Elsewhere's Twin: a novel of sex, doppelgängers, and the Collective Id (Divided Man Book 3)
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“I love you,” Kyle said.
The ring moved with her hand as if the finger were there. Rook beamed at it, and at Kyle, and seized him in a passionate hug. She plastered his face with kisses, pausing every few seconds to look at the ring again and melt his heart with her smile.
*** *** ***
A late night chess game had Vesuvius assuring both Rook and Fin that their chess table was behaving strangely, even if they couldn’t see it. His descriptions were vague and confusing, and he seemed frustrated that the humans weren’t more impressed. They cut the experiment short.
What they really needed, Rook decided, was more information about Shaw. He was Fin’s grandfather, and the chessmen in his penthouse matched the queen she’d stolen from Severin. With Kyle and his concubine in residence, she and Fin couldn’t just go collect those other pieces, so she opted for the next best thing. Research.
Driving to Barnes & Noble instead of walking downtown to the used bookstore spared her the likelihood of encountering someone she knew, someone who would notice she wasn’t currently pregnant. They were getting Thumper back, and she wanted to be spared awkward explanations.
She bought a book entitled Brainwashed, and took it home to devour. It felt good to stretch her investigative muscles.
The cover featured a retro television with a gold cross glowing from its screen. The cross, the saintly TV, and its corona of beatific radiance were all printed with metallic ink. But it was the text under the title that piqued her interest.
The Bizarre Family History and Controversial Rise to Fame of Brian Shaw
When Fin returned from signing for his leave of absence at Binary Images, Rook was keeping four different places in the book with her fingers.
“Is it good?” he asked.
“Yes,” Rook said without looking up. “A lot of it is about Shaw’s career, which is boring, but there’s also a whole history of his family, which is anything but.”
“That’s my family too, you know.”
“Yeah, you might not want to start telling lots of people about that, Muffin.”
Rook opened the book to the first spot she’d been saving. She read:
James and Adam Shaw brought their families together each Sunday after church. They were a religious family, and close-knit. James and Adam were twins, their wives were sisters.
Identical twins occur in the Shaw family with startling frequency, perhaps because of early generations’ habit of pairing first cousins for marriage — twin brothers with twin sisters. The previous year, James’s sons married Adam’s daughters in a double wedding, and it was planned for Adam’s sons to reciprocate and marry James’s daughters once the girls got a little older.
On March 9, 1851, the extended Shaw family was gathered at Adam’s house when something terrible happened, something which had an immediate and dramatic impact and changed the course of all future generations of the family. This event led directly to the enigma that is Brian Prophet Shaw.
In letters from the time, the family calls this event the Angelic Visitation (see Appendix I).
A bright, greenish light appeared inside the house, opening a window in the air too bright to look through, obviously a view of heaven. A voice “made of many voices” spoke. There was disagreement about its exact message, but all agreed it spoke of protection or safety. When this “angel” withdrew, it left behind a singular artifact: an ornate chess table. Arrayed across it were the armies, detailed figures carved from jade.
Everyone gathered to watch James and Adam finish the game in progress. The first several moves were uneventful, but when James moved his rook the squares on the board seemed to move. This remarkable behavior continued through several more turns, until a doorway opened in the air. The landscape on the other side was a terrifying “lake of green fire.” Voices cried out, begging and desperate. The Shaw family were convinced they faced the entrance to Hell. They heard Lucifer himself invite them to join him. When they refused, the fallen angel demanded, becoming increasingly agitated. The family fled the house in terror.
“The description of the voices reminds me of the conversations I’ve had with the Id,” Fin said.
“I thought so,” Rook said. “The green fire stuff sounds an awful lot like where I exiled Brook and Bramble, too.”
“Our table opens a portal into the Collective Id.”
“If you play the right game. There’s nothing in here about how the board was set up when these Shaw idiots got it.”
“We’re good at chess, right Cookie?”
“Right Muffin.”
“We’ll figure it out. We’ll solve the puzzle, open the portal, and sneak into the Elsewhere and save Thumper.”
“You make it sound so easy,” she sighed.
“Does the book say anything else helpful?”
The Shaws debated what should be done about the table. It was dangerous and should never be used again. At the same time it was a holy relic, given to them by an angel of God. The angel charged them with keeping it safe, so it could not be destroyed.
In order to assure that the chess set could never harm anyone, it needed to be divided, the parts separated. Abel and Seth Shaw were precipitously married to their young cousins who, at 13, were deemed old enough after all. Those two young couples were given charge of the white chessmen and sent away to find a safe place in which to guard them. The black pieces and the board would remain with David and John Shaw.
Abel and Seth and their child brides had the more difficult mission. After outfitting themselves as well as possible, they set off to found a new home, far away from civilization. They ended up in a rocky, inhospitable valley in the Ozark mountains. Records show they passed through St Louis in May of 1851 (see Appendix III), but after that there is no documented contact with the outside world until the summer of 1949 when 14-year-old Brian Shaw walked out of the woods and into tiny Blessed, Missouri, and into history.
“And back here, in the appendices,” Rook said, flipping to the spot held by her pinkie:
Appendix II
In 1980 I accompanied my mother to her grandmother’s funeral and to ready her old farmhouse for sale. Among the generations of accumulated bric-a-brac in the attic I made an interesting find: a jade figurine, two inches high, depicting an armored warrior. It caught my eye because it was so unlike anything else in the house. In the small wooden chest along with the serene-looking little figure were several handwritten letters.
Those letters and that small piece of carved jade inspired the genealogical research that led to this book.
As you can see from the family tree, Brian Shaw and I are distant cousins. My great-great-great grandparents were Ruth and David Shaw, siblings of the four founders of Shaw Oracle. It’s not possible to say exactly how Shaw and I are related since no public records are available for the 98 years his branch spent in Shaw Oracle.
David and Ruth Shaw took charge of half of the black chessmen and, upon their deaths, passed them on to their grandchildren along with the letter reproduced below. This is the source of my information about the Angelic Visitation.
The white army stayed in Shaw Oracle, more or less intact, until Brian (Prophet) Shaw left in 1949. During excavations of the site, I uncovered a shattered rook, a damaged knight, and an intact pawn. Pictures of those pieces are included in Photo Insert 3, along with a publicity photo of Brian Shaw, taken in his penthouse apartment at the Shaw Ministries Compound. In the background, slightly out of focus, you can make out a display case containing the remainder of the white army. Obviously it meant something to young Prophet Shaw for him to bring it with him to civilization.
“It was her great-grandma’s attic where she found the pawn,” Rook recapped, “and on the family tree her great-grandfather’s name is Parnell Tanner. Ever heard of him?”
Fin shook his head.
“The pictures from her dig in Missouri are cool.” She flipped to the spread. “The pieces she excavated definitely go with the ones we’ve seen.”
“We know something happened.” Rook handed him the book. “The table is real.”
“Well it must have been the Id. Where people now see aliens, then it was angels. It depends on the current state of the collective unconscious. That’s how the Id operates.”
He stopped speaking and stared at the open book.
Rook waited for several seconds. “What’s up?”
“I have to ask Brad about great-great-grandpa,” Fin answered. “The knight in the picture matches those horse figurines of his.”
*** *** ***
Kyle was turning out to be something of a disappointment.
Agreeing to his terms without negotiation was an obvious blunder, in hindsight. It had seemed reasonable to suppose Kyle wanted to see humanity unified. His track record spoke for itself. Acquiescing to his short-term demands served to help him establish a home here, and in that regard succeeded immensely.
Now it would mean breaking a promise to approach Fin again, meaning Kyle had made himself the sole option. And he was preoccupied with other matters. Copulating, principally. Like now, for instance.
“I thought you liked to keep the dress on.”
“I don’t need it so much anymore.”
“Need it?”
“To keep from splitting apart. Ever since you gave me this ring, I’m cured. I’m whole.”
“That’s wonderful. Move your knee a little.”
“Ohhhh!”
“Mmmmm.”
This round of activity would last for hours. It happened several times per day, leaving little time for anything else. Kyle had no interest in anyone but the female, nor any goal other than more intercourse with her.
Could this possibly be the same Kyle Tanner?
Fin and his female, on the other hand, pursued several interests besides one another. They played a good deal of chess, albeit not many actual games in the conventional sense. They also maintained close contact with a tight circle of family and acquaintances.
Surveilling Fin was force of habit, with a twist of wistfulness. And it was not forbidden by the terms of their agreement with Kyle. Despite the fact that working with him had been arduous, and despite the ferocity of his refusal to help with the unification project, Fin remained an object of fascination. He too had evolved a great deal. Matured. Many signs pointed to him as the agent of destiny, which made it inscrutable that his attitude about completing the work was so enduringly hostile.
Logically, those signs must point to Kyle instead. A message speaking of one Tanner might be mistaken for the other.
Kyle at least never repudiated unity. Was working with him any worse than working with Fin?
Impossible to say, as working with Kyle was still in the realm of the hypothetical.
He was a different person than the impassioned orator and skillful general who, not so long ago, nearly brought about a form of mental unity for his species.
He needed a reminder of those heady times, of his power and what it felt like to wield it. He needed motivation.
When properly motivated, he showed the ruthlessness necessary to usher in such an enormous transformation. He sacrificed 3,000 human lives for the sake of a grand vision. It had not been Kyle’s own vision, but one he appropriated from Shaw. That was the tragic thing, that he’d had to be stopped. Could his efforts have been redirected rather than counteracted, the great design might have even crystallized then.
Seeing Kyle fall, supplying the fire that burned him, had been confusing and distressful. Fin called those shots. He wasn’t satisfied until Kyle lay broken. Kyle, now risen from the ashes, had a second chance if only he would see it.
He should be demanding action, atonement. When he called to be brought to the asteroid, hope flourished that Kyle would take command. Amends could be made!
His apathy was like being spat upon.
It was time to press the issue, rouse him even if it meant angering him. As soon as he had taken his fill of the clone woman, Kyle would part with a few moments of his undivided attention. It was a small price for room and board.
*** *** ***
Vesuvius worried about his humans.
Rook sat on the sofa, feet tucked under herself, flipping through her new book and marking pages with strips of newspaper. Her serious expression was at odds with the fanciful paisley pattern of her minidress.
Fin kept fidgeting with the chess table, frowning and sighing. The storm clouds in his eyes showed no signs of lifting.
The doorbell rang, filling the house with the oddly somber sound of La Cucaracha played on a xylophone.
“I hate that doorbell,” Fin said as he crossed the room and opened the door.
Vesuvius was surprised. It seemed like something Fin would like.
Willow and Brad walked in, doing nothing to lighten the mood. Willow carried Zen in her car seat. Brad brought a shoebox.
“Mom, Brad. Thanks for coming.”
“Ba!” Zen said, which brought a small smile to Fin.
“Ba yourself, Zen,” he said and made a face at her.
“Did you bring them?” Rook asked. “The knights?”
Brad held up the shoebox. “They’re just horses, but yes, I brought them. What’s going on?”
Vesuvius listened with interest while Fin and Rook tag-teamed each other, telling Willow and Brad what they learned from their research into Brian Shaw.
“You think this is the chess table,” Brad said, pointing. “The one from the angel?”
“Yes,” Fin and Rook both said.
“We don’t think it’s really from an angel,” Rook was quick to clarify.
Fin pointed out which pieces came with it.
“This rook,” Rook said, picking hers up, “belonged to my grandmother. I used it as a pendant until Fin brought the table home. It matches this other one, see? Plus she had a twin sister, and my Uncle Wyatt and Uncle John are twins. My grandmother must be descended from those Shaws.”
“Which means you are, too, Cookie,” Fin chided.
“I do realize that, dumbass,” Rook teased back. “That brings us to your knights, Brad.”
Brad looked trepidatiously at the Nike box beside him on the floor. “They’re just horses.”
Rook flipped her book open to a page toward the back and held it up for Brad and Willow to see. “They look like this, don’t they?”
Vesuvius took advantage of the opportunity to finally see what all the fuss was about. The pages each showed two color photos of damaged chess pieces made out of luminous, pale jade. The first was a lonely castle tower, shattered in some long-ago accident, the fragments fitted together like an incomplete puzzle and matching in every detail Rook’s old pendant. Below it on the page was a warhorse figurine made of the same ghostly green jade, missing its right foreleg and ear, and its tail.
Brad nodded once, picked up his box, and handed it to Rook. Willow took possession of the book and began to leaf through it. Vesuvius couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
“Just because they match, it doesn’t mean it’s the same set,” Brad said. “I’m sure the manufacturer made tons.”
Rook was busy with the newspaper-wrapped contents of the box, and didn’t reply.
“I don’t believe that,” Fin said. “And I don’t think you do either, Dad.”
Brad sighed and watched Rook set the knights on the coffee table in front of her. Apart from being a darker shade, and intact, they were identical to the one in the book.
“I’m awfully tired of all this intrigue,” Brad said. “I want our family to have a normal life, and if Rook’s some relative of Shaw’s, and your mother is his daughter, it would be nice if I wasn’t also in the tree. But in fact the opposite is true. I have both knights.”
“It’s a distant relationship. Like fifth cousins, or something,” Willow said.
“That’s just it, though,” Brad said. “I’m doubly related. One of those came from my mom and
one from my dad. Mom always said that’s one of the ways they knew they were meant to be together: they each inherited one of these horses. They saw it as romantic. And while we’re talking about it, my dad had a twin brother, and so did my grandfather. And on my mother’s side, my Grandma Mirabelle had a twin sister. And her maiden name was Shaw.” Brad looked queasy. “Shit. I hadn’t thought about that.”
***
Vesuvius tried to calculate how many generations of inbreeding could be crammed into 98 years.
All that genetic purification distilled into a single individual, Brian Shaw, who then impregnated Gale, the offspring of the Id itself. Vesuvius could not believe that was a coincidence, but he could also not believe the Id was capable of such long-range planning.
If you ignored the Shaw family after the Id’s failed gambit with the chess table, the next bit of interference Vesuvius knew about was the creation of Gale and Severin. From everything Vesuvius heard, the twins in the family were always identical, but Gale and Severin were the shining exception. Being opposite genders made them unique in the Id’s sphere of influence, so clearly it was important. The obvious conclusion was the Id intended for them to mate and produce children. To what purpose?
Perhaps what the Id intended didn’t matter any longer. Gale and Severin were kept separate until it was too late for them to reproduce, at least together. With their raison d’etre out of reach, each was driven to procreate with Id-touched individuals. Gale entered into Brian Shaw’s orbit and bore him twin daughters Willow and Melissa. Severin fathered Rook — and her no-longer-imaginary pseudo-twin — with a woman of the Shaw bloodline. The Id bided its time, the one thing it had in abundance.