Kalle's Story

Kalle's Story

Once, long ago, there was a great mathematician. People traveled from continents away to witness his numerical prowess. He was truly a miracle worker, and he had more prime numbers able to divide into his birth date than there were clouds in the sky.

However, all was not well.

The evils of the world, jealous of the power of the mathematician, sealed his knowledge away into the seas of the earth, far below the soil. There it would remain for thousands of years, untouched by the fingers of civilization. Powerless, the mathematician passed away, and his knowledge was forgotten. However...


* * *

"May I help you, sir?" asked the rather unfocused anteater manning the register.

"Yeah," I told him, slamming the bottle I was holding onto the counter. "This water. Two bucks is enough, right?"

"Uh... let me scan it..." He grabbed the bottle and started slothily spinning it, trying to find the bar code. Incompetent workers like this guy were part of the reason I hated this gas station. How hard is it to scan that? It's just a stupid bottle!

"Yeah," he said dully, "It's only $1.59. May I have your name and some identification, please?"

The employees here had never asked me that before. "My name's Kalle. What do you need the ID for?"

He was writing with a yellow pencil covered in bite marks. "...C...A..."

"No. You spell it with a 'K.'"

"Oh. Whoops." He pressed his worn eraser to the paper and vigorously rubbed it. "That's short for Kalvin, right? You know, 'cause I need to put your full legal name on--"

"No. It isn't. My full name is Kalle. It just sounds the same." I had no idea why people had such a hard time with my name.

"Okay, then, Kalle, I need some ID to prove you're old enough to legally buy this."

I impatiently grabbed onto the counter. "Look," I said, "It's just a bottle of water. I am absolutely sure I have the right to buy water."

"Uh..." He looked over something I couldn't see. "Whoops. Those are the instructions for cigarettes... Sorry for the inconvenience, sir. It'll be $1.59."

I handed him my money. "Hah," I remarked. "Cigarettes. Quickest way to ruin yourself I know of. Other than alcohol, cocaine, heroine..."

I was firmly opposed to recreational drug use, and I think you should be too. I was straight edge and all that. I bore the white X on my right hand's glove proudly. And, of course, since I worse these fingerless gloves pretty much everywhere, my thoughts revealed themselves to people everywhere. I liked it that way.

"Okay," said the cashier as he handed me my beverage, "Have a nice day." I grabbed the bottle and headed for the door.

However, after a bit of struggling with it, I realized the door wasn't going to open.

"Oh, that one must be out of order. Try the other door."

Another wonderful reminder of why I hated that place... I took a quick sip of water and tried the other door. It didn't work either.

"Huh... that's weird. Let me check with the manager." The anteater disappeared into an employees only room. I tapped my foot, waiting for him for a few long minutes. He never returned.

Ah. Wonderful. I was trapped in a gas station I loathed entirely. This sucked. It sucked hardcore.

"Um... alright. This could be worse," I consoled myself. "I don't need to shave," although I never needed to anyway. Geckos don't have facial hair, you know. "Don't need to shower," which was actually true. It wasn't because I was clean-- it was because showering is never an urgency unless you're about to go on a date. "Plus there isn't any crazy psycho I have to beat up before I can leave!" I waited for a moment. It didn't work. Man, why can't the universe have a stronger sense of dramatic irony?

Well, at least I was wearing an exceptionally decent outfit. It was the same old stuff I always wore. Red basketball jersey thing with the number 00 printed on it in white. I didn't play basketball, nor did I know why the clothing company would put that number on there, but it looked cool. It sucked having to explain it to everyone, though. To go along with this was a pair of black pants, magical red sneakers, and the gloves I mentioned earlier. Of course, the X was only on my right glove. I mean, how stupid would it look to have one on both hands? "Yeah, I'm straight edge. TWICE."

I pulled out my iPod for some music. Music's a big part of my life, you know? I guess it's a big part of everyone's life. Everyone smart, anyway. My kind of music was fast, loud, and political. You know, the kind that yells at you to go out and stop air pollution, save the rainforest, or vote Libertarian. Overblown music that sounds more like an opera than rock just doesn't appeal to me much. I mean, yeah, there are some really good singers over in the classic rock genre, but... It's still boring.

My iPod was very reliable. It always ran out of batteries by the time I really needed it. Today was no exception. That thing was the most useless blessing ever.

Oh, boy... I pulled out my cell phone to call my cohort Ciro. He had a car. The station was a five-minute walk away from my place, but he could... you know, knock down a wall with his vehicle if I needed him to. Not that I promote the destruction of buildings or anything.

The familiar dial tone sine wave ended. "Hello?" asked a familiar alligator's voice.

"Hey, Ciro. It's Kalle."

"Oh! Kalle! You sound even more disgruntled than you normally do." Ciro was a little older than me and a bit more... well, intelligent. If you asked me he was more of a smartass than a sarcastic genius. He was the kind of guy who'd throw an insult at someone that would take them a full minute to figure out. It was actually kinda funny sometimes-- provided you weren't the target.

"Yeah, whatever," I told him. "You doing anything?"

"I'm actually involved in a rather exciting game of Go at the moment. It's very close, but I believe I can gain the upper hand if my opponent makes as little as a single mistake. Go's such as fascinating game. It's remarkable how such simple rules form a game more strategically engaging than--"

"I don't care about Go right now. I'm trapped in a freaking gas station."

"What? How did that happen? You tried all the doors, didn't you?"

"Of course I did."

"The windows?"

"I can't open windows in a gas station."

"Really? I bet I could open Windows if I brought my laptop down there."

"...Hah. The operating system, right. Real funny, Ciro. Just drive up here and try to help me, would ya?"

"But I'm in the middle of a rated game! This is Yahoo Go, too. It's rather serious business."

"Look, I don't care! Just come here!"

"How would I assist you, anyway?"

"Maybe there's something blocking the door from the outside. I don't know, just get over here!"

"...Well, I'll have to resign this Go match... I'll be there shortly, but you owe me about 30 rating points."

Ciro hung up. More waiting for me.

I strolled over to the snack section. I figured I might as well grab something to eat. At the very least it would pass a little time. I'd just pay for it later. "Now," I thought, "What to get..." Lays chips were far too greasy and Cheetos spread their orange residue all over my hands... Aha! Fritos! Perfect.

After digging around in the bag for a little bit, I found a folded piece of paper covered in plastic wrap. On the outside, it read "READ ME." I assumed it was referring to the message I'd see if I unfolded the paper. If it meant the message on the outside then it would be a rather pointless statement. It'd be like somebody putting a sign on the air that said "BREATHE ME." It was probably nothing more than a sweepstakes entry, but I checked it out anyway. Boredom was my sole motivation.

I tore open the plastic, unfolded the glossy paper and read it. Outloud. You know, because I like reading things outloud. Look, do I need a reason for everything? Geez.

"Congratulations! You have won a lifetime supply of ancient knowledge! Please, enter the employees only room to begin the prize-claiming process."

...Well, that was a new one. Where they going to give me a printed edition of Wikipedia or something? I then felt a vibration at my hip. My phone was ringing.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Kalle. You're inside the station, right?"

"Of course I am, Ciro. If I wasn't, there wouldn't be a problem."

"Can you be seen from the outside?

"Probably. I'm in the snack isle. Look through the front doors."

"I'm at the station, but neither of the doors are malfunctioning and you're nowhere."

"The doors are working fine? You must be at the wrong place."

"Am I? If I recall correctly, this is the one you utterly despise."

"What?" I asked him. "Look, I swear it can't be. If it was I'd see you."

"...So you're at the other gas station you hate?"

"Is there one I don't hate?"

"Not that I can think of. Actually, you probably should have given more specific directions."

"And you should have asked for them."

"I did!"

"When?"

"I don't know about you, Kalle, but I distinctly remember asking you."

"Okay. Just shut up and get to the one on Fifth Street."

"Certainly! But there are things I must do here first."

"What could you possibly need to do at a gas station?"

"Refill my fuel tank, of course."

"...Okay, bye." I abruptly hung up. Ciro talks a lot.

I strolled around the store a bit, continuing to snack on my Fritos. I passed by the register and glanced towards the employees only room. There was a vague aura of mysteriousness to it. What was back there, anyway? The cashier had entered it and vanished without a trace. The message in a Frito bag mentioned it as well. Whatever was back there must be awfully interesting for them to stay away from the main area of the building.

However, rethinking what was actually in the main area, it was probably rather likely that there was something more interesting back there. Plus, if the cashier had gone back there to see his manager, then his manager must be there. ...Well, at the very least, the cashier should be there.

Since I really didn't have much a good reason not to, I grabbed the doorknob to that door and gave it a twist. What was behind the door was the most surprising thing I had seen since I saw a band retell the French Revolution to the tune of Institutionalized.

It was an impossibly large room with a life-sized sand castle inside it.

I rubbed my hand against my forehead. Nope! Not dreaming. Unfortunately that meant I had to figure out what the heck was going on.

An arrow flew down and landed to my left. There was no apparent source for it, but I assumed there was some archer hidden in the castle. You know, shooting stuff out of a tower window. The more I thought about it, the more I thought I should be running instead of standing there thinking about it. And, so, I ran up to the front gate of the castle, dodging the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Well, the arrows of outrageous fortune at least. It was rather fortunate that I was evading the onslaught of the worst archer in history.

There was a note in the middle of the gateway into the courtyard. It read:

"Dear Chosen i^4,

You win! Like, seriously. Victory is yours. You've paid your dues, time after time; you've done your sentence but committed no crime. So, like, yeah. Why don't you come to the throne room to claim your prize? We've also got coffee and donuts if you want some."

No name was signed.

Well, I figured it was about time to panic. I pulled my cell phone out and dialed Ciro.

"Hey, Ciro!"

"Yes?"

"I'm at a castle, I'm getting multiple messages saying I won, and there's something shooting a ton of arrows at me."

"...Are you under the influence of any hallucinogenic substances?"

"Come on, you know I wouldn't do that."

"What other explanation can you offer for your presence in this supposed castle?"

"Look, I'm not kidding! It's really here!"

"I'm still not convinced."

I started walking to the throne room whilst talking to Ciro. "Okay, why would I make something like this up?"

"Can you retell the events that led up to your arrival at this castle?"

"I walked into the employees only room and I arrived at this castle."

"Terse, aren't we?"

"Look, are you at the station I'm at yet?"

"Not quite-- traffic's rather slow this evening for some reason."

"Get here and head in the employees only room. I swear you'll see what I'm talking about." I hung up.

I walked around, through the courtyard and some of the castle's rooms, generally going in a straight line forwards. It was incredibly convenient that the architect had designed the place in such a way as to allow me to find the throne room easily. Walking around in a building made entirely out of sand was strange, though. I was surprised the place was standing up at all. Sand was by no means a stable building material.

Anyway, I stepped into the throne room. It was rather elaborate-- or at least as elaborate as sand allowed. A "red carpet" of sorts was carved into the floor. The throne itself was carved marvelously into a small dune, and looked surprisingly comfortable. At least, it would be comfortable if the one sitting on it wouldn't get covered in sand. That, and it didn't seem to have a tail hole. Hm... Okay, maybe it wasn't that comfortable looking. Just thinking about sand on my tail makes it itch.

Fortunately, I didn't have to sit on it because there was a regal figure already seated on it. It was dressed in luxurious white garments that showed it was a self-deluded consumerist obsessed with its own good looks. I mean, seriously. This thing had every last pointless clothing accessory I could think of. White gloves, fancy shoes, a top hat-- it even had a masquerade mask on, for crying out loud! I almost had a word or two with it about this except I realized that it was probably some supernatural being that could smite me with a snap of its fingers.

"Um... Hello?" I asked.

It tilted its head up. "Oh! You're here already, aren't you?"

After a short pause, I nodded.

"Oh, darn it. I forgot to prepare the refreshments..."

"The refreshments don't matter. What the heck are you and why the heck did you bring me here?"

"I... um... Geez, this is hard to explain. I waited so long for this to happen, but I forgot to write out a script. Oh well, acting never really was my forte..."

"Just tell me!"

"I'm the spirit of mathematics."

"...You're math?"

"Yes, I am."

"You know I almost failed you Freshman year in high school."

"It doesn't matter! I don't hold grudges. Anyway, let's get to business, shall we? Once, long ago, there was this guy, right?"

"How long ago?"

"Like, really long ago. Thousands of years and stuff. Back when there were still humans walking the Earth."

"Oh, rig-- Wait, what? Humans were real?" Humans, in case you're somehow unfamiliar with them, are mythical creatures that do nothing but consume the environment around them and spread out. They're vile, evil beings, but thankfully they don't really exist. Or so I thought...

"Of course!"

"B-B-B-But how did they die? Why aren't they still around here? I thought they were immortal!"

"Immortal?" It gave a smug laugh. "Hardly. They're no more immortal than you are. All it took was one big flood to take them out."

"...Well, how did we survive?" Things were suddenly getting very interesting.

"It's largely unimportant. The point is that you did and eventually became the way you are today."

"...I guess if they were real, it serves 'em right that they all died. They were freaking evil, anyway."

"You know, your race becomes more and more like these humans every day."

"Bah! It doesn't matter. Let's get back to today. Why am I here?"

"As I was saying, there was once a man incredibly good at math. But, like, some other people got jealous so they sealed his math power in an underground aquifer and stuff."

"I bet that sucked for him."

"Yeah, kinda. But it doesn't matter, because you just recently got really lucky!"

"What did I do, anyway?"

"You remember that bottle of water you had a drink from?"

"Yeah."

"The water come from the exact same aquifer I speak of!"

"...And?"

"...And that means that you are the heir to a vast amount of mathematical fortune!"

"I inherited math by drinking this water?"

"Yes!"

"That's boring."

"Allow me to make it more interesting, then. Shall I?"

"You want my permission to make it more interesting? Why would I say no?"

"...Okay! You have a choice." The spirit of math extended both of its arms in front of me. "In my right hand, there is all the mathematical knowledge imaginable. Should you choose this you will likely go down in history as the smartest person in the world, not to mention the inventor of, like, a million things. You could change the universe you live in for the better, and in a very big way."

"How did you fit all that in your hand? I mean, I have trouble just carrying a textbook sometimes."

"You'd understand it perfectly if you had all the mathematical knowledge imaginable. Now, my left hand. If you choose my left hand... well, you'll get some kind of math power that would pretty much benefit nobody but you."

"Wait, what? Really?"

It gently nodded.

"Well," I said, "Screw that knowledge. Give me the math power!"

"...But don't you want to make the world a better place?"

"Not a whole not; no."

It sighed. "Oh, fine..." It turned its left hand over and slowly let it open. I was expecting some mystical magical stuff to start happening. You know, like orbs of light floating up out of his palm, circling around me, and then moving through me, transferring some of their relaxing warmth to my body.

I was wrong. Some kind of tiny creature with no eyes and really sharp teeth appeared in his hand, then jumped and latched onto my face. I took time to yell, of course.

"AHHHHHHH!" Afterwards I started running around the throne room, unable to see anything, my arms flailing to my sides. Unfortunately I promptly ran into a wall and was knocked unconscious. You know, it's really surprising how one can become unconscious when something is eating one's face.

A few minutes later, when the excruciating gnawing ceased, I woke up with a slight headache and an itchy tail. The headache seemed to make sense, though. There was no mystery as to where it originated. The tail was what I chose to focus on. The sand must have had needles mixed in for it to be as irritated as it was. I mean, seriously. It hurt like a... I don't even know what to compare it to. I instinctively swung it around where I could see it, just to check to see if there were any wounds.

It was at this moment I realized why it was so painful. My tail wasn't there.

Paranoid, I checked my arms to make sure nothing else was happening to me. I couldn't seem to notice anything else different. my arms were still tan and scaly like they had always been, so it wasn't like I was turning into a... well, into not a gecko. Yeah. It seemed like the only thing that really happened was something cutting off my tail. You know, but it's not like that's nothing to worry about.


Anyway... yeah. No tail. Completely gone. Not good. Better tell Ciro about it.

My cell phone played its ever-familiar dial tone.

"Hello?" asked Ciro.

"Ciro! This keeps getting weirder."

"It's possible for it to become less credible than it already was?"

"Stuff it, Ciro! I'm not making this up!"

"Well, what happened this time?"

"I met the spirit of math, something bit me in the face, and my tail got chopped off."

Ciro started snickering.

"Look! You're not helping here, Ciro. I'm missing a pretty significant fraction of my body. I mean, I bet I can't even walk because my balance is off."

"I sincerely doubt that. Have you even tried? It's not like you're immobile whilst carrying a heavy crate, and that alters your center of gravity more dramatically than--"

As he was talking, I took a test walk, stepping forward at a casual pace. I stumbled during his discourse. My phone flew out of my hand rather predictably. Brushing myself off, I grabbed the phone and put it back up to my ear. ...Well, not actually my ear, but you get the idea.

"Now," continued Ciro, "If you were carrying, say, a three hundred pound African woman on your back, then I might understand your difficulty in maintaining your balance. However, then I would be most curious as to who this woman was, why you were carrying her, and whether or not she was your girlfriend. If she was, of course--"

"Okay, I get your point Ciro. The thing is that I did try walking, tripped, and nearly buried my face in the sand. You know, without the three hundred pound chick. Which I'd never date in a million years, just so you know."

"What if she were the heiress to a vast fortune founded from a diamond mine?"

"Who cares? She's ugly! I mean, like, manlier than you are."

"...I'm shocked, Kalle. That one truly stung."

"Well, I'm kinda shocked you aren't doing anything to help me." I paused, frustrated.

"...Okay," replied Ciro, "I can tell you're not acting in jest."

"Thank you! Finally!"

"So, what are all the obstacles facing you?"

"Let's see... I'm in an indoor giant sand castle, something offed my tail, and I've been given math powers because of some water I drank."

"What was that?"

"It's... hard to explain. Some old mathematician dude had his math prowess sealed in an underground reservoir. Just recently some company tapped into that reservoir and bottled that water. I drank it, which makes me special for some reason."

"...Bizarre. Is that it?"

"Well... Actually, I also kind of need to use a restroom."

"I can't say I needed to know that..."

"Well, it's not my fault this gas station doesn't have a restroom."

"Isn't there something else? You mentioned arrows earlier, didn't you?"

"Oh yeah! I guess there's also someone trying to kill me."

"Ah. Well, that's just brilliant."

"Tell me about it. This is without even mentioning that--"

"Hey, Kalle? I have another call. I'll get back in touch with you soon, alright?"

"What? Another call?"

"...Yeah. Another call."

"Could it possibly be any more important than this?"

"Yes?"

"...Whatever. Just don't take long."

"Until later." Ciro hung up.

"Okay... What should I do?"

That was the only thought going through my head. It would be good for me to regain my sense of balance and get used to moving again. Plus, on the off chance that whatever shot those arrows at me earlier is actually still after me, standing still would not be a very bright idea. So, I ultimately decided to walk around. You know, just a little bit. Not too much.

So that's what I did. I walked. You know, just wanted to reiterate that. My equilibrium returned after about a minute of walking, fortunately. I mean, not like there's any situation in which that would be unfortunate, but... Man, I think too much when I don't have any music. Anyway, I rounded a corner and could not contain my amazement.

Another empty hallway.

For being such a mysterious building, this castle sure had a monotonous interior.

"Crap." I shouldn't have thought that. Dramatic irony was going to kick in any second. Appropriately enough, an arrow flew by me at approximately 2.5 meters per second with a trajectory that could be expressed as a variation of the parent curve e^-x and forming a ten degree angle with a line parallel to the walls.

Wait, what did I just say?

"Wh... Who's there?" I asked. Hopefully this guy could understand English. Regular English, to be specific.

His response was a maniacal laugh.

"...Uh, really. Who is it? I don't know."

More cackling.

"Just tell me who the heck you are before I surgically remove your liver."

Another short snarl, then, "Mere liver threats do not intimidate me. I am everything and I am nothing. At the same time. "

"Oh, come on. You're not one of those mysterious new age types, are you? Besides, you have to be something because I'm here talking to you."

"Or are you?"

"...Cut the crap. Just tell me who you are."

"I... am the image of everything you fear. I am your deepest hatred born into flesh. I am... Hey, are you listening?"

"Not really. No," I told him.

"Geez. You know, all I really want to do is kill you and have a nice dramatic presentation to go along with it. I've been waiting for the opportunity for, like, a jillion years. Is it really so much to ask?"

"Dying would just be a little inconvenient to me, you know?" My cell phone began ringing. "Hey, could you run off and try again later? I just got a call."

"Oh, fine. I royally screwed up this time, anyway. Just remember... I'm going to get you, and I'm going to be a lot more sneaky about it next time." After these words, the thing went silent. I assumed he had left.

I answered my cell. "Ciro? What is it this time?"

"¡Hola! ¿Tú eres triste?"

"...What?"

"La gimnasio es fantastico. Es--"

My cell phone snapped shut. Freaking telemarketers. I don't want any of their crap even when they're selling it to me in English.

Grumbling, I put my cell phone back in my pocket and started moving own the hall again. In the opposite direction of that guy who wanted to kill me, of course. I knew he wasn't in this direction because he went away and I didn't see him cross my path. In addition, I highly doubted his walking speed was rapid enough to circle the entire castle in that amount of time, so the probability of him actually being there was nearly zero.

Since when did I need a big logical explanation for something like that? Something was obviously up in my head.

My phone rang again, but I noticed something peculiar as I reached for it. Well, the lack of something peculiar, I guess. My tail had grown back. Not just started to grow back, but completely there.

I suppose it wasn't entirely unusual for the tail to come back. Actually, it had come off before when I was younger. I was about eight... I had this bad wreck after riding a bicycle down a hill. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the smartest thing to do in the first place, but afterwards my parents told me that, since I'm a gecko, there's nothing disastrous coming off. It was some leftover defense mechanism, like an appendix but more useful.

But anyway. Back to the present. My tail had grown back unusually fast. Obviously, something strange was going on here. I don't just mean the sand castle and the guy trying to kill me and Ciro being completely unhelpful, either.

Speaking of whom, I got a call on my cell phone.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Kalle! Alright, sorry about that. My phone signal dropped off for a second. Where were we?" It was certainly Ciro, alright.

"You lost your signal? Last time you were talking to me you said you got another call."

"Yeah, I thought I did, but I think it was just your phone messing up. I was still talking to you afterwards, at least."

"What the heck are you talking about? I've been off the phone for a good bit now."

"...You have? Wait, then that means..."

"Who were you talking to?"

"Kalle, someone's very good at impersonating your voice."

Someone mimicking me? For someone as obsessed with individualism as I, the idea was as downright insulting as it was frightening.

"...What?" I asked with concern.

"That goes without mentioning his impeccable attitude and dialect. He was almost better at being you than you are!"

"Hah. Right. Who is he?"

"I... can't say. He just went by your name, your voice, your diction, your syntax, and the other paraphernalia supposedly unique to yourself, so I assumed it was you."

"...I think I might know who it is. You know how someone shot a ton of arrows at me earlier?"

"I suppose so, yes. It's a compelling hypothesis. Did you have another rendezvous with him?"

"Yeah-- but he was around a corner, so I couldn't see him. He said a whole bunch of ominous stuff about how he wanted to kill me. ...Of course he didn't sound very much like me, but what if he decided to do so after that point?"

"But that doesn't seem logical, now that I ponder over it-- You conversed with him very recently, didn't you? How could he talk to both you and myself simultaneously?"

"It makes just as much sense as all the other random crap going on here," I sneered. "Besides, can you come up with something better?"

Ciro sighed. "Admittedly, no."

"Well..." I heard the echoes of a pair of feet trudging down the hallway around the corner. Or maybe it was actually the footsteps themselves, rather than the echoes. Sand seems like the kind of thing that would absorb sound rather effectively, doesn't it? Regardless, I couldn't really tell. "Wait! I hear something!"

"What?"

I lowered my voice. "I think he's coming. What should I do?"

"Assume he's friendly and willing to negotiate. That's the policy of an effective diplomat. Think about it: you don't want to get on negative terms with this guy. He may very well have the ability to do things we cannot possibly comprehend."

"What? Screw that. We're not talking about Cthulhu here. I'm just going to jump him right when he rounds the corner."

"That's... possibly rather foolish of you, but I suppose I'm incapable of stopping you."

"Alright. Bye." I hung up my phone and got ready to strike.

I cleared my throat and spoke. "I know you're right around this corner."

"...What? You again?" came the response in a voice similar to my own.

"Yep. And this time..." I cracked my knuckles. Hopefully the cracking noise was actually loud enough for this guy to hear. "I'm going to do what I ought to have done in the first place."

"Well, why don't you stop imitating me first? You're bright enough to think of your own voice, aren't you?"

"Me? Imitating you?" I laughed. "Good one. For someone psychotic you've got a keen sense of humor."

"Really? Well, thanks for the compliment, but..." I heard a sound vaguely resembling the cracking of knuckles. I guess it can be done loud enough to be heard around a corner in this place. "I'm just wondering why you aren't doing your evil cackling shtick from earlier."

"...You were the one doing that, weren't you?"

"No I wasn't."

"Yes you were."

"No I wasn't."

"Yes you were."

"No I wasn't."

"Gah! Just shut up about it already!"

"You started it!"

"Enough already!" I maneuvered around the corner, my arms ready to launch a punch. I fixed my eyes on my target. At first it was just another humanoid shape, but then... it got very eerie. This guy didn't just imitate my voice and personality-- he looked almost identical to me. Trying to do this was almost like trying to hurt myself.. It... just didn't feel right.

Of course, he dodged it. Rather swiftly, I might add. He was good. I'm sure it would have been a very interesting battle if we had actually fought. But, we didn't. We just stared at each other. Left eye to left eye, right eye to right eye. He lifted his right hand and I lifted mine. We both reached out to touch each other on the cheek...

He was solid. He was real. And he was exactly like me.

I can be certain that we came to this realization at the same time, as we simultaneously fainted.

I would probably have remained unconscious for a bit longer if I hadn't gotten a call from Ciro on my cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Kalle-- It's Ciro again. Fill me on what happened."

"Could you wait a second? Head into the gas station/castle and try to find me-- well, us."

"...'Us'? You found the impersonator?"

"Sorta-- but he's... well, not how I thought he'd be." At this time, the very man I was talking about was beginning to wake up.

"So I take it he didn't kill you?"

"Yes," I said, "But you could probably tell that already."

After a short yawn, the impersonator asked me, "Who are you talking to?"

I covered the phone with my palm. "Uh... nobody." I uncovered it. "Look, dude. I gotta go. Seriously."

"I better call Ciro and tell him what's happened," said the other guy. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and began browsing its address book.

"Who's that with you? The other fellow?" asked Ciro."

"I... man, it's hard to ex--" I began to say. the impersonator had his phone to the side of his head by now.

"Can I get back to you on this, Kalle?" asked Ciro. "I'm getting another call."

"Ciro, that call's from--" Click. He hung up.

"Hello?" asked the impersonator. "Yeah, this is Kalle. What? Well, I ran into this guy who looks and sounds like me. Yeah, I think-- well, let me check." He turned to face me, covering his phone. "Your name is Kalle, right?"

"...Yes," I said.

The impersonator-- should I call him Kalle or not?-- turned back to his phone. "He says it is. ...Yeah, really funny, Ciro. What? The same person? That's just ridiculous. How can you prove that, anyway?"

"You can't," I jutted in.

"Ah, crap. He's talking to me again."

"Quit acting like I'm some unintelligent piece of pond scum! I know who Ciro is too! I was talking to him 20 seconds ago!"

"He says he knows who you are and was talking to you twenty seconds ago. He was? ...Okay, this is getting confusing. Can you just come here? Alright, thanks. Bye." He snapped his phone shut.

"Okay," I said to him, "We need to get the facts straight. What's going on?"

"Easy. You're just impersonating me."

"But I know I'm not."

"What if you're 'unintentionally' copying me?"

"Why would I do that?"

"How should I know? You're the one that's doing it."

"Grrr..." I grumbled in frustration. "You don't make any sense!"

"I make just as much sense as you do!"

"Let's assume you're right," I said, "and I am unintentionally acting exactly like you. How am I even able to do it?"

"...I guess that's a good point, yeah. I don't remember anyone stalking me that closely. Unless..." He stuck his hand in his pocket.

"What are you doing?"

"Testing something. You have an iPod, don't you?"

"Yeah..." I pulled mine out. "The battery's dead right now, though."

"Huh. Mine is too... They look exactly the same, and this isn't exactly the kind of thing you could have fabricated."

"See? That proves it! I'm not just imitating you!" Of course, it also meant that he wasn't imitating me...

There was a silence.

"So..." I said. "That means you're just a duplicate of me?"

"I guess so." he said. "Either that, or you're a duplicate of me."

"Debating that is a pointless exercise in philosophy at this point." It was, however, a pretty disturbing though. I mean... what if I was the duplicate of him and everything I remembered doing I didn't actually--

"Kalle?" asked the other guy, grabbing me with both of his arms, "What if I'm the duplicate?"

"Geez! You think I'm not worried about the same--" I was planning on complaining, but eventually helping him. Then I rethought things. Consider this: let's say he did think he was the duplicate, whether he really was or not. I was sure I could convince him with some kind of faulty appeal to ethos-- you know, just fabricate some evidence or something. Sure works for newscasters and politicians, doesn't it? And wouldn't it be useful to have someone equal to me as a lackey? Someone completely submissive to order around...

"Okay, I'll spoil it for you. You are," I said.

"...Huh?" he replied.

"The duplicate. You're just a duplicate of me that I created, you haven't actually done half the stuff you remember doing, blah blah blah."

"But how do you know that?"

"'Cause I'm the original, duh. I made you. Isn't that enough proof?"

"No?"

"...Do I really have to do this? Alright... Turn around for a second."

He released me and did as I instructed. I took a look at the back of his head. It was perfectly tan, as it should have been. There wasn't a spot on it anywhere.

"Yep! Right here on the back of your head. There's a big black spot saying you're the duplicate."

"Really?" asked the duplicate.

"Of course! I mean... well, you'd have a bit of trouble seeing it yourself considering its location, but why would I lie to you?"


"...Well, I guess I can trust you on this." I could not help but crack a slight grin. "But how did you make me?"

"Oh! I just used... uh... I did it with... it's hard to explain; don't think too much about it. Just remember your purpose in life is to serve me absolutely."

"Okay. Anyways..." He exhaled deeply. "Gimme a second to digest all this, would ya? I practically had my entire existential worldview reconfigured just now."

"Yeah, I understand. Just don't lean on me." There was a short pause. "So, you think we should head to the front of the castle and wait for Ciro?"

"I guess we don't have much else to do. ...You ever get that feeling where you just do stuff out boredom, rather than because you really want to do it?"

"Yeah. I get that a lot."

Before I knew it, I was in the courtyard with the duplicate closely behind me.

"So," said he, "What are we going to do once he gets here, anyway?"

"Ciro?" I asked. "I dunno."

A long pause.

"Any ideas?" I questioned.

"Nope. You?"

"Nothing."

Another pause.

"Whatever happened to that one guy who wanted to kill us?" asked the duplicate.

"Huh?"

"Well, I know you didn't want to kill me. ...Well, at the very least you didn't really want to kill me. It'd be counter-productive, wouldn't it?"

"Of course! ...So that means there's someone still after us?"

"After one of us, to be more precise. We'd probably be best off if we assume he doesn't know there are two of us, just to be on the safe side."

"Very true. If he found out, things could get pretty sticky."

"I wonder what his motives are. Has anything happened to you recently that would make someone want to kill you?"

"Uh... Well, I did get blessed by some math spirit. I mean, like, with math powers. Not math knowledge.

"Oh yeah. I remember that."

"If you remember it then why did you ask?"

"Hey! I'm not used to talking to myself!" complained the double. "What if this guy's a math-phobic or something?"

"You mean he hates math and wants it to die?"

"Exactly."

I pondered this for a moment. "That sure sucks for the guy who basically got math powers out of sheer randomness."

"Tell me about it. Though, I've gotta say I can think of a couple classmates of mine who feel the same way about the subject..." He glanced around. "Hey, is that Ciro over there?"

"What?" He pointed out beyond the gate. Surely enough, there was the scaly, mint green alligator I knew all too well walking up to the castle gates. He was suited up in a meticulously groomed white t-shirt. Its short sleeves were a distinct red color, as was a little ring-shape around the neck. To complement this garment, he chose a durable pair of brown pants that had obvious signs of wear-in. Finally, his shoes were... Man, what color are his shoes? Geez, I can't remember. At least I've been able to remember the rest of the story well enough. I'll just let this minor detail slide.

"Hey!" I exclaimed. "You're finally here!" Took him long enough.

"Nice to see you, Kalle," said Ciro, waving. "...Twice."

"Yeah..." said the double, "It's a little strange."

"I can imagine. This doesn't, coincidentally, have anything to do with your recently acquired math powers, does it?"

"It would make sense," said the double. "You know. Multiplying."

"But what about the rest of math?" I asked with curiosity. "There are other math operations, right? Adding, subtracting, dividing, squaring... uh..."

Ciro added, "Exponents, natural roots, matrices, cosines?"

"Dude," said the double. "I'd hate to see how I act out a cosine. It sounds painful."

"Well, you're already rather good at going off on tangents."

...I should have seen that one coming.

"Hey," I said to Ciro, "Just keep in mind that we outnumber you now. Too much humor of that sort might be something you regret."

"What? I thought he was actually relatively clever that time," said the double.

I grabbed him by the neck of his jersey. "You wanna say that again?"

"Kalle! This is nothing to beat yourself up over," said Ciro. My shoulders dropped.

"...Okay," said the double, "I agree with you this time. That one was a dud."

"Cornier than Orange County?" I asked.

"Uh... The joke goes 'Cobb County.' Doesn't it?"

"Oh. I knew that. ...But I don't guess Orange County is really that corny, either."

"...Yeah, you're right. Ciro was cornier than Orange County. You know, even if that's not a particularly impressive feat."

"Very true. I'm glad we're both always right."

"...So you wanna put me down now?"

I began to set him down when Ciro pointed to the side of us with is infinitely majestic index finger. "Gentlemen," he said, "Who's that fellow behind you two?"

"What?" I turned to look. "Oh. Crap." It was a figure shrouded by a cloak nearly the same color as the sand. I could make out the shape of a crude quiver, albeit an empty one, strapped onto his back. This wasn't what worried me. I was worried about the big pointy stick he was carrying.

The double turned to face me. "Uh..."

"What's the hold up?" I asked him. "Run! Ciro and I will deal with this guy."

Ciro chimed in with, "Wait. Wouldn't we be better off with all three of us standing against this brigand rather than merely two?"

"No," I explained whilst the double hid around the corner.

"But that's absurd. Why?"

"We have a psychological advantage this way. He doesn't know about this other guy, so--"

A gentle tapping arrived on my back. I swung around to find my nemesis much closer than I had anticipated.

"Hey," he said, "Are you almost done?"

Compelled by his weaponry, I replied, "Y... Yes."

"Okay. Sorry if I interrupted anything." He cleared his throat. "KAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAN," thundered his evil cackle. "I've finally got you right where I want you!"

"And this is only your second attempt, isn't it?" asked Ciro with a snicker.

"That is indeed correct, mortal scale being whom I don't actually know!" He laughed again. "...Oh, wait a sec." He put his right hand out and clearly counted three fingers. "Yeah, uh... actually this is the third time. However, it matters not, for this is almost certainly going to be the last time!"

"You can't remember how many times you've tried to kill me?" I asked with disbelief. "You really suck at math."

"What did you say?" shouted he with panic.

"...Math?"

"Oh, math... How I loathe thee! I how I utterly despise your contents. how I detest your variables. How I hate your--"

Interrupting this guy's soliloquy, Ciro demanded, "Why do you have such a vendetta against math?"

"Why? Because everyone else is better at it than me! Especially that one guy..."

A light bulb went off in my head. It was of the environmentally sound fluorescent sort. Things were starting to make more sense.

"Is this guy some badass mathematician who has more prime factors than there are clouds in the sky?"

"YES!" he yelled, writhing. "Yes, that's the one... I was so jealous of his mathematical prestige that I sealed it away in a watery tomb in the depths of the Earth!"

"How'd you do that, anyway?"

"It was a malevolent recipe for rice soup! I mixed in some spices I found in the side of some tree and served it in a clay pot forged with hatred. I even engraved little angry faces on the sides."

"With V-shaped eyebrows?"

"Of course! All of this was just for extracting his math abilities, though."

"...Well, what did you use to actually bury them?"

"Oh, a shovel."

"Right. Uh... Anyway, I think we've settled everything, so Ciro and I will just make our leave."

"No! I still have to kill you! I must keep the ancient math power out of the land of the living!"

"Would you hang on a moment? There's something I must discuss with Kalle," said Ciro.

"Come on! I'm growing impatient. Can't you just talk with him about it after I kill him?"

"That would prove somewhat difficult. All we ask is that you allow us a quick conference. We'll even go around this corner over here so we do not disturb you with it. When we're done, I'll let you slaughter my friend in any manner you wish."

I was stunned. "Ciro, what the heck are you--" He grabbed me by the arm and launched me down the hallway in which my double was hiding.

The double seemed somewhat concerned about my well-being. "Whoa. You just slid, like, five feet."

"I'm aware of that," I groaned.

"Since when was Ciro that strong, anyway?"

"He isn't. I'm just... light."

Ciro came strolling along towards me. "Sorry for that, Kalle, but it was compulsory."

"It's..." I wanted to say it was fine, but it really wasn't.

"Now, anyway," said Ciro, "Which of you two is the original?"

"I am," I said.

"He is," the double said.

Ciro faced the double. "Well, good news! You have the opportunity to sacrifice yourself for a greater good."

"Um... what?" he replied.

"You actually have two options here, I suppose. On one hand, you could let this crazy fellow slay you. This would allow the remaining two of us to escape. On the other hand, you could allow the marauder to take the life or your originator. This would allow you and myself to escape."

"...I choose the latter?"

"But you'll live the rest of your life with guilt that you let Mr. Original die in your place," I added.

"...Uh... So? It's better than dying, isn't it? I... don't... care..."

"You don't care? About me?"

"Why should I? You don't care about me; you're hoping that I choose to die."

"Yeah, but... I made you! I have the right to do that!"

"And what if I was the one who made you? I mean, I know I'm not, but... we're exactly the same, you know."

"...But... but..."

"Kalle, I... don't want to die."

There was an eerie silence.

"Ahem..." said Ciro. "Gentlemen? I need a decision. Promptly."

"Promptly?" I asked. "We're having a pretty major issue here. Can't you worry about something other than promptness?"

The double was staring off into space, pondering something. His eyes had a reflection of fear within them. "Kalle," he repeated, "I don't want to die."

Ciro walked up beside me. "He's not going to do this easily, is he?"

"Definitely not," I replied. "...I kinda feel sorry for the guy..."

"Hm... I don't understand how his mind works, but he should have realized this was his inevitable fate. He's nothing more than an imitation of yourself, doomed to break at the will of his creator.

"Yeah... What if there's some way to bring him back? In a new body?"

"I personally doubt that, unfortunately. There's simply no way to prove it's the same individual."

"...I guess you're right. ...Would that idea make him more willing to serve his purpose, though?"

"Manipulating others through spirituality? Isn't that one of the things you tenaciously oppose?"

"What? That's nothing like-- That's exactly what I'm doing. Damn it."

"You understand why others try doing the same thing now, don't you?"

"Yeah... And it makes a lot more sense now." I took a subconscious look around and noticed the double walking towards the end of the hallway. He was approaching his fate.

"Hey!" I shouted. "You don't have to do this!"

"I..." he replied, "Don't want to die, but there are some things more important than that. All this stuff I have-- friends, family, possessions, my iPod... none of it really matters. ...Except maybe the iPod." He coughed. "But anyway, I guess I'm lucky to know what my purpose in life is. Other people spend years upon years searching for it, but never find it. Here I am with purpose practically thrust upon me, and I'm rejecting it. Such is the act of a true fool."

"But... That's wrong! Your friends and family are important-- you're important to them! Nobody can tell you what you have to do with your life! Not even me!"

"I understand, Kalle," said the double, "But this is what I want to do. It's better than selfishly staying alive."

"You're being stupid."

"I don't care. I've made up my mind. This way, at least you and Ciro can live."

I couldn't think of what to say. He took his final step into plain view of his future killer. He waved and spoke in a melancholy tone, "My time with you was nice, however brief it was. And, well... Goodbye."

That idiot. That complete, total, idiot.

The flow of time itself slowed down to a crawl. To the side of the double was the tip of a spear. It gracefully flew through the air and plunged into his side.

Time sped back up to accompany the double's running around in a tight circle and subsequent screaming of "OHMYGODHOMYGODTHEPAINITHURTSSOMUCH. OWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW." He collapsed on his back with his tongue sticking out and distinctive Xs on his eyes.

"...Well," said Ciro, "That was anticlimactic."

"Very," I added. "At least it was short."

"But I suppose we can't critique his lack of dramatic flair. After all, I know I've never died before."

"Oh?" responded I with bleeding sarcasm. It bled much in the way bodily fluids were bleeding out of the corpse beside us. "You sure about that?"

"Rather. I've not even considered the idea. Now, I suppose I should check for that brigand. He should be gone momentarily, but please do not cause much noise in the meantime."

"Yeah, I can do that. I'm just glad we're finally going to get outta here." While waiting, I overheard the conversation between Ciro and the guy who totally pierced someone's side a few minutes ago.

"So," began Ciro. "Is that it?"

"Uh... Yeah, actually. I killed him and looked cool doing it. I really did everything I intended to do."

"Excellent! Will you be on your way, then?"

"I guess so. Bye."

Ciro returned.

"You know," I said, "Despite the fact that someone had to die, that psycho was actually pretty easy to get rid of."

"Indeed," replied Ciro. "I almost wish all of these picaresque types were like this."

"Now... Let's get the heck out of here."

"Where is the exit?"

"...Uh..."

"You have no idea, do you?"

"No."

A mysterious third voice piped in. "I know!"

Turning around I shouted, "Gah! I wish people would stop popping up behind-- oh. It's you."

The Spirit of Math looked at me with a distinctive smile on his eyes.

"Wait... Kalle, this man dressed in white is the embodiment of all things mathematical?" Ciro asked me.

"Yeah," I replied. "He is."

Ciro approached him. "I wish to confirm that, if you don't mind... Oh Great Spirit of Math, what is the last digit of pi?"

"That's an easy one," replied the Spirit of Math. "It's three."

"Haha! You're a fraud! Pi is irrational, you see. It has no terminating digit."

"How do you know you're not wrong about that?"

"Because... Well, I suppose you have a point, there."

"Anyway," I interrupted, "Why are you back here? You need to tell me something else?"

"I just wanted to congratulate the chosen one on eliminating that perpetual threat to the power of math: anti-intellectualism."

"Oh, really? Well, it wasn't easy, I'll tell you that..."

"I'm sure it wasn't. But you fellows want out of this place, don't you?"

"Indeed," said Ciro. "This scenery has grown tiring."

"'Kay." the math spirit waved an arm and made a starry portal open up. "Just follow me this way."

Ciro took a look at the portal. "Wait. How did you fabricate this?"

"The portal? Oh, it's real easy. Do you know what the general rotation matrix is?"

"I do."

"I just used that."

"Please, explain. That doesn't make sense whatsoever."

"Well, let's start walking..."

It was about this time that I zoned out of the conversation. The whole mathemagical portal thing was pretty weird. I've never been so sick of space as I was after that. I was even glad to be back in the gas station, if that gives you any hint. Afterwards, the math spirit left us, I climbed into the passenger seat of Ciro's car, and we started heading home.

"So," said Ciro whilst driving, "Did you hear?"

"Hear what?" I replied.

"Oh, it's nothing special. Just something the Math Spirit told me."

"Well, what was it?"

"You do remember how he said he wanted to congratulate the chosen one for his accomplishments?"

"Yeah."

"He's still looking for him."

"...Wait, so does that mean the double..." I leaned over and yelled at Ciro's face. "WHAT?"