Emma asked Nils for a favor. “You know the paintings you’ve done of me? I’ve been thinking I might like to portal into a painting of me.”

Nils nodded. “But I’m not sure I understand,” he said. “You’re already in those paintings.”

Emma nodded. “Yeah, but I just want to see if ... I’m not sure I can explain it.”

“You want to be twins?” Nils said.

“I guess that’s part of it,” Emma admitted. “But also I want to see if in the painting we’re two different people, or if we’re essentially the same person, able to know each other’s thoughts, able to know everything about each other.”

“I guess I understand that,” Nils said. “But where do I come in?”

“That’s the thing,” Emma explained. “I need a new painting. One of me right now, or as close to right now as possible. So there’s a better chance it’s the same me.”

“That same you,” Nils repeated. “Okay, a picture of you. Any particular pose? Scene? Style?”

“I’m thinking maybe in an amorphous space,” Emma said. “So there’s no distraction. So it’s just us.”

Nils painted the portrait of Emma, and before the paint was completely dry, Emma portalled. At first nothing much seemed to be going on. The two Emmas stared at each other. Then one reached out. The other reached out. Their hands met.

Maybe there was some kind of flash. In any event, Nils blinked, and when his eyes refocused, the canvas was blank. “Oh no!” he thought, not sure what had happened. “What have I...?”