by M. C. Tuggle
I was led into a dim room crowded with racks of electronics and whiteboards covered with multi-colored equations. The assistant motioned me toward two chairs and slipped out the door. On the other side of the room, a man in a high-backed chair tapped at one of the three laptops on his desk. I recognized him from his company’s website. Dr. Thomas Malik.
He glanced up and said, “Katie Bergeron?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks for coming. I’m Tom Malik. Please be seated. And if you can hold tight just a moment…”
“No problem.”
Malik leaned close to the laptop he was working on and seemed happy with what he saw. He appeared to be around sixty, had dark, intent eyes, and wore faded jeans and a black linen shirt. With sequins. And something else about him caught my attention. The glint in his eyes told me he was up to something.
Finally, he looked up. “Katie,” he said, “Thank you for waiting. I hope you won’t mind being interviewed with someone you know.”
Someone I know? Calm down, heart. There’s no way it could be—
He glanced around the room like a small boy about to pull a prank. “Cammie, please come in.”
A door opened, and sure enough, it was Cammie. She walked in with a backpack on her shoulder and a strained smile on her face. No doubt I had the same awkward expression.
Malik broke the silence. “I’ve always found twins fascinating, what with their deep psychological bonds. It’s a happy coincidence you two answered my ad without the other’s knowledge. I considered interviewing you separately, but when I read in your applications that your anger issues focused on each other—well, I realized this could be quite rewarding. If you are uncomfortable interviewing together, I’ll work with you separately, though I think it would be better if you can do this together. Do either of you object?”
We eyed each other a moment. “No,” we said in unison.
“Excellent. Give me a moment.”
Cammie sat down beside me and I took a deep breath. Yes, quite a coincidence that both of us applied for this project. No need to mention I’d slipped the flyer for Malik’s project under Cammie’s door, hoping she’d see it. We were both poor freshman at LSU, so I knew she’d go for a gig that paid $100 an hour. My brilliant idea what that she’d tell the interviewer about our ongoing spat and realize how silly she was holding a grudge against me for no good reason. At best, I thought the two of us might accidentally bump into each other between interviews.
But being interviewed together was better than I’d dreamed. This crazy idea might work. It had to. Seeing my twin sister after all these months had sharpened the ache I’d felt since she got mad at me and refused to talk. It hurt. Bad. But I had another concern.
“Dr. Malik?”
“Yes, Katie?”
“Your ad said you wanted to interview people for a research project about their anger issues. That’s good, but I read about your company online and saw you’ve done work for the Pentagon.”
Malik stopped keying but did not look at me.
“And I saw on Reddit that some grad students said this project is about reading people’s minds. Tell me this isn’t something that will illegally spy on people.”
Cammie shot me a supportive glance. For a moment, the anger in her eyes softened beneath her blonde bangs. Despite our long-standing feud, we still shared the same concerns.
When Malik finally looked up, he raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Katie, my company does business with the defense industry. But this project will save lives.”
“How?” I crossed my arms and leaned back.
“I need to fine-tune my MalDetect system. That’s the sensor over your heads.”
Cammie and I gazed up. A silver sphere hung from the ceiling.
“Once installed, it will alert TSA agents to high-risk individuals at airports. It uses ultrasound imaging to reveal the brain patterns associated with certain emotional states. It detects mental agitation, but we’re having trouble getting it to distinguish between distressed, non-violent individuals from those plotting violence.”
Cammie’s only response was a soft sigh. That meant she was satisfied with Malik’s explanation. Good. With any luck, this interview might get me and my sister talking again. As far as anyone knew, our meeting here was pure chance. I chewed my lip to fight back a smile.
I said, “Okay, but I have one more question. Aren’t you the CEO?”
“Yes, I am,” said Malik. “My investors weren’t happy with the progress the former project leader was making, so I took charge. In addition to my work in psychiatry, I’m also a pretty good engineer. Any other questions?”
Cammie and I said nothing.
Malik tapped a keyboard. “Good. I’m recording our proceedings. It is 2:45 PM, Monday, October 11, 2028. Katie Bergeron, you applied first. Do I have your permission to begin scanning?”
I said, “Of course.”
“And Cammie Bergeron, do I have your permission?”
“Yes.”
The sound of soft tapping drifted through the dim room. Malik twisted a laptop around and said, “Take a look.”
On the screen, our brains flashed streaks of yellow, green, and red as they worked. It also showed the ghostly outlines of our eyeballs floating on the outer edges of our skulls. A perfect gross-out.
“Again, my goal is to refine the program to pinpoint the ultrasound patterns of non-violent mental anguish.” He spun the laptop back around. “Before we go into your issues with each other, tell me about your backgrounds. Katie, why don’t you begin?”
He asked for it, and I delivered. So did Cammie. In twelve minutes, Dr. Malik knew the stories of our young lives, beginning with our childhoods fishing, swimming, and camping in the forests and bayous around Lafayette, Louisiana. We told him about the loss of our mother from multiple sclerosis a year ago, our father’s re-marriage, and our scholarships to LSU.
I wondered if either Cammie or Malik had heard the crack in my voice as I talked about how things used to be. Neither one seemed to notice.
Malik stared at his laptop and punched a keyboard. “Good,” he said in a distant voice. “Definite activity in the frontal lobes when each subject mentioned the other. Cammie, tell me what you feel when you’re around your sister.”
“Betrayal.”
Malik looked up from the screen. I felt my jaw drop, and the room turned dead quiet. When I got the nerve to face Cammie, her face was twisted in anger. I knew she was mad at me for some reason, but how could she say such a thing?
Malik broke the silence. “Cammie, would you like to elaborate?”
“Mom needed a lot of help in the last months of her life. Multiple sclerosis is so devastating. She couldn’t put on her leg braces, or see well enough to read, which she dearly loved. So I would read to her. But Katie would always do something to show me up. One time she downloaded an app to Mom’s phone that could scan and read books to her. Mom just went on and on about it. I felt so useless.”
“I did it for Mom, not to—”
Cammie thrust an open palm in my face. “Don’t lie to me.”
Malik yelled, “Damn!”
Cammie gasped, and I nearly jumped out of my seat.
Malik rubbed his temples. “I’m sorry. It’s not you I’m mad at. The system is acting—well, I don’t know what it’s doing. I’ve never seen this before. Look, I don’t mean to interfere, but taking care of one’s parents is stressful. Both of you saw your world turn upside down—you had to care for the person who had always cared for you. And the emotions I’m seeing here tell me there’s deep feeling for each other. Cammie, can you see how your sister probably acted out of concern for your mother rather than malice?”
Cammie crossed her arms. “No. She laughed when I told her how I felt.”
For a long, simmering moment, we gazed at each other. What I’d hoped would be a breakthrough was turning into a disaster.
Worse, I remembered how I’d reacted when Cammie confronted me about Mom. She was right. I’d laughed.
Malik glared at the laptop before looking back at us. “It was a mistake bringing you two together. I was thinking only of my project. Katie, Cammie, I apologize. I’m sorry I did this. I should have interviewed you separately, like I did with all the others. Please understand I did not mean to cause problems.”
Cold silence filled the room.
As the first twin to be delivered, it was time once again for me to take the first step. “Cammie, this is all my fault. I should’ve listened when you told me what you were going through. I knew I was trying to help Mom, so I didn’t take you seriously.”
Cammie stared at the floor. “You should have.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t.”
She wiped her eyes. “It hurt. And, oh, wow, now we’re starting college. Just you and me. It’s scary.”
Malik made a fist. “I’m going to fire the idiot that .…Katie, Cammie, I’m sorry, but we’re done here. The system’s malfunctioning. You’ll get your checks for this session, the full amount. But one more thing, if I may.” He stood up, walked around his desk, and stood in front of us. “You have your memories of your mother; you have all the traits she passed on to you. Those bonds will always connect the two of you to her and to each other.” He shrugged. “Like it or not.”
Cammie replied, “Mom’s traits. Yeah. We got ‘em, alright” Turning to me, she added, “I thought I heard Mom’s voice when you were talking about us growing up. You sound just like her.”
“So do you. And you stuck your palm at me the way she did when she was angry. I knew I was in trouble.”
We laughed.
I said, “It’s like when we’re together, we make her come alive again.”
Malik leaned close and stared down at me, wide-eyed. “What did you say, Katie?”
The quiver in his voice sent prickles down my back.
“I said—I don’t know what I said.”
“I assumed MalDetect was defective. But look at the recording it made when you two were talking about your mother.” He spun a laptop around so we could see it and keyed in a command. On the screen, areas of our brains flashed red and yellow. But in the empty space between us, streaks of blue rippled like waves, pulsed white, and dissolved into nothing, like the northern lights.
“The system wasn’t malfunctioning. I think it’s something else.”
So did I. I cocked my head at Malik. He said nothing.
I turned, and my sister and I saw the glow of surprise and recognition in the other’s face.
END