Mich Me Michael

Part 3: The Other

A few weeks later, the consciousness transfer was a success, and Sophie noted that she barely had to do any work since everything was already set up. She only allowed herself to make some subtle efficiency improvements. The capsule began to drain the viscous liquid, and a new Michael took his first breath in front of them.

The clone woke up on a cot with pristine sheets in the adjoining room. The place was perfectly prepared for what was to come, both the good and the bad. In front of him, a beautiful young woman with chestnut hair and red highlights looked at him with enthusiasm, wearing an adorable pink nurse outfit.

—You have beautiful eyes. Are they green or gray? —the clone asked drowsily, trying to clear his mind. 

—They are, Michael told me the same when he met me —she said, pleased that the new Michael was awake—. They're very light green. 

—What's the status of the original Michael? —the clone asked, fully understanding his situation. 

—Your body is a biological and natural replica of my genetics, created in this lab, the only one that exists. We were winning the war against the Feras, as you must remember, but they used a spore-based biological weapon that turned our air into a deadly trap for humans and took over the surface. At first, we thought it was anthrax, but it's something much more complex. I've been working on the cure for three years without success —Michael explained the situation without hesitation. 

—That's why I have your memories. I know about the existence and possibility of being a clone from our grandfather, but I have no knowledge of the spores or this lovely young lady because you didn't upload them to my mind. Years of work and frustration might be causing a block, and you need a brilliant mind with a fresh perspective to see things anew based on the progress made in these years. And that's me, well, you. 

—Yes.

The clone reclined on the bed, aware that the health protocol involved several tests and would be a tedious process. Without saying another word, Michael began to analyze the data on the screen, then drew blood from him and continued to take notes on a portable screen.

—How boring you are. Why does the clone Michael look younger than the original Michael? —Sophie asked while examining the patient's face, devoid of bags or wrinkles. Even his hair was completely black and without gray strands. 

—Stress —they answered in unison.

—Although both of us are 33 years old, the "original" Michael has been through more critical situations, and I'm sure he hasn't slept well in years —he said, looking at Sophie and taking one of the red locks that fell to the side of her bangs—. Are we dating, Sophie? How did such a bitter and uncommunicative Michael win over a girl as lovely as you? 

Sophie smiled and approached him playfully. 

—No, clone Michael, we're not dating because your original self says he has no time for nonsense, although I always tell him he could use a little love. 

—Sophie, leave him alone —said Michael without looking at them. 

—I got jealous of myself, this is great —said the clone. 

—Clone Michael, do you want to be my boyfriend? —Sophie asked, amused. 

—Of course I do —he responded immediately. 

—Yes! That means now we're also dating because you are him! —said Sophie triumphantly, pointing at the original Michael, who was starting to regret the plan. 

He needed help, not more problems and distractions.

As if he knew what he was thinking, the clone, laughing, elbowed the original Michael. They were the same person but at different levels of relaxation. When the clone realized the challenge ahead, they would be equally focused and determined in no time. Michael sighed; he didn't remember being so chatty three years ago. Perhaps the lack of sleep and constant threat of death could change a person's nature and behavior.

—Yes! Now I have two boyfriends! —celebrated Sophie with a charming little dance—. But, what should we call you? It will be confusing if you're just Clone Michael. 

—Mich is fine —they answered in unison.