was born in Norway?"
"Not really, but it could matter if we can't find any other differences. Question #3, did Francis Scott Key die on January 11th?"
"Um...YES, he wrote the Star-Spangled Banner if my memory serves me correctly."
Another voice (full of arrogance), spoke up: "Strike 3, my turn. Was 'A Christmas Carol' published in your world by a man named Charles Dickens?"
"Nope. A pity he never wrote a holiday story on my world, that would've been a classic. I loved a tale of 2 cities though."
"We have a winner, that's your difference kid."
"OK, now my question to all of you: Are we all writers?"
A sea of confirmations ensued. For once, this Aaron was happy.
"And am I alone in having...travelled to where I've written?"
A sea of denial ensued. 1 of the other Aaron's asked, "How many trips have you had?"
"2. One to a world where Hitler ordered 3 of his lackeys to kill the American runner named Jesse Owens!"
"Who is Jesse Owens?" asked another Aaron.
"Hitler killed that guy in a world? That must've set back track and field back about a decade." says another Aaron.
"I went to that world too, that was so sad when I read about that in the New York Public Library." chimed in an Aaron that sounded like he was only 2 or 3 cells away.
"And started World War 2 a little early if it angered America enough." chimes in another Aaron.
"Sadly ladies and gentlemen, he visited my world. But nevermind that, I'm Aaron-1936...tell us about the second world you went to Aaron-1843"
He was fighting back tears as he said it, feeling safe here despite being in a jail cell, "The second world I went to was a world where Franklin Delano Roosevelt decided against a 3rd term as president due to the tradition started by George Washington."
"Another way America could've gone to World War 2 early." Said Aaron-1936 (presumably).
"At least that poor man avoided his stroke in office." said another Aaron.
"...And that's my world. I'm Aaron-1940. Pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise. This is the most I've talked since I've got here."
"Social...reluctance seems to be our only common bond aside from our name."
Aaron-1843 was morbidly relieved at that, but decided not to ask about the nosebleeds (fearing an answer of yes more of no). Another question took its' place, "How many of us are there?"
Aaron-1940 guessed, "Thousands. But the number of Aarons here are...shrinking. And quickly."
Aaron-1843 got confused, "Elaborate."
"Well, have you seen the ghosts walking around and visiting us?"
Aaron-1843 didn't want to admit it, but did: "Yes, they look like friends of mine...sorry, ours."
Aaron-1940 laughed slightly and added, "1 of us called them dim-prints. His reasoning was: If we're Aarons from different dimensions, than we all have about the same amount of friends in those dimensions. Dimensional imprints or, dim-prints have been visiting us here in our cells and...making us disappear."
"Disappear where?"
"Back to our homes I hope, but no one here knows."
"But why would our friends be doing this to us?"
"Good question."
Just then, a dim-print entered the cell of Aaron-1843. "1 of them is in here with me. It's my friend Heather, only she's in some strange pirate get-up. Hello, Heather...it's me Aaron." Aaron-1843 was flailing his arms around, hoping to get dim-print Heather's attention.
"They can't hear us." remarked Aaron-1936
Aaron-1843 sighed slightly and said, "If my lip reading is correct, she just said 'not this 1, Aaron-1843'"
Aaron-1940 shouted, "Once she touches you, you're gone."
Aaron-1843 panicked and began running around the cell to avoid being touched by dim-print Heather. But ghosts are faster than humans here. Aaron-1843 was touched and awoke in the middle of the night in his apartment in Mississauga, having forgotten everything.
It was a lonely walk-around for Lindsay inside the casino after she was eliminated from the tournament. There were people here, but no one that she could talk to. She normally did long walks inside the casinos that she travelled to back home, in order to help her fight with type 2 diabetes. Then again, if there was no need for food or drink here (other than to appear normal, as she suspected as to why Tara ordered an alcoholic drink), was there a need to walk around here either?
"Hey, Lindsay, come here!"
Lindsay raised an eyebrow, "Holly?"
"Yeah, we found a room with no fake creepy people in it. Come on in."
Lindsay followed Holly into what appeared to be an empty room for high roller roulette players. Also inside were Solveig, Adam, David K. And Jason. They had been in there for some time as all of the chairs had been removed from their respective tables and placed in a circle. Lindsay took her seat while Holly asked, "So you're from the book where I was a detective?"
Lindsay nodded then felt a moment of sorrow, saying "I'm so sorry, but my Aaron never wrote anything until after he disappeared, faking his death. All I know is that none of you in this room are people from my world. In fact, I don't know who you are at all, sir."
The sir to whom she was referring was David K. "It's OK Madam Collins, I only know of you from the books. According to the Aaron in my world, you died in 2003. July 1st, 2003 Julian Calendar."
Lindsay last needed to convert from the Julian calendar to the Gregorian calendar when she had to use it for a History project in high school (about 47 years ago to her). All she needed to remember was that the Julian calendar will be 13 days behind the Gregorian for the entire 21st century. So she added 13 days and came up with July 14th, 2003. A day she would rather forget: "So, in your world the aneurysm killed me?" she asked with a look of dread on her face.
Solveig, Adam, Holly, David K. And Jason all whispered, asking "What's an Aneurysm?"
Lindsay was surprisingly understanding at the inquiry, as some alternate worlds may be more or less advanced medically than her world, "It's when a blood vessel in your brain ruptures."
They somewhat understood, but had no idea how to express it. Lindsay had a solution, "Give me your hand Mr. Kay."
Normally David K. Wouldn't easily surrender his hand, but he knew that weapons didn't come through to this pocket universe for anyone in the game so he stuck his hand out. Lindsay grabbed it and put it on the back of her head between her brain stem and her right ear. David K. Snatched his hand back horrified, "Bloody Hell, there's a dent and tubing in your head that shouldn't be there."
Lindsay laughed and turned her attention back to Holly, "So in your world, you use gears in your prosthetic amputations?"
Holly nodded, "Half of the people in my world has them. There's some strife between those who don't have them and those who have them but we're working on it. Solveig is from my world too."
Solveig raised her hand and smiled. "I don't have a prosthesis, but Holly and I are great friends. You should never demean a person because of a physical ailment."
"I completely agree." replied Lindsay. Not wanting to mention Aaron's autism to the group as they likely never heard of that either.
Adam then decided to take the floor, remarking "Jason and I are from the same world as well."
Jason nodded, "We live in Khabarovsk, it's a frontier town in Russia near the Imperial Chinese border."
David K. Laughed, "The Vodka Western. I loved reading that story. The concept of what my Aaron calls a 'semi-automatic' weapon is very fascinating. Wish I had 1."
Jason turns to Adam and asks, "Pretty surreal. That we're just a novella on another world somewhere. A shame our Aaron is dead. Maybe he would've written a story about Mr. Kay."
"My condolences. I hope he was as nice a guy as he was in my world." offered David K. Out of respect.
"I think my Aaron wrote about a world based on gears and the Russian frontier. But under the name of Jimmy Epiphone so that none of us would find him. No stories about David K. The knight in my world either." said Lindsay.
Holly was quietly observing the conversation, but had a theory. "If there are hundreds or thousands of Aaron's there would be worlds where David K.'s anti-roman adventures would be known and no stories about detectives, gear-bodies or Russian train robbers would exist. Conversely, there would be worlds where all of us would be known, or none at all. And as I think every Aaron has a story to tell..." Holly let that statement trail off, as she felt that the others could out the rest on their own.
"How many Aaron-worlds? How many stories? I suppose they're both equally valid questions." offered Adam.
"Do you guys think those inter-dimensional beings are telling us everything?" asked Jason.
Lindsay shook her head no, "At first I thought they were just telling us what we could process in our minds as most humans can barely process even the possibility of parallel earths. Now, I think there's a plot afoot between them that they're not letting us in on."
Adam smiled and suggested, "Maybe this pocket universe or whatever this place is is turning us all into Isaac."
The group laughed, except Solveig who just gave them all a funny look while suggesting "Or maybe
we're just being paranoid."
David K. Took a middle ground, "I agree that not everything adds up, but I'm not expecting the worst. Let's just play it out...cautiously."
Holly then spoke up a little, "We should probably keep our voices down. God knows what ways they have to spy on us."
Lindsay pointed at the camera at the opposite end of the room, "There's 1 of those in every room in the casino that I've been in so far. As I'm assuming that I'm the only 1 who knows what it is, I'll explain: It's a surveillance device that records what it sees and hears. So while keeping voices down is a good idea, keeping our backs to the camera is a better one. I'd hate for them to be able to lip-read us."
The group adjusted their chairs accordingly, respecting Lindsay. "So have you guys seen Susan Rhodes yet? She was eliminated before I was so she should have been here a while ago. She's dirty blonde haired, wears lenses and is about Holly's height."
They shook their heads, and it went silent as no one wanted to tell anyone else as to how they were eliminated.
"Hello? Is there anyone here that's also out of the poker tournament?"
Susan made it her business to just open every door she could find (save the door where everyone was still playing of course) and ask that exact question. All she got were the ghosts who wouldn't so much as interact with or acknowledge her.
"There could at least be other pit bosses, or floor managers, or dealers, or something. Hell, I'd even settle for a guest directory booth or a chip cashier...even a janitor would be fine."
She opened the maintenance room (which should've been locked), she didn't even find a mop or a toolbox.
"OK that's strange, What kind of a pocket universe casino is this?"
She came to a dark golden double staircase, where each step on both sides were draped in black carpet.
"Tacky, but I guess it's worth taking a look on the second floor. At worst, I just come back down here."
Susan walked up the staircase nearest her (the 1 on the left) and opened the door in the middle. She saw what was apparently the control room for all of the cameras on the main floor.
"I'm probably breaking more than 1 of the house rules just by looking at this thing, but at least I can find where the other eliminated players are."
The 1st screen on the left was focusing on the tournament itself, "No help there, just where I came from." The second screen focused on what Susan deduced was a poorly lit maximum security prison complex. "Fuck me, what the hell is a jail doing here near a casino."
She looked more closely, noticing that all of the inmates looked somewhat alike. "My god...they're keeping the Aarons that they captured from the worlds where he travelled to and from in prison. That is...so barbaric."
Then she sees a jail cell vanish, a ghost come out of the empty space left in between 2 other cells and the gap closed by the cells moving...without propulsion. "That looks like a ghost of that lady that was at table 8...uh...CANDY...that's her name. But what was she doing there when they're all still playing poker over here?"
She then looked above the screen to what she deduced was an L.E.D. screen, showing a number in bright electric red. "5798. Is that how many Aaron's are left? Either way, I've gotta warn the other players somehow that we're all being double crossed."
"You will do NO SUCH THING!"
Susan turned behind her to find Inter-dimensional being #1, staring at her with a horrific smile on his face. Susan scrambled to come up with an explanation, finally settling on telling the truth "I was trying to find the other eliminated players, that's all. I got lost and walked in here by accident. I'm so sorry. Look, why don't I walk out of here and we'll forget that this ever happened, OK?"
The Inter-dimensional being telekinetically slammed all of the doors shut, "That will not be possible. You've seen too much, you have become a loose thread in the entire Aaron-verse. I need to...unfold your fabric."
The Inter-dimensional being then...turned on his eyes. Changing colours in the spectrum that Susan's naked eyes could interpret. "I do believe that you went in here without malicious intent. Which is why I'm just going to kill you, and not completely erase you from existence. I could actually erase every Susan Rhodes who has ever lived but even to me that is just so excessive..."
Susan tried to throw a punch at it but the Inter-dimensional caught it, and squeezed so hard he broke every bone in her hand. "Now where was I? Oh right..." His eyes turned to red, a colour he rarely used. He pushed her away and fired. Susan's last moments alive consisted of her burning to death from the inside, she screamed in desperation, only to be notified "Go ahead and scream all you want, the room is soundproofed." While the inter-dimensional being sat behind the control console paying no attention to Susan, who by now no longer had lungs to draw breath. He did look at the ashes she left behind and remarked, "Not even worth cleaning up"