#13. The Adventures of Ashlee and Laura #2: The People Faxer
Beyond the bezels of this screen, outside the boundaries of this world, past the celestial giants and dwarves, and further than our comprehension reaches, there lies a single immutable truth:
It would be pretty cool if we could teleport, bro.
Think about it. No more sitting in traffic with people who must know how to drive correctly but simply choose not to. No more enduring draconian airport security lines, awkwardly untangling yourself from belts, shoes, and dignity. No more fretting over whether your luggage has mysteriously decided to vacation in a different country. In a world where teleportation exists, convenience would reign supreme, and humanity could finally experience a life free of logistical nightmares.
After miraculously recovering from their space-deaths, these are the thoughts that must have been running through the minds of Ashlee and Laura as they eagerly ordered the newly announced Toshiba People Faxer 5000—the world's first teleportation device.
Think about it. No more sitting in traffic with people who must know how to drive correctly but simply choose not to. No more enduring draconian airport security lines, awkwardly untangling yourself from belts, shoes, and dignity. No more fretting over whether your luggage has mysteriously decided to vacation in a different country. In a world where teleportation exists, convenience would reign supreme, and humanity could finally experience a life free of logistical nightmares.
After miraculously recovering from their space-deaths, these are the thoughts that must have been running through the minds of Ashlee and Laura as they eagerly ordered the newly announced Toshiba People Faxer 5000—the world's first teleportation device.
* * * * *
As Laura entered the office, she noticed Ashlee was casually perusing the pages of Ich bin eine Liebesmaschine: A Cold War Romp, the latest installment of fan-favorite political romance series, The Double Life of Senator Nigel Goodlooking.
“What’s Nigel Goodlooking up to this time?” Laura asked, dropping her keys onto the desk.
Ashlee grinned. “Only his most daring mission yet—posing as a robot spy in East Berlin while falling in love with a scientist working on cybernetic enhancements. It’s tragic, Laura. And romantic. And so Cold War.”
Laura blinked. “A robot? During the Cold War? How does that even make sense?"
Ashlee shrugged. "Look, it’s not about making sense—it’s about the drama.”
“What’s Nigel Goodlooking up to this time?” Laura asked, dropping her keys onto the desk.
Ashlee grinned. “Only his most daring mission yet—posing as a robot spy in East Berlin while falling in love with a scientist working on cybernetic enhancements. It’s tragic, Laura. And romantic. And so Cold War.”
Laura blinked. “A robot? During the Cold War? How does that even make sense?"
Ashlee shrugged. "Look, it’s not about making sense—it’s about the drama.”
Laura’s eyes drifted to the large, unmarked box in the corner of the office. “What’s with the big box?” she asked, gesturing toward it.
Ashlee glanced at the box, her brow furrowing. “Oh! That must be the People Faxer doohickey we ordered.”
Laura’s eyes widened. “Is that the Toshiba People Faxer 5000? How did it get here so fast?”
Ashlee shrugged. “Maybe it teleported itself,” she quipped, tossing her book aside and hurrying over to the box.
The two tore it open with the enthusiasm of children on Christmas morning, revealing a dazzling array of parts and pieces. Giddy with excitement, they dug into the assembly instructions.
They spent the next twenty minutes piecing together the machine, connecting wiggly-waggly wires to shiny whatchamacallits, attaching sprockety-doos to globulous gizmo-gears, and snapping the twisty-turners into the flibber-flabberous frame. With every clunk, click, and ka-chunk, the contraption grew larger, more absurd, and far more Seussian.
“Pass me the zigzagulator,” Laura said, reaching out without looking.
“Here you go. Careful with the zapdoodler—it looks delicate,” Ashlee replied, handing over a vaguely threatening coil of tubing.
By the time they were done, the room looked like a scene out of a mad scientist’s fever dream, with the People Faxer 5000 standing proudly in the center.
Ashlee clapped her hands. “Alright, let’s give it a test run. How about a quick trip to Rome? Pizza, history, gladiators. What’s not to love?”
“Rome?” Laura raised an eyebrow. “For our first teleport? Shouldn’t we try, like, the break room first?”
Ashlee waved the suggestion away. “Where’s the adventure in that? Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”
Reluctantly, Laura stepped onto the platform with Ashlee. With a dramatic flourish, Ashlee pressed the glowing INITIATE button. The machine roared to life as a mechanical ring descended slowly, bathing them in a soft glowing light.
They heard the satisfying hum of the motor, followed by a loud ZAP. Both closed their eyes in anticipation, bracing themselves for the Eternal City. But when they opened them, they were still standing in their office.
Laura frowned. “Was that it? Did we just teleport back to the office?”
Ashlee stepped off the platform, scratching her head. “Maybe it's on a delay? Or maybe we've taken a round-trip. Let’s try again.”
Cautiously, Laura hit the INITIATE button once more. The mechanical ring descended, the light scanned them, and ZAP!—they closed their eyes, braced for the warm Mediterranean sun, and opened them to... their office. Again.
They heard the satisfying hum of the motor, followed by a loud ZAP. Both closed their eyes in anticipation, bracing themselves for the Eternal City. But when they opened them, they were still standing in their office.
Laura frowned. “Was that it? Did we just teleport back to the office?”
Ashlee stepped off the platform, scratching her head. “Maybe it's on a delay? Or maybe we've taken a round-trip. Let’s try again.”
Cautiously, Laura hit the INITIATE button once more. The mechanical ring descended, the light scanned them, and ZAP!—they closed their eyes, braced for the warm Mediterranean sun, and opened them to... their office. Again.
Laura crossed her arms, glaring at the control panel. “This is ridiculous. What are we doing wrong?”
Ashlee leaned in, squinting at the settings. “Wait. The dial’s on Fax. What does that even mean anyways, how do you fax a person?”
“How should I know?” Laura sighed, setting the dial to Teleport. “If this doesn’t work, we’ll actually have to do our jobs, and I refuse to let that happen.”
Across the globe, in the middle of the Roman Coliseum, three identical pairs of Ashlees and Lauras materialized, much to the bewilderment of nearby tourists.
All six froze, staring at one another in growing horror.
All three Lauras gasped in eerie unison. “Oh no. The No-Cloning Theorem.”
“What’s that?” one Ashlee asked.
“I learned about it in my quantum mechanics class in college!” the first Laura explained, already taking off her earrings. “There can’t be multiple copies of us at the same time. We’ll destabilize the timeline.”
The second Laura nodded grimly. “Which means only one pair of us can survive.”
“What does that mean?” another Ashlee asked.
“It means,” the third Laura said, cracking her knuckles, “we fight.”
What followed was a gladiatorial battle of epic proportions involving I ❤️ Rome magnets, gelato cones, and the occasional rogue fanny pack. Tourists screamed, pigeons scattered, and somewhere in the chaos, one Ashlee managed to weaponize a souvenir snow globe.
“How should I know?” Laura sighed, setting the dial to Teleport. “If this doesn’t work, we’ll actually have to do our jobs, and I refuse to let that happen.”
With the dial finally set correctly, they initiated the sequence again. The ring descended, scanning them with its eerie glow. This time, however, the platform beneath their feet began to heat up—first uncomfortably warm, then blisteringly hot.
“Is this normal?!” Ashlee shouted.
“I don’t think so!” Laura yelled back.
Before they could hit the abort button, a bright beam of light shot down from the ring above. The heat peaked, and with a deafening ZORCH, both Ashlee and Laura were vaporized into thin air. Vaporized, not vanished. As in just two little piles of people dust on the floor.
The Sort-Of Scientific Explanation
If teleportation sounds too good to be true, that’s because it is. A real teleportation machine doesn’t transport you—it would merely compile a list of all your atoms and their exact placements so that it could assemble an exact copy of you somewhere else. The original you? Well, it gets… disposed of.
This is why a proper teleportation machine would never have a Fax option. The process only works if the original version is obliterated, leaving no room for duplicates. But let’s entertain the idea for a moment: what if the Fax option existed and the original copy wasn’t destroyed?
That’s precisely what happened the first two times Ashlee and Laura activated the device. Instead of teleporting to Rome, Laura and Ashlee’s molecules were scanned, copied, and transmitted, while the originals remained in the office. The machine’s failure to clean up after itself resulted in two identical pairs of Ashlees and Lauras materializing in the middle of the Roman Coliseum, followed by a third pair shortly after.
This is their story.
* * * * *
The Sort-Of Scientific Explanation
If teleportation sounds too good to be true, that’s because it is. A real teleportation machine doesn’t transport you—it would merely compile a list of all your atoms and their exact placements so that it could assemble an exact copy of you somewhere else. The original you? Well, it gets… disposed of.
This is why a proper teleportation machine would never have a Fax option. The process only works if the original version is obliterated, leaving no room for duplicates. But let’s entertain the idea for a moment: what if the Fax option existed and the original copy wasn’t destroyed?
That’s precisely what happened the first two times Ashlee and Laura activated the device. Instead of teleporting to Rome, Laura and Ashlee’s molecules were scanned, copied, and transmitted, while the originals remained in the office. The machine’s failure to clean up after itself resulted in two identical pairs of Ashlees and Lauras materializing in the middle of the Roman Coliseum, followed by a third pair shortly after.
This is their story.
* * * * *
All six froze, staring at one another in growing horror.
All three Lauras gasped in eerie unison. “Oh no. The No-Cloning Theorem.”
“What’s that?” one Ashlee asked.
“I learned about it in my quantum mechanics class in college!” the first Laura explained, already taking off her earrings. “There can’t be multiple copies of us at the same time. We’ll destabilize the timeline.”
The second Laura nodded grimly. “Which means only one pair of us can survive.”
“What does that mean?” another Ashlee asked.
“It means,” the third Laura said, cracking her knuckles, “we fight.”
What followed was a gladiatorial battle of epic proportions involving I ❤️ Rome magnets, gelato cones, and the occasional rogue fanny pack. Tourists screamed, pigeons scattered, and somewhere in the chaos, one Ashlee managed to weaponize a souvenir snow globe.
When the dust settled, one Laura and one Ashlee stood victorious, battered and panting.
“So… are you my Laura, or are you the other Laura.... or the other Laura?” Ashlee asked.
“Does it matter?” Laura replied, brushing dust and bits of broken cobblestone off her shoulder.
They looked around at the chaos in the Coliseum and then at each other.
“We’re flying back,” Laura said.
“Definitely flying,” Ashlee agreed.
The pair limped off toward the horizon, the Coliseum glowing faintly in the Roman sunset behind them. After a moment of silence, Ashlee glanced at Laura and smirked. “Think we can swing by the Vatican on the way back? I’ve got a few questions for the Pope.”
Laura groaned but couldn’t suppress a small laugh as they disappeared into the bustling streets of Rome.