Deteriorated: by Nick Edinger

     London; covered by a black blanket of people, all moving briskly, all looking at no one, and all named Irene Bardakci; had no smooth brick left. No buildings larger than two stories, save one, were left to hide the presence of millions of identical preteens dressed in countless variations of drab oversized sweaters.

     It was from the sunny balcony of that tallest building that the oldest Irene Bardakci glared past all this. The air’s chills had returned in full force, and no odors or noises invaded her land, so she floated inside of her flat. Little fingers pulsed at her sweater’s side in a quick, soft rhythm.

     Her footsteps echoed as those fingers snatched The Zero, a thick and fragile ring. It was safely hidden in its pouch underneath the erlenmeyers and books on robotics and casings of dust. After a quick scan of the room with widening eyes, she grabbed a forgotten metal piece shaped like a dreidel and stationed it on the many-circled faint red crest in the center of the room. She opened the door to the balcony with a tight tug, letting a large beam of sunlight strike the crest. The white pouch became halfway open, and the girl mouthing out numbers and symbols pinched the thick steel of the Zero. With a balancing breath, she held up the bag between the piece and the sun, then swiftly removed the bag to reveal the large ring inside.

     It went back in the pouch quickly enough. The light that went through the ring, and emerged past the ring greyer than before, only hit the piece. Swiftly, it grew into a peach blob, violently expanding and denting itself, until the world’s youngest Irene Bardakci stood straight in its place.

     This copy of Irene Bardakci was no different from the others: small, frail as glass, and with thin black hair reaching far behind her. Her wet eyes scanned the room with quick darts. She turned away from the folded robe given to her from her lordly duplicate, but eventually put it on and lifted her head.

     Her first noise was an extended gasp. A ceiling, domed and higher than every statue, was encased by a magnificent bookshelf of facts, with their gateways provided by curved ladders. Though workbenches and tools surrounded her, everything shined strong through their layers of dust.

     “How did I get here?” said Irene to the taller version of herself that wore baggy sweaters and colorless braces like her own. She brought a finger to a tensionless tooth; her own braces were gone.

     “You are a copy of myself from two years ago, sans nonorganic possessions” stated the first Irene.  “Other than that, you’re the same woman I was before I was given this.” She carefully held up the heavy white pouch.

     “Given?”

     “Yes. It was someone in shimmering white, wearing glasses from what I could tell. He disappeared after dropping the ring.”

     “I see.” The clone looked at her feet.

     “I brought you here because I want to… talk to someone.”

     “Why me?”

     It was now the original’s turn to look at her feet. The clone glanced outside to see a London nearly leveled. Below her marched a silent parade of doppelgangers, all moving forth to destinations invisible.

     “How did- where is everybody?” The clone’s heightened voice bolted at the departing Irene moments before she reached the door.

     “They’re all like us,” she said, turning back towards her copy. “They are the only ones alive. I am their goddess.”

     “… How did this happen?”

     “I created the first clone by accident, through a flashlight. I was able to keep it hidden and fed, and even used her when I didn’t want to talk to anyone. But then I found out we were moving again.”

     A dull pang smacked the clone’s heart, which triggered a spreading sickness through her gut. Then, her eyes and nostrils broadened.

     “Our family is alive,” interjected Irene. “A team of my women could not bring it to themselves to harm them. We’re keeping them safe.”

     “You took over the world because you were moving?”

     “It’s more complex than that. It was while crying into the arms of my copy that I discovered how much she’d done for me and how little she asked of me. So we ran away from home. Our life savings got us out of town, and we even found a motel room, but that didn’t stop the police from finding us. I panicked, and used Zero on them,” she softly spoke as she motioned to the white pouch. “With them gone, I realized that I would be consistently hunted and that I had ventured far beyond the point of return. I needed everyone to leave me alone.”

     “Months later, I arrived at Washington D.C. and made my way to the top of an observatory tower. The landscape was cleared within seconds, replaced by thousands of myself. Afterwards, air support was obtained, and the rest of the country fell quickly. The world soon united against me, but they were preoccupied with slaying the building wave of preteen girls approaching them and had no idea about my secret.”

     The clone winced slightly, but only for a moment.

     “Now, we are at peace. Zero was enough reason for my world to elect me as their ruler, but everyone carries on so admiringly that I might as well not exist. I finally have time to learn what I want and to achieve all of my projects. But I have since grown without something to do, and no reason for pursuing other things, so I created you. All other clones were fed lies to keep them in place, whether I needed them to farm or work factories. They all trusted me since I controlled both facts and the Zero. You’re the first one I’ve ever opened myself up to.”

     The clone’s eyes combed her trembling storyteller while the sun beat down on them with faint rays. She meekly stated, “I understand.”

     “What did you say?”

     “Your actions seem reasonable to me. We’ve established world peace, brought ourselves solidarity, and created a society where we can accomplish our dreams. Whose to stop us from becoming great scientists and athletes, now that we’re free from everyone else?”

     There was a new coldness emitting from Irene. She then harshly stammered out, “I want you to leave.”

     “Why? I can-”

     In a grey flash, the old clone morphed from a blob to a blob with dents to another one of herself. Irene placed the Zero back in the pouch and straightened her posture.

     “Your dreams have come true,” she commanded. “A life of peace and quiet awaits, where you can achieve your greatest aspirations. But we need you to work in order for that to happen. Report to E-L-0000834 for further instructions. She should be on the lower floor.”

     The quivering clone moved quickly out the door.

     Irene kicked the side of the workbench the moment her copy left. Why on earth did I think that this time would work better than the others?  she thought.  No matter how much worse I word the story, I open up to receive the same responses, that this is something ok. Well, I, I can’t say how, but this is not ok, she cried as she stared at the still-blue sky, the only one left.