Resistance

[Adam Deulane]

[Backdated to the second week of school]

Adam had been surprised at first to realize how little Hammel being...well, Hammel, interfered with his teaching. You would think that chaos would rein at a school where teenagers could turn invisible and light things on fire. But the trainers did their jobs well, and teenagers were still just teenagers. There were adjustments to be made here and there, but on the whole Adam made it clear that he expected no distractions and he rarely had to deal with any. Once you gave the entire class a pop quiz because one student projected swear words on the front board, those sorts of things stopped happening.

But there were some instances where things really were different, and Orion and Naomi Stewart were one of those cases. When Adam got his rosters for the new semester, he saw a note on his AP Calculus BC set that listed them as Gestalts. Adam hadn't had a pair in his classes yet, though he had seen them in the halls and Nory had mentioned Orion and Naomi before. Gestalts did not unnerve him as they did some people, but there were some details that needed to be ironed out, like how he would handle the grades of two people who shared a brain.

So, he made an appointment with their trainer. It was here that he was introduced to the varying degrees of synchronization of Gestalts, and the more he learned about the ability the more unpleasant it seemed. None of the adult Gestalts he knew appeared unhappy, but he could imagine only horror at the idea of his individuality gradually slipping away. The Stewarts, their trainer told him with a shake of his heads, were making the process considerably more difficult by fighting their inevitable synchronization. Adam asked if this was common with Gestalt pairs. The trainer replied that some resistance was normal, but the Stewarts were an outlier. The twins were a special case, evidently, fraternal twins and separated for most of their childhoods.

Adam left the meeting with a deep sense of unease, both at the unpleasant idea of what the twins were enduring and the blasé matter with which the trainer had spoken of it. The general attitude of the staff, he had observed, was to help the students along with their synchronization as much as possible. Adam had never had much interest in social norms. That was why, after silently observing the twins for a week or so, he asked them to meet with him in his office after classes.

Adam's office was as it always was—awkwardly crammed in one corner, empty in the others, with whiteboards spanning every available surface. Several piles of homework lay on his desk, and for once he wasn't staring at one of the formulas on the wall and bouncing a marker back and forth between his hands. Rather he waited at his desk with two seats pulled up in front of it. He nodded the twins in when they knocked. “Have a seat,” he said in his typical brusque manner.

[Orion & Naomi Stewart]

Orion and Naomi liked calculus. Admittedly they were better in English—it was one of the few subjects that the Gestalts showed a joint interest in—but they were intelligent and they had determined, albeit with Mike’s help, that they were going to try to make it into a college. Their grades were solid. It was just their record and the fact that none of their family members had ever attended college. They didn’t really know where to start. That was definitely the main issue. But one of the ways to begin was with AP classes, starting with AP Calc. They were generally used to Rivera, and had heard this new guy was hard but not impossibly so. Just socially awkward. That was fine with the twins. They could do their work just fine even with someone being socially awkward. So for the first week, they sat back, listened, asked questions when they had to, and finished their homework in class and handed it in at the end of the day.

It could be handy to be a Gestalt.

A week later, they were being asked to visit the rather intimidating figure after class. They wondered what for. The homework, maybe? Yeesh. It wasn’t worth thinking about. So the twins told their next teacher they’d be late over the email on Orion’s phone—Naomi always broke hers—and went through class as normal. Then, once it was over, they settled in front of the desk.

”You wanted to speak to us?” Orion asked. The twins had relaxed some of their individual speaking patterns, but it was still better if Naomi didn’t speak that much to authority figures.

[Adam Deulane]

"Yes." Adam selected several pieces of paper from the piles on his desk and pushed them to the de-militarized zone between himself and the twins. Adam was of the opinion that a mathematical concept that went unpracticed was a concept that hadn't been learned at all, so even in the first week there had been plenty of homework. Not large assignments, but he wanted to get his students used to working through problems every night.

Adam had decided that the straightforward approach would be best. "I talked to your trainer earlier this week," he said without preamble. "He said that you're not taking the usual approach to your training." He picked up one of their corrected pieces of homework. "There are two people's work in these assignments. Each is picking up mid-thought where the other left off, but you're executing the problems in distinct fashions." He put the paper back on the desk, and the twins could see places where he'd marked shifts. Whatever he meant by 'distinct fashions,' it was something other than handwriting, because the marks correlated with the changes in penmanship but didn't follow them exactly. Adam gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. "Normally teachers give Gestalts one grade on assignments, but I want to hear if there's a different way you want me to approach it."

[Orion & Naomi Stewart]

The twins leaned forward to examine their homework. It was never particularly neat. The two’s handwriting would alternate, and so would their styles. Orion was methodical and careful. Naomi’s was faster and far more slapdash. More often than not they got the right number but it wasn’t always clear how. Two sets of hazel eyes scanned the papers, and then they leaned back in unison to watch Adam. Naomi crossed her arms over her chest, and Orion’s hands twitched before he kept his hands on his knees. Some days were better than others. This was not a good day. Every reminder that they were still not the same made them think about things more intensively.

They did shrug in unison at the next statement. ”Course we’re not,” Naomi said.

”We’re weird.”

”Everyone knows that.”

”But you’re new so--”

”We get it.”

They leaned in to look over at the marks, then sat back and stared at him. In this also their expressions mirrored each other’s. Both of them looked puzzled. But if you looked closely, you could almost see that Orion looked more concerned and Naomi more defiant. But it would take quite an observer of human nature to notice that.

”What do you mean?” Orion asked. “There is only one way to approach it. That’s what it’s been like—”

”Since we got here.”

[Adam Deulane]

The Stewarts were intimidating. Adam would never admit it, but there were times when it was hard to ignore that he was barely five years older than some of his pupils. The twins were aloof, steely, and it was two against one. He resisted the urge to become snappish and instead returned to the papers. His eyes traced over the braided trains of thought in the problems again, then back up to meet the two sets of puzzled eyes.

"Then your teachers haven't been very creative." Adam's gaze flicked to the door, which was closed, then he continued, "There are options besides giving you joint grades on everything." He had looked carefully through each of their assignments and already had several ideas. He might not be able to see the difference in bearing between the two twins, but he could see it in the structure of their problems. "Since you're trying to stall synchronization, I thought you might want to discuss it."

[Orion & Naomi Stewart]

The twins noticed him looking, and two sets of eyes looked to the door, then back at him. Naomi’s head tilted one way, and Orion frowned. But neither of them said anything. It was hard to tell what the twins were thinking, but right now they were definitely thinking hard.

”You’re definitely not normal,” Naomi said at last. She said it carefully, as if she was focusing on making sure every word came out of her mouth and not her brothers. Oddly enough, Orion was smiling, in a very quiet and reserved way.

”But we like it.”

They were silent for a time, then they sighed in unison.

“Thank you.”

”But we couldn’t.”

”Had you offered a couple of years ago—”

”But we think the same now. We’d be cheating.”

”Like, always.”

[Adam Deulane]

Adam didn't catch his eye roll at Naomi's comment quite quickly enough. "I've noticed." But internally he breathed a deep sigh of relief. They seemed to be responding well. Or at least not poorly. Adam would settle for what he could get.

He had not been expecting to be thanked, nor had he expected the twins to sit in thought for so long. Had they really never had a teacher ask them about this before? His gazed moved from one twin to the other as they spoke, and his stormy eyebrows furrowed. It was his turn to wait in thought. He seemed ready to say something once or twice, then he put his hands on the arms of his chair and stood.

"Show me." He scattered a handful of markers across the desk, then began erasing an incomprehensible section of whiteboard. "Give me the derivation of 3x²+4x. Write it together or separately, I don't care, but talk while you're doing it--I want to hear what you're thinking. Please," he added as an obvious afterthought.

[Orion & Naomi Stewart]

Naomi noticed the eye roll and scowled at him. Or really, the two of them scowled until Orion realized what he was doing and caught himself to recover, looking away instead. “Oh, have you?” Orion asked.

”What a surprise.”

The truth was that no other teachers had offered them this opportunity. Most had been sympathetic, but they were all of one mind when it came to them eventually becoming joined. It was necessary, they were told. Painful but necessary. They’d adjust to it given time. Adam was the first one who didn’t seem to believe that. Must be because he was a norm.

The twins looked at him, then at the board. “All right.” They rose to their feet and studied the problem. Then Orion picked up the chalk and began writing. They did it silently. But there were a lot of pauses as if they were mentally arguing, and periodically the style would shift from his methodical style to a more rapid-fire but no less accurate result, even in a different handwriting. Then they stepped back.

“Done.”

[Adam Deulane]

Adam bit his tongue. He was not supposed to lash out, especially not at students. And his interest in what the twins were doing deflected some of the sting of the sarcasm. First at the way Orion hastily dropped Naomi's scowl, then at the way they approached the problem. He saw in real time what he'd observed in their homework--one thought process bouncing back and forth between two different approaches. He scratched his chin thoughtfully.

“Well, it's correct,” he said as he eyed their work. “Though unorthodox. You kept stopping to fight.” He looked from one to the other. “Is that intentional, or just how you work?”

[Orion & Naomi Stewart]

The twins shrugged.

" It's always right." Naomi's voice was matter of fact as always. It also entirely lacked ego, which was also normal. The twins were normally right. They accepted this as a fact they had to learn to deal with. There was not a lot of pride in this.

There was a pause at his question. Then Orion shrugged.

"Both."

"We always worked by arguing at first."

" Now we just do it out of habit."

"It'll have to go away eventually."

"Why?"

[Adam Deulane]

"Well most mathematicians don't do that," Adam said wryly. Still, his stomach gave an uncomfortable hitch when they said that the arguing would eventually have to stop. He was still examining their work. "I could give you feedback on your individual styles, or better ways to approach the problem..." he said, almost to himself. His eyes continued to rake over the simple derivation. "But my guess is that any advice to make your styles more cohesive would ultimately be counterproductive." His gaze flicked to the twins for unspoken confirmation.

[Orion & Naomi Stewart]

The twins nodded. ”Not that we’re adverse to trying,” Orion said.

”The fact is, teach, all Gestalts end up synced. That’s how it works.”

”So if it makes it easier—”

”Might be better.”

There was a pause as the twins studied him, as if they could tell that he was uncomfortable. Then they shrugged.

“But don’t worry about it.’

”We’ll figure it out. Is the way we’re doing it—”

”Particularly bad?” It was said wryly.

”We got the right answer.”

[Adam Deulane]

Adam's eyebrows frowned. "I understood that you were trying to put it off as long as possible," he said slowly.

At their second question, the young man's eyes gleamed and a small smile crossed his mouth. "You did. And if this was 1940 and you had a job calculating ballistic tables for the military, that's all that would matter. But this--" he pointed to the whiteboard, "Is about how you think. The right answer is only valuable insomuch as it is the conclusion of a cohesive process. It's in the process that true understanding is displayed, where you see how concepts fit together, the structure of problems, self-consistent proofs that validate even as they execute! There is elegance in..."

Adam had a sudden moment of self-consciousness, and he trailed off and cleared his throat. "Suffice to say, it's the steps that I really care about," he said, voice suddenly stern. "Your steps are not cohesive, and cohesion shows understanding of the subject. Or that's what I'd tell most other students." He hesitated again. "With you two...it's hard to say."

[Orion & Naomi Stewart]

The twins looked at each other, then away. That was never a comfortable sensation for them. It was like looking in some kind of weird mirror and yet…not. In fact, looking at mirrors was also something neither of them did all that much except when Naomi wanted to put on makeup and, very rarely, when she made Orion put some on too.

Which didn’t happen all that frequently, no. Shut up.

”We are.”

”But there’s only so long we can fight it.”

”It’s inevitable.”

There was a very long silence after Adam’s rant, in which identical pairs of hazel eyes stared at him in equal perplexity. Then both twins chuckled, very quietly.

“We can see that.”

They didn’t seem concerned about the sternness. Once the twins had someone’s measure they very rarely were scared of them afterwards.

”Yeah.”

”We get the subject fine.”

”We just do it differently.”

”And we like that.”

“So what do you recommend?”

”Two homeworks?”

[Adam Deulane]

The detached way that Naomi said 'inevitable,' like an audible shrug, only increased Adam's disbelief and indignation that no teacher had taken their efforts seriously before. Inevitability be damned, if your sense of self wasn't worth fighting for he didn't know what was. He hesitated for a moment on the sentiment of I'm sorry, but even in his head the words sounded stupid.

"I would like to see what you do with two pieces of work. It seems to be a novel concept in this school," he added irritably. "Whatever you choose to do, I'll continue leaving both joint and individual comments." His eyes flicked between the two twins. "If you decide you'd like to try something else, just leave me a note on your homework."