Josiah and McFancybottom

Josiah Worthland stared at the collapsed man with some interest. He ain’t gonna survive more’n a week here. He thought to himself. It was confusing at first he supposed. Meeting yourself. At least he’d met one of the younger clones, he hadn’t noticed that Sam looked like his younger self ‘til at least an hour after being here. But at least he hadn’t fainted like some yella bellied idiot.

Josiah pressed a button on his magic wrist watch (he didn’t care what they told him about the ‘science’ in it, it had to be some sorta witchcraft). “Hey, I’m gonna need some help down here. McFancybottom went and passed out on me.”

“I’ll send Sam and Kayin down” said Royson Barnaby Breckenridge. What a high and mighty soundin’ name.

“Much obliged, young sir,” with that, he pressed another button to turn off the magic talker. Josiah bent down to get a better look at the new arrival. Oh, lordy, was that how he looked? He pulled at some of the wrinkles branching out from the corners of his eyes. He’d seen portraits of how folks used to dress way back then, but he’d never thought it would look this… well… girly. This Wilhelm guy is wearing a skirt for heaven’s sake!

Kayin and Sam walked in through the door. He gave them a good look too; he hadn’t been here for more than a year, and was still having some trouble with the names.

Kayin Afolayan was a good head taller than himself. Didn’t make much sense if you asked him. If they all started off as the same person, shouldn’t they all end up at the same height? Little Royson had tried to explain it. Roy had a much better head for those things than Josiah. Kayin was fairly easy to identify from the others. He’d started somewhere in Africa, so his skin was real dark compared to a lot of the others. When he was first extracted, he’d been 22 years old, now he’s 27. He’s been here the longest of any of them. Kayin liked wearing man skirts like the newbie. His man skirts weren’t from africa though, they were from Scotsland, or something, and they’re called… kits? cots? something like that. No one questioned Kayin’s stylistic choices though, he was strong enough to squish you good ‘n’ flat with his little finger.

Sam on the other hand… Sam was an angry kid. They’d picked him up last month. He understood this science nonsense better than Josiah too. Sam had started in the United States (best place in the world if you ask me) more’n a hundred years after Josiah. He always wore dark colors, and stuff with spikes comin’ out of ‘em. That’s probably why some folks called him ‘Spike’. Even his hair is spiked up with some sort of glue or gel or something.

Kayin and Sam were carrying a lifter, a long, rounded board. You stick it under someone who’s had an accident, or a fall, then push some buttons, an it lifts them up for you, all by itself. Damn magic.

Author's Note

I know there are some PoV issues, I'm working those out. Thoughts other than that?

Reviews

[EmaleighLynn]

I kinda like this. The story has character, and I'm really interested to see how all these alternate selves play out. The POV isn't hard to follow, I could tell who it was pretty quickly. This is a great idea, and I can't wait to read more.