Wrong Side Of The Mirror

It was dinner time, which meant that Julia would be knocking on the door at any moment. Don was sipped his tea as he looked out the large window down to the parking lot below. The cars were all definitely internal combustion. A few he could hear as they started up. Not an electric in sight, no models he could make out. And the those larger ones... SUV's... so abundant. There were trucks in abundance as well, something he hadn't really seen before. 

From his location on the south side of the fourth floor of this building, he could see the flag. Just fifty stars. 

He counted.

At least he was no longer being treated like a criminal, though the room was locked. There was also two cameras. He wondered if there were any cameras in the bathroom. He had looked, but couldn't see any. The windows were thick, probably tempered. 

But there was a bed, a night stand, a desk and chair, even a dresser. 

There was a television, but no way to turn it on. 

There was also a clock. 

The clock helped him determine where he was. At noon, he marked the shadow on the floor. It was too far over towards the west - they were on daylight saving time. 

And this was definitely the same latitude as north Florida. 

A north Florida. Not his north Florida. 

As expected, Julia knocked on the door. 

"Come in," he said. 

The little blond came in. She was pleasant enough, but he always noticed her sidearm. 

"Any idea what you want for dinner?" she asked.

"Why do they have you as my personal valet?" he asked.

She laughed, "I'm your guard as well. What do you want?"

He chuckled. "Okay, tuna sandwich. You have those here? Mayo? Onions? Lettuce? Rye bread?"

"I know a place. Anything to drink?"

"I'd say a beer buuuut..."

"No can do, Don."

"Jamaican style ginger beer? You have that here?"

Julia laughed, "same place. Okay. By the way, there's a gentleman on his way up who wants to have a few words with you."

"Another interrogation?"

"No, we're done with that. Just a talk."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"Trust me. It's good."

He nodded, and walked back to the window with his tea.

She closed the door. 

Don could hear it lock. 

A few minutes later, another knock at the door, but this time it opened up before he could answer. Julia was holding it open when Spann and another man entered. This man was younger than Spann, probably just a few years older than, with short cropped blonde hair. 

"Don, I believe," he said extending a hand "Special Agent Frank Merriwether."

Don shook his hand, looking him in the eye, trying to see if there was anything. At least it was a firm handshake. That was strangely comforting. 

"Why don't you sit down," he said. 

"No, that's okay."

"Fine. Look, let me get to the point," Frank said, as he looked over to Spann. Both men had concerned looks. Frank continued, "you don't belong here."

"How long did it take you to figure that out?" Don asked.

"When we got our first look at your... ship."

"Spaceplane."

"Spaceplane", Frank replied, "we have nothing like that. We haven't since 2011. It was the flag on the side of your ship that caught our attention. Fifty five states?"

"You have fifty," Don added. 

"Yeah." Spann said.

"Don, bottom line is, we don't know how you got here, and we were hoping you could shed some light on that," Frank said, as he sat in the desk chair.

"Well, Mr. Merriwether, I wish I could help you. I have no idea either. I was heading home, and ended up here."

Spann started "we kind of suspected as much. Your... spaceplane... isn't anymore advanced than we are here."

"I'm guessing that you have crews working on it?" Don asked, sharply.

"You've got to understand, Don, here... things are a little... tense," Spann replied.

"No kidding. My escort in were jet fighters, a type we no longer have. Are you at war?" Don asked.

"In a sense, yes," Frank said, "you still have conflict where you're from?"

"Guys, we haven't had a war since 1983. I could go into the whole thing... but that would take a long time... and my dinner is going to be here shortly."

Frank laughed, "well, you're sort of stuck here."

"Yeah," Don said bluntly, "no kidding."

Spann looked at Don. "Don, who is your president?"

"We don't have a president. We have a prime minister. Gladys Sexton. We haven't had presidents since 1988."

"Unbelievable," Spann added. 

"That last war was devastating," Don went on, "when it ended, we swore no more. Things had to change."

"You folks communist?" Frank asked.

Don laughed out loud. 

"Communist?!? No. Parliamentary democracy. Rank choice voting."

Spann nodded, "Like Canada?"

"Like Canada. Part of the Western Hemisphere Alliance. Look, politics isn't my thing..."

"Okay, we got it. Anyway, we're really not sure what to do here," Frank went on.

"Really?"

"Seriously," Frank said as he pulled up his phone. He unlocked it, and looked at the screen, "have you ever heard of "the Many-Worlds Theory?"

"The Many-Worlds Interpretation? Yeah."

"Well," Frank said, "that's the only thing that can explain this. Crazy as it sounds. But I was at the airport and looked at your spaceplane. It's familiar and different at the same time. We can't get into the computers. We'd like to. They work on the same principles, that's apparent, but they use totally different operating systems. Solid state drives. Same sort of processors..."

"Guys, those computers won't help," Don said, "simply guidance and control. They won't teach you anything you probably don't already know. And they won't help me get home. I'll give you the passwords, though, seriously. You're just going to be really disappointed."

Spann nodded, "that's a start."

"Yeah," Don said, "not like I'm going anywhere."