Thursday, 17 July 2025

Three of a Kind by Peter Lingard, 'The Twins' cocktail

 

I was surprised one morning when my identical twin, John, followed me into the kitchen without me being aware of his presence.

‘Good morning, Jim,’ he said. 

We never use nicknames as we believe it’s a lazy, disrespectful way of addressing people. What’s more, I didn’t feel the simpatico usually felt in his company.  I turned to look at him but he quickly sat at the table and busied himself with putting cereal in his bowl and pouring orange juice into his cup of tea.  I looked at my parents and sister to see if they were paying attention.  Dad was concentrating on me. ‘What’s going on?’ I said.  ‘This isn’t John.’

‘John’s with the Australian Institute for Sport in Canberra.  This lad,’ he nodded at whomever it was that was crunching dry cereal, ‘is an AI look-alike.’

That information gave me pause.  ‘How come John is in Canberra and when did he go without me knowing and why do we have a robot taking his place.’

‘Well, as you know, John fancies himself as a marathoner, and as you are less than keen on the idea, he’s training at the government sports facility.  ‘This object,’ he nodded at the John-alike again, ‘is a back-up and a sort of cover.  It’s all very interesting really.  They used over a hundred synchronised cameras to create an avatar; a sort of digital puppet of John, then incorporated that into the latest model of a human-specific robot with ultra-high artificial intelligence.  Fascinating. John left last night, so the idea is that you and your bionic brother spend time together.’

‘Back-up plan?  Cover?  Fascinating!  What are you talking about?’

‘If John is adjudged good enough to represent Australia in the marathon at the next Olympics, he will do so.  If he’s not, Mr John-alike will compete in his place.  In the meantime, Mr John-alike will live here and become part of the family until the designated athletes depart for the games.  Provided he assimilates properly, no-one will notice anything different.’  He smiled as if his words had explained everything.

‘Where should I begin, Dad?  Nobody’s going to notice anything different when John-alike puts orange juice in his tea and eats his cereal dry?  And, as I’m pretty sure my twin brother won’t make the grade to be an international marathoner, Australia is going to send this machine to represent us and we’re part of this grand fraudulent plan!’

My father nodded and smiled, and I wondered if he’d been replaced by a machine as well. 

I left the kitchen, went to the lounge and turned on the TV to CNN.  The pundits were chatting about the US President’s latest gaff, and Manchester City had won their latest game.  All was normal – except in our house. 

On my return to the kitchen my father wore a smile that expected me to raise more questions.  My robotic twin had finished his breakfast and sat silent and unmoving.  ‘So John-alike and I are to do the things together that my real brother and I would do?’  My father nodded. 

Georgia had finished her breakfast and was clearing away her dishes.  ‘What do you reckon, Georgie?’

‘Leave me out of it,’ she said.  ‘I’m going to see if I can stay with Gran for a few weeks.’

‘No you’re not!’ said Mum.

‘Do you have anything to say about this?’ I asked Mum.

‘Just doing my bit for Australia,’ she said.

The obvious dawned on me. ‘You’re getting paid, aren’t you?’

‘Well, just a little to help us along.’

‘What about John’s girlfriend?  Is she in on it too?’

‘No, and don’t you say a word.’

‘You don’t think she’ll figure it out in about five seconds flat?’

‘The benefits might cause her not to care,’ said Georgia.

‘Georgia!’ shouted mother.  ‘Anyway, she used John’s departure as an excuse for them to break up.  She wants to go her own way.’

I puffed out my cheeks and exhaled.  I looked at John-alike.  ‘How much of this do you think you can carry off?’

‘I think I will be a natural.  And, in any case, will not you always be by my side to help and guide me.’

‘Don’t count on it!’

 

I went to shower and dress.  When I got back, John-alike was alone, washing the dishes. ‘Whoa,’ I said.  ‘Don’t do the dishes; you’re setting a disastrous precedent.’

‘No worries,’ John-alike,’ said.  ‘I don’t have a free brain, so doing the dishes and other such chores means nothing – I don’t have urgent alternatives.’

‘Maybe, but if Mum and Georgie get used to John and me doing the dishes, it’ll become our job for life.’

He stopped washing, wiped his hands and asked what we could do together. 

Some dishes still awaited cleaning, so I finished the job.  ‘If you start something, you have to finish it,’ I told him.

‘Oh, good to know.  I’ll add that to my behaviour bank.  When can we go out together?’

‘What do you mean, ‘go out’?’

‘Socialise with people of a similar age and social standing.  I do have a social standing, do I not?’

I laughed. ‘I suppose you do.  Have you ever been to a bar and drunk beer?’

‘No.  I came straight here from the factory.  I have heard about it.’

‘I assume alcohol will have no effect on a machine but how do you handle a lot of liquid?  How does your mechanical body process food and drink?’

‘I have a plastic container for liquids and a similar box for solids.  Garry, the chief engineer at the factory, called it my shit box.  I can eject the contents of both at will and purge them with water, but I might need you to give my shit box a good clean now and then.’

‘No fucking way!’

‘It’s not that bad.  The food I eat does not get digested or otherwise processed.  It just falls into my shit box and awaits ejection.  I will try to always eat dry food but I am informed sauces and the like can resist total removal.  I would appreciate it if you could scrub me out with a brush now and then.’

‘Gloria can do it.  She’s a techie with a mothering instinct.  She’ll love it.  What about if we meet some girls when we’re out?  Have you ever had sex?  You are a male robot, right?’

‘I am but I can change.  It is a simple matter of adding or removing parts.’

That made me laugh again.  ‘How about getting an erection?’

‘There is a pump that I can mentally activate.’

‘Wow.  They thought of the whole kit and caboodle, didn’t they!  You’re in a bit of a hurry to experience everything.  What’s the rush?’

‘I must be ready to mingle with other athletes.  Not a lot of time left.  The games start in a couple of months.’

‘Right.  So, I’ll have my human brother back by then?’ Did he hear the desperation in my voice? Another thought hit me, ‘Do you have any money?’

‘Yes, I have an account within me that will be refilled on a regular basis. I do not have cash but is not everything paid electronically?’

 

Before we went out John-alike extended his two index fingernails and shoved them in an electric socket behind the television. It only took about five seconds before he was ready to go. 

 

Friends were impressed by John’s capacity to down beer. When someone suggested he might have hollow legs the remark didn’t strike me as funny as it used to. Around ten, twin sisters Barbara and Carole arrived, assessed us and swooped in on us.

They had separate bedrooms, so I didn’t have to witness John-alike’s anticipated blunders.  When I left at two I called out to see if he wanted to depart with me. 

‘He’s staying,’ said Barbara emphatically.

‘I stared so I have to finish the job, just as you said in the kitchen’ said John-alike.

‘Too right!’ said Barbara. Then, in a softer voice, ‘What were you two doing in the kitchen?’ 

 

He called around five. ‘Can you come and get me?’

‘It’s five a. m. John. Can’t you walk home?’

‘According to my GPS it’s thirteen kilometres and that is a long way.’

‘Mate, you’ve got to keep off toll roads and motorways so it’ll probably be more than thirteen kays. Not to worry though, aren’t you a marathoner? See you in a while. I’ll have breakfast ready.’

 

After lunch I got a call from Carole, the twin I’d slept with. ‘Hi, James. Did you enjoy last night?’

‘Very much. You?’

‘Um, yes, but I was wondering, if you’re agreeable, if we could get together again tonight and change partners? That’d be fun, right?’

‘Let you down, did I?’

‘Not at all. You were pretty damn good but Barbara says John has amazing stamina and she says I should experience it because it’s a once in a lifetime thing. She thinks there’s probably something wrong with your brother, but that’s not our concern. Is there something wrong with him?’

‘Wrong? Nah. He’s just an incredible athlete. He runs the marathon on a regular basis.’

‘Wow. Impressive. So, we on then for a swap tonight?’

‘Yeah, I reckon my ego can take it just this once.’

 

 

‘You want to see those twins again tonight?’

‘All right. That was a new experience for me, but I did not find it exciting. When she told me to stop, I did, and then she said, ‘no, no, keep going’. It was very confusing,’

‘Yeah, well, you’d have to be human. By the way, we’re swapping partners tonight.’

‘Oh, that’s good. More valuable experience for me. Will I have to walk home again?’

‘Yeah. I think you probably will.’

 

Two weeks later, my brother injured himself in training and was sent home, his Olympic dreams in tatters. John-alike had obviously been programmed with a dose of empathy. 

‘When I win gold,’ he said to John, ‘which I will because I have been programmed to cross the finishing line one minute and thirty-two seconds ahead of whomever comes second, I’ll give you the medal.’ It was just as well because everyone in the world would believe it was my brother who had been victorious. He’d have to give speeches at pubs, clubs, schools, libraries et al and show off the golden gong.

 

John–alike was packed in a special crate and sent as airfreight to Canberra.

 

My brother and I went out for drinks in the evening and I asked if his injury was likely to hinder his sexual activities.  He laughed. ‘Not one bit,’ he said. 

‘Good,’ I said, ‘because there’s a couple of ladies who think they’ve already slept with you and who are anxious to do so again.’

About the author

Born a Brit, served in the Royal Marines, was an accountant, a barman and a farm worker. He once lived in the US where he owned a freight forwarding business. An Aussie now because the sun frequently shines and the natives communicate in English.

Did you enjoy the story? Would you like to shout us a coffee? Half of what you pay goes to the writers and half towards supporting the project (web site maintenance, preparing the next Best of book etc.)


1 comment: