I stare at the painting in front of me. It's Friday. Exactly one week since Bradley promised to take me to Arth. He fiddles with the back of the painting now. A part of me is waiting for him to admit he's forgotten how to turn to the jolly thing on.

               "Almost got it," he mutters. He doesn't look at me but I still nod encouragingly at him anyway. No point angering your one ally in the universe if we do manage to make it to Arth. "There. Got it."

               He flips the large canvas back over and hangs it on the wall. I take another good look at it. Nothing. It looks the exact same as it always has. "Um, how exactly do we, you know, get to the other side?" I say awkwardly.

               Bradley fashions his pearly white teeth into a broad grin, "you touch it."

               "Okay. When we're there, how do we get back?"

               "Arth has a painting too. One just like this one but it's a picture of earth. It's in another company founded by Billy. It's called Billies Dust Suckers. They sell vacuum cleaners. When Billy first went to Arth, vacuum cleaners were an invention their world had never seen before. He made a good fortune in both worlds."

                "Oh. Sounds nice. So that's where we'll come out after touching this, then? What happens if another customer that comes in here and touches this painting despite that no touching sign over there?" I nod towards the bright orange tape with the words firmly printed on in bold. "Wouldn't they come through too?"

               "No. Only one portal needs to be open to go through. When you enter the code to open it on the back as I've just done, you set how long you want to have it open for. I set it for five minutes so you'd better hurry up and touch it soon. If in the unlikely scenario someone goes running up to place their grimy hands on the painting before the five minutes are up, then Watson, Clay Watson, will stop them."

               I slowly turn around until I'm staring straight at him. "Clay knows?! Why in the world would you tell that old—"

               "Mister Phillip," my boss's voice is stern. Note to self: no Clay-ranting in front of Bradley. "Now that we've got that sorted, could you go through now?"

               "What? Oh, right. Yeah." And then I touch it.

               Falling. I'm free falling into the unknown. I can't see anything, but that might just be because there's no much wind my eyes are sealed shut. Maybe I should ask Bradley on our way back if I could bring a pair of goggles? I'm falling so fast that I'm worried about injuries when I finally touch down again. Why didn't I ask Bradley about the safety of this thing? Surely it's not good for my mental state if not me physically? Too much stress and adrenaline, or something? At least those chocolate bars will of well and truly taken off my weight next time I hop on the scales.

               It feels like hours but it can't be more than seconds when my summer-saluting stomach comes to a stop. When my feet touch the ground again, I stumble and crash into a nearby table. An ugly table. An ugly table that most definitely wasn't there before.

               "You'll get used to it. Re-entry balance will improve soon." I look up from where I'm hunched over the repulsive table. Bradley stands next to an oil painting of the park outside Billies Seasonal Weather Anomalies. In the corner of the painting you can just see the distinctive bright yellow building.

               I feel like I should probably respond. Keep my pride from dropping any lower than it already has and give him a funny statement proving that I believed him about this whole ordeal in the first place. Unfortunately, my facial expressions haven't quite gotten the memo that my brain just posted. Typical.

               We're on the ground floor. That much is pretty easy to tell. Through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows I can see Spring flowers mounting the trees and shrubs with snow packed around them. It's pretty, however, I can proudly say Earth's version of this scene looks better. I guess if Billies Anomalies here is a vacuum cleaner store, the folks who run the pofflers mustn't be as good as us. I bet they've all got cleaner dust-free living rooms than us earthlings.

               "So, uh, where were we meeting Billy again?" I ask a minute later.

~~~~

We walk into town square in silence. I must look like an idiot staring at everything with an open mouth. I can't help it. Everything here just looks so different. Buildings have been made in different sizes with a coat of paint much different to the one at home. It's really weird especially considering I've lived here – or at least earth's version – for all my life. So seeing places full of so many memories all back to front and wobbled around, is, well, it's really weird. Bradley doesn't say anything but I can tell he's enjoying the show I'm putting on.

               We're meeting Billy at a cafe. Someplace outdoors and in a quieter spot of the city. I didn't question further, happy for once just to simply sightsee.

               "And there he is." Bradley nods at one of the rounded tables under the shade of an airbrella. It's like the normal brolly just it hasn't got the big stick, it hovers in the air where it's been programmed to go and you can change it's shape and dimensions at any moment. We've got a couple of these back on Earth. Judging by the sight of the place, we obviously haven't got as many as Arth.

               I squint to try to get a better view of the Billy. Before I left home this morning, I admit I considered popping a pen and paper in my pocket if the right moment came so I could ask him for a good old fashioned autograph. In the end I reasoned he would probably take me a bit more seriously if I skipped the signings.

               Billy's a plump man much to my shock. I guess I assumed he'd be too busy to put on the extra pounds. He's wearing a faded baseball cap and plain grey T-shirt. A bowl of hot chips and a big glass sits in front of him. It's three quarters full  of some dark purple concoction. It looks gross.

               "Ah, Bradley. Good to see you again." Bill gets up to give my boss a bro-hug. The type where you each grab the others hand and slap them one the back with the other. I examine the cafe wall in the distance awkwardly.

               "My, my, it's been too long." Bradley grins at Bill. Well, I never. Grins! My boss is grinning! "Bill, I'd like to introduce you to Phillip. The man I was talking to you about before. And Phillip, meet Bill. Founder of two amazing companies in two equally amazing worlds."

               I give Billy my politest smile and shake his hand formally. "It's an honour, sir," I say.

               "An honour for both of us, I'd say." Billy smiles at me warmly, "please, sit, sit. We have much to discuss. I spoke to one of my connections yesterday, he's got a couple of heavy-duty friminks in storage at his laboratory. You explained this all to Phillip, yes?" Bill nods in my direction. "How we plan to move the suns with friminks? Handy pieces of technology able to freeze something and teleport it into it's database?"

               "Yeah, I explained it all to him." Bradley leans over and plucks a chip from the bowl before casually popping it in his mouth. It doesn't escape my notice that, technically speaking, stealing a planets sun is a form of burglary. And here we are talking about it like we're planning our picnic snacks in the park.

               "Are you sure that stealing this sun won't have any negative effects? Like, sure sure?"

               Billy smiles reassuringly at me, "listen, I like money. I like it a lot. And that's one of the reasons we're doing this. I'm not afraid to admit that much. But I'm not a murderer. Another reason we're doing this. We need pofflers up in our sky or people will die. The world is a dangerous place when we're not in control. Trust me when I say I've hired all the right brains to tell me whether or not it is safe." He grabs a chip from the bowl and offers it to me, "here kiddo, you're looking worried. Take the chip."                            

               I chew thoughtfully on the salty snack. Bradley and Bill start talking about something. It sounds technical. I don't bother wasting my brain cells trying to decipher what exactly they're going on about. I finish off another chip before speaking again, "so who exactly did you hire? Which brain?"

               "Mine."

               Once again, I find myself choking. This time, it just so happens to be on a chip. "You?!" I splutter at him. "You're the researcher you hired on the safety of this whole mastermind plan? Listen man, I hate to sound so horribly rude and all, but wouldn't it be a little wiser to, you know, talk to a professional."

               "Yes," Bill says it slowly. Unsurely. "But not in the way you're thinking. Science-fiction taught us a lot of lies in the department of parallel worlds. One thing they actually managed to get correct, was people. For every person in one world, there is an identical in the other. Of course there are always people that don't get to be in both worlds. Parents marrying a different person, unexpected deaths. That sort of thing. Generally, however, there will be two of the same person around. My identical in this world, is a scientist. A brilliant one, if I do say so myself."

               I give him a long look, "you serious?" I wait for his nod before whisking the bowl of chips off the table and onto my lap while slouching back in my chair to think things through while dazing off to the sky. Well how about that. Learn something new everyday.

               Bill and Bradley go back to their conversation. I absently watch a pair of shiny robots sweeping up a small pile of litter. My brain only switches off from think-a-ville when I run out of chips. For a second I'm torn between going back to ask for more and listening to my doctors advice on dieting. Eventually I decide that it's only polite to get Bill some more chips which I could potentially taste test.

               "Well, would you look at that," I exclaim while loudly pushing back my chair to stand up. "We're all outta snacks. I'm gonna grab us some more. Won't be a minute."

               I snatch up the empty bowl, turn on my heel and march off to the cafe. It looks like the sort of place that smells really good. Fresh chocolate cake with a pinch of good old fashioned coffee. Unfortunately, I don't actually get to take my whiff of it. Why? Because a moving monolith has just shoved me down a deserted street.