Chapter 5
The lights on the control floor were dimmed, and still Ian remained at their computer, awkwardly pretending to be baffled by the malfunction of their own design. Sam emerged from the Imaging Chamber, pocketing the handlink he’d described as a hockey puck. Ian kind of liked that.
“Ben all tucked in?” they asked, grinning.
Sam nodded. “I read him a bedtime story and everything.”
“Ha! I’d always hoped you had a sense of humour,” Ian said, beckoning Sam to their terminal. He eagerly crossed the room, admiring the huge monitors with data filling the screen.
“Of course I have a sense of humour,” Sam said, defensive. “Just what did Al tell you people about me, anyway?”
Ian smiled. “He said you were brave, and kind-hearted, and you always saw the best in people. Except when they were being cussholes to you and you kicked their butts.”
Sam squinted. “Cussholes?”
“Okay, he didn’t say ‘cuss.’”
Sam snorted. “But he told you I didn’t have a sense of humour?”
“Well, he said you never laughed at his dirty jokes.”
“He only made those jokes to get on my nerves,” Sam said, reminiscing. “But I got him back sometimes. One time, there were these identical twins…”
“Oh mah stars, I’m about to come down with the vapours,” Ian said in a mock southern accent, fanning themself with their hand. “Seriously though, we need to get this done. Sexcapades can wait, much as I am looking forward to the spilled tea.”
Sam nodded in agreement, his face turning serious as Ian typed at the computer and connected the modified handlink to a data cable.
“So, I’m just bringing up the quantum data modules. I’m going to need to get a DNA sample that I can put in the Accelerator—”
“— Which will allow you to analyse the temporal energy data readings from an active leaper and let you fill in the unknowns in your equations,” Sam finished, eyes darting over the screen. “Right?”
Ian stared at him, awestruck. “Exactly. Wow, you really are quick on the uptake. I love you.” Ian’s cheeks flushed. “I mean, I love your mind.”
Sam’s eyes danced. “Thanks, I think. Yours is pretty… lovable, too. I’m so impressed with this, Ian. You should be so proud of yourself.”
Ian shrugged modestly. “Well, it wasn’t just me. Janis and Donna had the real physics insights. I just developed it into software.”
“You all did great,” Sam said, patting Ian on the back. “So do you need a sample of my saliva, or…?”
“Tissue sample, I think,” Ian said, cleaning their glasses.
Sam nodded, his gaze lingering on the screen. Ian noticed his smile fading.
“What’s wrong?”
“I see all Ziggy’s probability matrices here on the screen,” he said, “but I kinda thought I’d be able to, you know, say ‘hello.’ Where’s her—I mean its—sentience centre these days?”
“Sentience?” Ian tilted their head. “What do you mean, sentience?”
Sam looked at Ian like they had two heads. “Is… isn’t this Ziggy created out of the original?”
“Sure,” Ian said. “We built it using your original plans and loaded it with the stored memory banks from your Project. It’s a bit of a Ship of Theseus scenario, but the essence is there.”
Sam frowned. “How original were these plans?”
Considering this a perfect time for obtaining his autograph, Ian pulled out the schematics from their drawer, showing them to Sam. He looked them over, brow furrowed.
“Sure, this is Ziggy’s original base, but… what about the ego?” He looked over at Ziggy’s physical servers curiously. “Where’s the… you know—the orb?”
“What orb?” Ian had no idea what he was saying.
“Oh boy,” Sam breathed, hand on forehead. “No wonder she hasn’t been talkin’ to you guys.”
“Your Ziggy talked?!” Ian’s jaw felt like it was about to hit the floor. “Are you freaking kidding me? I had no idea twentieth century computers had the processing power to do a ChatGPT.”
“A what?”
“Never mind. How do we build this… orb?”
Sam shook his head. “We don’t really have time for me to go into that, Ian. But, later you could go on a field trip to Stallions Gate and check out whatever’s left of the original Project. I have no idea what survived out there, though.” He held up a finger. “Now, are you gonna do your biopsy or not? I hope your collection tools are sterile. Do you know how to do it?”
Ian feigned offence as they reached into another desk drawer and pulled out a small medical kit. “Sir, I am a doctor.”
“Of medicine?”
Ian shrugged. “Well… no. Not exactly. But you are, right?”
Sam smirked, and snatched the kit away from Ian. “Fine, I’ll collect my own sample.” He opened the kit and began rummaging through it, pulling out plastic-wrapped needles and other objects, turning them in his hands. “Ian, what do you know about Addison’s mother?”
Ian was taken off guard by the apparently out-of-the-blue question. “What…?”
Sam kept his eyes down on his prep work, pulling on latex gloves and inspecting the biopsy punch. “Her Mom. Has she ever talked about her?”
Ian frowned. “No, she keeps that kind of thing way close to her chest. Why?”
Sam began to swab his arm with alcohol. “It’s just, I was looking in her phone and saw that her Mom sent her a message a while ago. Said she ‘heard about Ben’ and wanted to talk. Addison never responded.”
Ian let out a low whistle. “I had no idea…”
Sam stuck a needle just under the surface of his skin, injecting something into it. “When she said she ‘heard about’ Ben, what does that mean, exactly? Did Ben get reported as missing? Or does she…”
“Well, we’ve kept Ben’s unauthorised leap under our hats, even with the government,” Ian explained. “But it’s true that for the rest of the world, he dropped off the map—and the wedding was cancelled, of course. So her Mom must have heard about that part.”
“I see…” Sam plunged the biopsy tool into the prepped site on his arm, twisting it a few times. Then, with tweezers, he pulled on the circular tissue sample. “Hey, would you take this scalpel and just cut this off for me?”
His tone was so casual, even though he was holding a bloody piece of his own flesh with tweezers. Presumably, the injection had been a local anaesthetic, because he was showing no signs of pain.
With a squeamish grimace, Ian picked up the scalpel and gave it a slice. They then dropped the knife and shivered.
“Ugh, no wonder I didn’t go into medicine,” they said, looking away from the blood oozing from the hole now in Sam’s—or Addison’s?—arm.
Sam placed the sample in a test tube before pressing a gauze on the wound. “This is nothing,” he said, chuckling. “Everything pales in comparison to being in labour.” He extended the test tube to Ian. “Here you go.”
Ian took it, eyebrows high. “I did read about that leap. Utterly bonkers! You really almost had a baby?”
“I leaped out while it was crowning,” he said, bandaging his arm, “thank God.”
Ian grinned. “You’ve been so many different women. And you’re supposed to be cis, huh?”
Sam regarded them with a puzzled look in response. “Cis?”
“Cisgender. It’s when your gender aligns with your assigned gender at birth. Well, it’s a little more nuanced than that, but that’s the gist.”
Ian began heading down the hall to the Accelerator Chamber, with Sam following.
“Well, I’m not so sure about any of that,” Sam said. “Not really my area of expertise, but I can say that I’ve been called ‘she’ enough times that I’ll answer to it without a second thought.”
“Well then, by the trans powers vested in me, I bestow upon you the title of ‘gender fluid’—if you want it,” Ian said with a wink, before placing a hand on the security pad that led to the Accelerator. The door slid open, and the pair walked inside.
“This sure brings back memories,” Sam murmured, eyes rising to the ceiling. He seemed lost in thought for a few moments, turning in a slow circle.
Ian placed the test tube on the central platform. “This is where it all began, huh?”
“Yeah…”
“Well, we’d better get out of here before you and Addison get… I dunno… double-leapt.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “‘Double-leapt?’ Is that a technical term?”
“Shut up.”
They retreated from the chamber, and Ian entered parameters into the terminal that controlled the Accelerator as Sam watched.
“I’d suggest no greater than twenty-two percent power,” he said as Ian tapped away at the keypad.
“Why twenty-two?”
“Because in my Project’s original tests, that wattage was the threshold between getting accurate readings and melting your test tube glass, and I assume you don’t want that.”
“Point taken.” Ian completed their parameter settings, and looked to Sam. “You wanna do the honours?”
Sam looked down at the screen, then back up at Ian with a smile. “No, you go ahead.”
He turned his eye to the glass door of the chamber, looking inside, and Ian activated the Accelerator.