57. The Double.

The two missions couldn’t have gone much better, apart from the fact that Joan of Arc and Frankenstein had now entered the history books as a result of errant hologram behaviour. While those in the War Rooms who felt they had a finger in the successes patted themselves on the back, Glen Mower contented himself with the knowledge that he was now part of this organisation, although the role he would play had yet to be discussed let alone allotted.

Just like Flo Nightingale and Boudicca had experienced, The History Maintenance Commission soon put it right. Glen Mower was instructed to meet Professor Delphi in his office to discuss the course his life would now follow in the service of mankind.

As he approached the closed door, Glen couldn’t help wondering what would be expected of him. To have shared the table with the War Counsel and observed the machinations that enabled history to retain its necessary course entitled him to assume the part he would be offered would be of substantial importance. He couldn’t help but speculate that either he was taking over the Hologram Defense Program from the trigger happy American General or that he would soon be in training to become the world’s first Pastronaut, sent back to deal in person with the historical figures instead of the holograms  with all the complications and possible pitfalls they brought to the party.

The next few minutes he knew would be momentus, and the knock he applied to the door was one that echoed the enormity of the situation he was about to enter. Unequivocal and loaded with resonance.

‘Come in,’ said a very familiar voice. Indeed, so well known to him that Mower automatically paused to gather his thoughts. He knew that voice very well, yet he couldn’t place its owner. ‘Come in,’ it repeated a notch or two louder. And Glen complied.

‘What the…’

‘Now, watch the language,’ Glen Mower advised sat in Professor Delphi’s swivel chair, his legs outstretched on the top of the desk as if to emphasise he was at home. This was far from what Glen Mower felt upon entering and spotting himself.  He was all at sea.

‘What am I doing here?’ the standing Mower said pointing at his seated self.

‘And what am I doing here?’ the seated Glen asked pointing at the standing version.

‘I am here to meet someone very important,’ the feet deployed Mower answered.

‘Me too,’ came the reply.

There was a standoff for a few seconds, and both knowing each other as well as they did they knew it was expected of them to offer the identity of that person they were due to meet at one and the same time. And speaking in the same voice it became apparent that the person they were anticipating meeting was:

‘Profbertsor DeLouis Stephinson.’