Chapter 2: The Substance of Surprise
After the man at the desk had fainted, I gave him a good, friendly knock on the head just to make sure he would stay under for a while (twice). Then I arranged his limp, lolling body comfortably in the coat closet, to be found later by the screaming cleaning ladies. I found myself smiling at the thought, and quickly slapped my face."You look evil." I reprimanded myself, but the grin kept creeping back on to my features. I slapped myself again, for good measure. "Ow." Then I bit my hand, to keep things even.
Closing my eyes and straightening up, I held out my long arms. Then I began to spin in a circle, the stolen trench coat and my shoulder-length darkish hair flying out, like two pairs of wildly flapping wings. After two minutes, I stopped spinning, ignoring my dizziness and instead tugging out my sonic screwdriver. It thrummed its familiar, calming thrum as I took the readings of the random, off-white wall I had ended up facing. "Aha! Just as I thought!" I said, and, closing my eyes, walked through the projected wall into the portal behind it.
***
When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in a long, metal corridor beside a young, angry-looking guy with a large gun.
"Drop the gun, Matthew! I said cheerfully, kicking his left foot. He turned, surprised, and glared at me.
"First off, my name's not Matthew," he began, but I interrupted him before he could say anything more.
"Yes, it is now. I've named you. Come along, Matthew, and drop the gun." I was doing all this in the hope he would be too bewildered to protest. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, but I wasn't going to tell the guard with a large gun on a potentially hostile ship that.
"No." he replied, crushing my hopes and crossing his arms. "Just who do you think you are?"
"Who do I think I am?" I asked Not-Matthew thoughtfully. "Well, someone exceptionally clever."
Not-Matthew smiled suddenly and disconcertingly. He dropped his gun carefully on the floor. "No, you don't." he said grimly, leaving me confused.
"I don't what?" I asked, pacing a short circle around him and making him turn around to keep his eyes on me. "Because I'm quite certain I'm at least elementarily clever. Graduated top of my class, you know."
"No." Not-Matthew said, slight, intriguing sadness tinging his voice. "You don't think. You're just a hologram, like all the rest." He moved to run his hand through me, but his fingers caught on the short strands of my hair.
"Oh my Gods," he said, dropping to his knees, "You're real. You're really real. After all of these years."
For some reason, a smile began creeping its way up my face. A ridiculous, drawn-out grin. I slapped myself. "Ow." But the smile didn't waver.
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