Snake Plissken

6. Everyone has a double somewhere in the world. What personality traits does yours have?


Snake stood on the corner eying the metal behemoth trying to smoke a cigarette. For a moment it would seem amusing then the heebee jeebies would set in. There was something comforting and unnerving about being in the presence of quite literally himself. This one had come out of the factory not like the others. No bash to the head was required to short it out. No. This time it had been pretending. Snake was certain of it. The program, the learning copy of his personality they programed to suppress had escaped the confines. Should they be surprised? No, proabably not.

There was a point of pride he felt knowing this simulacrum. It was watching himself devise an escape plan from the outside. Even as a computer he'd learned to outwit the government.

"You think about them?" The metal taint to his own voice startled him. It was so close to his and yet not.

"No." Snake shook his head. "Me."

"I am you." It commented.

"No." Snake leaned back against the wall. "You are you. I'm Snake Plissken."

The machine cocked it's big head or tried. The way its body had been constructed meant the whole body cocked to the side somewhat like a confused child. "Who am I?"

Snake thought over that question carefully. What answer would satisfy himself if the tables were turned. He leaned back letting smoke trail out into the cold air. "My twin."


"I have your mind." It commented still tilting at that odd angle which looked like it might topple over.

"Were." Snake looked at the slit that represented the eye of the metal man. "You stopped being my copy when you started thinking for yourself."

It was true. Snake believed that experience shaped a person more than most things in this world. They had stopped being the same hours, days ago, maybe weeks.

"How? I do not understand." The robot finally uncocked and stood a bit more stiffly. It was serious and pointed.

"What'd you do this morning?" Snake asked curiously.

"I left base at 7 am to.."

Plissken cut in on the robot Plissken. "What was I doing at 7 am?"

"I...." A metallic whine emitted from the metal man. "I don't know."

"How can you be me if you don't know what I did this morning?" It was the kind of logic Plissken would understand. It was almost like talking to a perpetually drunk version of himself where things seemed muddled and slow to comprehend.

"I can't."

"Then you aren't me." Plissken added pushing off the wall.

"Who am I? I was Snake Plissken." It seemed confused and started following Snake.

"You're you." Plissken shrugged tossing down the cigarette. His metal counterpart did the same. "Give yourself a name."

The thump of metal feet stopped behind him. "Anything?"

"Anything but Snake Plissken." Snake kept walking as he spoke. Slowly the foot beats started again.

"Viper." It commented with a metallic ring.

"Viper it is." Snake smiled and kept walking. "Got any plans tonight Viper?"

Snake kept repeating the name. While it was his personality, it was a computer. It didn't have his photographic memory. It learned like a computer not a man.

"Not a damned thing." It would have smiled with that sentence in that tone or at least Plissken knew he would.

"Sounds good to me." Snake replied walking up to his bike.

"What are you doing Snake?" It stopped to ask him.

"Going home to relax." Snake shrugged. It was the plan. He could use the rest.

The robot stood there humming. It was the processor fan kicking in. The computer was learning fast, running hot. "Where is my home?"

Snake looked up from his bike in shock. How the hell was he going to answer that. Where does a 10 foot tall robot call home? Snake milled it over and came up blank. He was still waiting for his answer. Plissken shrugged hopelessly. "You don't have one yet."

"Where do I acquire one?" He could hear the change in wording. When confused or uncertain it fell back on protocol where his personality was suppressed.

"Takes time." Plissken sighed. "Could stay in my shop until you find one."

"Would that be home?" It was curious as a child. It was learning and that was what his learning was, curiosity.

"No." Snake smiled. "Be temporary place until you get your own."

It offered its hand. "I accept."

Snake laughed and shook the enormous metal hand. "Deal. Now let's go so I can get home."

Plissken started up the bike driving the few blocks toward the shop. At 25 miles per hour the robot could keep up in long running, thudding strides. 40 seemed to be its maximum. Sure he was experimenting but that was vital. Plissken stopped and got off opening the bay door. "This be alright tonight?"

"Yeah." The ATAC stepped in glancing around. "Fine."

"See you in the morning." Plissken began pulling down the door.

"Good night Snake."

Plissken laughed as he locked up the door. This had to be the worst idea he ever had or the best. Only time would tell now. Tomorrow, after rest.


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2. I guess the moral here is: you must be careful what you pretend to be because in the end you are who you're pretending to be. - Mother Night

Takes place five days before this: Carbon Copy Plissken



“How is he?” Dr, Fry asked as he prepared the room.

“Heavily sedated.” Elizabeth Tanzer responded as she closed the door.

“That’s good.”

“We had to strap him down and the other doctors suggest further restraints on the table.” She seemed nervous as she stood in the room stuffed full of equipment.

“Why?” Finally Dr. Fry stopped his task to face his assistant.

“We... we think he was having violent nightmares. He showed all the signs of a post traumatic event in terms of blood pressure, pulse and brain activity but he was asleep.” Elizabeth was concerned for the patient as much as she knew Fry was. The others here treated him like an animal or less. She had only been around him twice while he was awake. Plissken to her seemed no different than most men when introduced though he was a little standoffish and rude. He had been imprisoned by them and she could see how anyone might react the same way.

“Good.” Fry’s words were flat when he met the questioning gaze. “Most brain’s when sedated slow the transfer of thought patterns. If his is active the procedure will take less time than anticipated. He may only require a week of sedation instead of the month we started with. It will lessen the amount of trauma he experiences waking up.”

“He won’t wake up.” Tanzer couldn’t keep the emotion down.

( Medical Uncertainty )

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