Fission

Chapter 18

Diplomacy

“So, Richie, which is it?” Brenda said as the twin Sams ate their lunch, each trying not to look at one another. “Did you come here to see off Bobby, or rub it in his face that you’re gonna be safe while he risks his neck?”

Across the kitchen, Al was watching the Sams with a concentrated stare, nervously sucking on a cigar while he observed the conversation.

Similarly, Sam A watched on with concern—how was his negatively charged counterpart going to answer this? Sam B’s face went through a series of emotions, before he finally took a deep breath.

“Well, Brenda, I was actually here to participate in a protest march. It was entirely by chance that he spotted me on the street.” He took a bite of the salad on his fork.

Okay, Sam A thought, that’s not so bad.

Brenda scoffed. “A protest march? Could you be any more insulting to your own brother?”

“Hey, now come on, that’s not fair,” Sam A interjected, eager to defend the purpose of the protest. “If there was no war, then I wouldn’t have to risk my life, now would I? My brother is just lookin’ out for me. Now surely there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Brenda glared at him, clearly surprised by his excusing of Richie’s actions. “You really believe that? You told me he was just being a coward, hiding away from his patriotic duty.” She jabbed a fork at Sam B. “And we wouldn’t be at war if those commies weren’t trying to take over.”

“Take over Vietnam. What business is it of America’s anyway?” Sam B grumbled. “It’s just throwing a bunch of innocent, working class men into a meat grinder for nothing.” He looked pointedly at Al. “And those that survive are gonna be suffering the consequences for the rest of their damn lives. And for what? So-called freedom? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think you can really be considered ‘free’ if you have to choose between mandatory military service or a prison cell.”

Al winced at the heated rant. “I think you’d better watch your mouth there, Sam…”

Brenda slammed down her fork. “What are you saying, Richie? You hate this country? You hate your brother for fighting for it?”

“Hey…” Sam A said in a soothing tone. “He’s entitled to his opinion. No need to—”

“How can you put up with this disrespect, Bobby?” she demanded. “He’s saying you’re going over there for nothing!”

He kinda has a point, though, he thought, and was considering whether or not to say it when he saw Al shaking his head.

“This is not a productive conversation,” he said, apparently to both of them at once. “Brenda’s gonna flip her lid in a minute, and you don’t want that if you still intend to save the baby, now do you?”

Sam B dropped his gaze to the remnants of his meal. “It wasn’t disrespect. It was love for a brother.”

Sam A licked his lips, knowing that his double was talking about Tom. And even though he recalled saving his older brother from his demise, he still also remembered a time when he’d never returned from the war.

“Okay, I think that’s enough political talk for now,” he said, throwing up his hands and trying to ignore the painful emotion that had swelled in his chest. He flashed Brenda a tight-lipped smile. “Richie, you’re leaving in a minute, right? I’ll walk you out.”

Sam B nodded. “Thank you, Bobby.” He gave a polite, but brusque nod to Brenda. “Thank you for the meal, Brenda. And good luck with your baby. I hope it’s born healthy.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, but Al gave him the glower to end all glowers.

The two Sams headed out to the doorstep, with Al following closely behind.

“Well, I sure hope that Brenda and Bobby’s tenuous reconciliation didn’t just unravel,” Sam A muttered. “You probably should learn when to be quiet.”

Sam B rolled his eyes. “Oh, would you cut it out? Why do you have to act so untouchable, huh?”

“Why do you have to put your foot in your mouth all the time? She’s clearly got a hot temper, so why would you stoke the fire like that?”

“Well, if you’ll recall, I’m set to be killed in less than a week, so I’m maybe a little passionate about the issue.”

Hey!” Al shouted at the top of his lungs, causing both Sams to shut their mouths and look at him. He adjusted his suit jacket and glared at the two of them. “Cool it, you two, or I’ll leap back here myself and kick your identical behinds.”

The Sams exchanged an amused glance.

“Now, you—” Al pointed a finger at Sam B, “—get going. I’ll come with you; Ziggy should be able to help you find what you need. And as for you—” he pointed to Sam A, “—well, I hope you’re right that you can convince Boozy Brenda to give up the hooch. But you don’t have long to win her over.”

“Leave it to me,” Sam A said, crossing his arms as Sam B headed to Bobby’s car. Al transported his holographic body into the passenger’s seat, and he waved to Sam A as the pair of them left.

Sam A headed back into the house.

Alright, time to save a baby.

*        *        *

As Donna headed back to the Control Room after her restless sleep, she noticed Verbena waiting by the main console. As she approached, the psychiatrist gave her a pointed look.

“What is it?” asked Donna. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, nothing wrong. Just need a quick word, if you have the time. It regards the twins, and the Imaging Chamber.”

Donna raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Well,” Verbena said, furrowing her brow, “I was thinking about how for the first couple of hours into the leap, Al was able to get a good signal for the Sam who’d leaped into Bobby. At the same time, our guest in the Waiting Room was identifying as Bobby. I was wondering if the two could be connected?”

“Huh,” Donna said quietly. That was a connection she’d missed. “You’re saying that the signal strength for each twin may be defined by how much of them is currently presenting?”

Verbena nodded. “And I also wonder if the LSD might have been what was suppressing Richie at first.”

She might be on to something there.

Donna grinned, patting Verbena on the arm. “Good thinking! Let me check that with Ziggy.” She placed her palm on Ziggy’s activation panel. “Ziggy?”

“Yes, Doctor Elesee?” Ziggy’s voice boomed from the ceiling.

“Would you mind running the odds on—”

“Doctor Beeks’s hypothesis about the link between the Deleon twins and the functionality of the Imaging Chamber?”

“Precisely.” Donna suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at the disinterested tone Ziggy was giving her.

“I can predict with a ninety-four point eight percent probability that testing the idea will prove fruitful. Of course, the two aspects of Doctor Beckett will need to be further than fifty miles apart from one another to attain proper results in such a test. Currently, they are four miles apart, meaning that the Imaging Chamber has a largely solid link with both halves.”

“Wait, they’re that close?” Donna asked. “Nobody told me that. I take it Al’s been able to speak to the both of them?”

Verbena smirked. “They were both already together when he got there, Donna. And he says they’re at each other’s throats.”

“Why?!” That didn’t sound like Sam at all.

Verbena put an arm around Donna’s shoulders. “Let me explain to you about the ego, id, and superego…”

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