DOUBLE

"No. In this instance, 'hermetic' bears a double meaning: both 'utterly sealed' and 'in the tradition of occult science'."

Your former double stares blankly at you, as if you never spoke at all.

"That is quite the something, yes." Your former double looks at you evenly.

You turn from your double's body.

"My own double was incapacitated by our enemies. I couldn't stand to keep looking at him like that."

A broad-set man surveys his cards through double-lensed spectacles, whispering to himself as he draws. Agents of the Weeping Eye sit heads bowed around him, waiting for the word of god.

Twenty stories below the surface of Novessa, the double-time click-clack of practical heels down a long hallway. On the desk of a high ranking Opera official, an amber light blinks.

... like your unfortunate double, for instance.

The words of your old double HOLOCENE come to mind. In the so-called Developed World, the whole political and cultural economy of a place is revealed through its sporting rivalries.

Remove it right now. You cannot lose your only hope of reviving your double.

Let's not forget the obvious double entendre here.

(Nod to the body double.) "Why'd you wang him?"

(Nod to the body double.) "Why'd you kill him?"

"Keep a respectful distance. Double check your camera settings."

"I have questions about my double."

The Boatman eyes you silently as you leave him alone with your double.

Your pantless double stands before you, weight shifted onto his back leg. The posture is defiant, unconscious -- and terribly familiar.

Where your double was just standing, there's nothing, not even a whiff of performance-weave cotton.

Help your double accept himself for who he is.

"My choices... not choices at all..." Your double takes in the bazaar and, slowly, his face settles.

Your double seems to have retained the outline of the assignment despite his recent coma.

Your double turns to take in the scene at the docks, though the look in his eyes suggests he's on an entirely different plane of understanding.

Your double scratches his bare thigh as he regards you with a mix of concern and suspicion.

A strange little twitch runs through his features. And then, slowly, a wide smile appears on your double's face.

"Yes. I think my double died of horny."

Following the cord from your double's headphones you come to a mid-sized home stereo resting on a sideboard.

Pinch the double-page between your fingers and pull.

"No, it's good, actually. To know someone is always over your shoulder, double checking every word. Liberating, in a way."

"We accept submissions by mail or in-person. Verse poetry only, and standard formatting rules apply. Twelve-point font, double spaced."

"Did we double-book?"

Your old double has been known to have an unsettling effect on certain people.

Your double. Together you assembled the crew from the ground up, but he never crossed professional boundaries the way you did.

"A shameful double-lie. One that you perpetuate first on yourself, and then on everyone around you."

"Our partisan offensive is reaching its crescendo. With our metaphysical superweapon, like your double, we'll soon achieve breakout."

"You refer to your sadly mute double, restored to action with Luzian demoncraft." He shakes his head. "And we're meant to believe the Opera and the Weeping Eye are on opposite sides."

"You refer to your maladjusted double, restored to action with Luzian demoncraft." He shakes his head. "And we're meant to believe the Opera and the Weeping Eye are on opposite sides."

"You refer to your sad, confused double, restored to action with Luzian demoncraft." He shakes his head. "And we're meant to believe the Opera and the Weeping Eye are on opposite sides."

"Take your would-be double, currently laying in bed on the ground floor of a photo shop, enjoying pure existence unencumbered by fake bullshit."

"He's free and at large. It was his body-double at the shrine."

"Singular motives. Never understood them, personally." He shakes his head, a touch mournfully. "Your double was similarly suspicious."

"Hold on, what do you know about my double?"

"Agora Minor, some years before the Reunión. Reyes was an under-minister, attending a trade fair on behalf of Luz. Double and myself are in-theatre, passing as techno-curious buyers."

"Mm. Verdict's still out. You made it further than your double, that's a start anyway."

"I'm pretty sure this took out my double."

"This was in the stereo when my double was zeroed out." (Show him the mysterious red disc.)

"Double and I split up in pursuit, but our target seems to vanish in the hazy alleys. I'm about to despair when all of a sudden I hear the most otherworldly sound wafting up from the street itself."

"Who was your double?"

"Very good. Double and myself are in Agora Minor, some years before the Reunión. Reyes then is just an under-minister. Hasn't yet earned his epithet, but even then is known to be a secretive fuck."

"My double. With whom you had a chat."

"What else do you know about my double, PSEUDOPOD?"