211th Entry

June 4^th, 2037

1453

Dear Earth Diary

“This will never work.”

You lack conviction.

“This will NEVER work.”

And yet?

“Just because you convinced that idiot from Fed Ex that you know what you’re talking about does not mean that NASA and whoever’s hired NASA are going to let you get away with this.”

They don’t need to let us get away with this; we ARE getting away with this. Like, right this second.

“No, it’s not going to –“

“Excuse me? Are you sure this is the right address?”

Yes of course. That’s where we need them to go.

“That’s in the suburbs isn’t it?”

Yes… we have a secret base there. In the suburbs.

“…Whatever, boss. I’m getting paid either way. Ok, sign here and I’ll we’ll start getting these out the door.”

…There you go.

“Ta. And look, thanks for asking your guards to help out. Normally it’s just me and my trolly.”

They normally expect you to move all this yourself?

“More demanded. But really, I appreciate it.”

It’s my pleasure. You may have just saved the world you know.

“…They’re just boxes, mate. Alright everyone! Let’s start moving them!”

You see? All in hand.

“Saving the world?”

Well I don’t know, do I? Maybe they were cloning you because they could, maybe they want to start a nuclear war. Maybe they decided one of you simply wasn’t enough. Point is, whatever they want them for, maybe, just maybe we’ve stopped them. Which is what we want to do, yes? Face it, I’ve solved it. No killing them, just get them out of here and allow them a chance to live. I’ve got the high ground here.

“Where’d you send them to?”

My house. Well, my ex-fiancé’s now I guess.

“…What?”

I figured they’d at least know her name. Look, it was the only address I knew off the top of my head. And it gets them out of here while we try and stop things permanently.

“You just sent 360 naked women to your house.”

There are many things I could say in response to that.

“Yes?”

But I’m not going to.

“You’re not worried about what’s going to happen to them?”

Mostly I’m worried it’s cash on delivery.

“So, let me get this straight. You’ve sent 360 clones of me, to your ex-fiancé.”

Yes.

“Why?”

I thought it might piss her off.

“Really.”

Ok, most of the high ground.

“Hmm.”

I promise you, my every intention is to put a stop to this and then go find them and buy them some clothes and help them get set up. But even if… even if we don’t make it out, I know they’ll be ok. They’ll be able to look after themselves.

“How do you know that?”

Because they’re you.

“…Thank you.”

Come on. Let’s go kick NASA in the teeth.

“You mean whoever’s controlling NASA?”

Oh I’m all for stopping them. But first: we find NASA, and kick them in the teeth.

Very hard.