The Clones of Zero G. 

A space ship. I’m refreshing my zero gravity training. I pass through huge pressure doors, a bit nervous. There are three women delivering the training. They are like counsellors. They allow us to play and explore I stand in the ceiling, and practice trying to move if I don’t have a surface to push off. We dance, it’s fun, and flirty, and hilarious. The room fills with a hurricane of young, Irish, girl dancers in traditional dress. In the centre of the whirling dance, a girl called Emily, takes my hand and leads me safely through the swirling throng.

I’m cooking. A friend sees me, and shouts at me. He’s seeing someone else, not me. He thinks I’m Sophie Dahl. He speaks to me in German. He looks unwell. I tell him who I am. We go in search of a third opinion. Tom sees me as yet another crew member. Something is wrong. No one can see who I really am. The room fills with crew. Someone explains that if they take me down to engineering, it will all make sense. I’m paralysed and wheeled away. I pass people who are not the crew, but clones of the crew. I grab one by the balls. No response. He has no balls, this clone.
Ed passes me a box. It has a powerful led strobe in it. I turn it on, and adjust the speed. It works. The clones hate it, it protects me while I escape. I ask the computer to fill the ship with strobe light at the same frequency. Voice commands are not available from my location. I ride a go kart through a small town, flashing people as I pass. Some are not clones, the strobe does not affect them. I shout to them to leave. A group of Indian women are getting off a bus. They are real. I ask them for help. We locate a control panel, and I initiate a ship wide strobe, starting in 8 minutes and repeating every 15.
I meet a guy who is not a clone, but happy in their company. A crowd is gathering. I secure myself in a house. The windows are breached by clones dressed as French knights riding huge snapping turtles. I keep them at bay with my strobe. I throw a banana to them. They like it. Then garlic. They like this less. They plan to kill me. Strobe light floods around us. I am saved by the white light.

One thought on “The Clones of Zero G. 

  1. And saved by Sophie Dahl, I hope. Her grandfather wrote books, you know. He couldn’t spell ‘Ronald’ properly though.


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