Chapter 3

Sam sat quietly, watching Quorra as she slept. He knew that he didn't have any right to feel this way, but he couldn't help it. The same question ran itself through his mind over and over again. Who? Who? Who? Just when he felt like he was about to lose his mind, he saw Quorra's eyes begin to open. She looked groggily around the room for a moment, then saw Sam. "What's going on?" She asked. "Where are we?"

"We're in the hospital," Sam answered her. He was trying to figure out the best way to break the news to her.

"The hospital?" Quorra asked, surprised. "I've read about it. It's a place for people who are sick or hurt. So—am I sick, or am I hurt?"

Sam was silent for a long moment. He opened and closed his mouth several times, not sure exactly how to begin. Finally, he said, "Actually, you're neither. You're—you're pregnant, Quorra."

"Pregnant," Quorra repeated, as though she was trying to remember what it meant, "I've read about that too. You mean I'm going to…" Her eyes opened to perfect orbs, and her mouth fell open. "I'm going to have a…"

"Baby, yeah," Sam finished for her.

Quorra looked even more shocked than Sam had. "But, but how? You and I haven't—and I haven't with anyone else since I got here! I swear, Sam!"

Sam sighed. "I know you haven't. You've only been here one day, and we've been together pretty much since you got here. But Quorra, what about before you left the grid?"

"What?" Quorra sounded confused, but there was also a touch of apprehension in her voice. "What does that have to do with this?"

Sam looked at her. He couldn't help the hurt he felt at the confirmation that this wasn't some bizarre miracle, that there had actually been someone. He knew it was ridiculous—he hadn't known her then, and she hadn't known him. But still, he couldn't stop himself from feeling hurt. He stood up and walked across the room. He reached the window and looked out, away from her. "My dad had this theory that, if a female left the grid after—how'd he put it—exchanging data with a male, no matter how long ago it had happened, she could become pregnant as soon as she left the grid, though he didn't have to much to say about why. So, if that's true, anyone you—were with, no matter how long ago it was, could be the father."

He turned around to face her again, stealing himself for another question to which he didn't know if he really wanted an answer. He was trying to look at her, but he just couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes. Instead, he stared at her knees under the hospital blanket. "Quorra, I know that your past isn't really any of my business, and you have every right not to tell me anything about who the father is, or who it might be or whatever. But, Quorra, please, I have to know. Is there any chance—at all—that this baby is…" He took a deep breath, and went on in a voice thick with apprehension, "…related to me?"

Sam's eyes closed as he braced himself for the answer. There was silence for a long, excruciating moment. Sam could feel Quorra staring at him. Finally, she answered, "No, Sam. There is no chance of my baby being related to you. There was never anything like that between me and your father."

Sam was flooded with relief, so much so that his knees nearly gave out from under him. He staggered over to the chair beside Quorra's bed, and sank into. He looked at Quorra, meeting her eyes for the first time in minutes. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear that."

She looked across at him, smiling slightly. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but you won't be getting a little brother or sister."

"That is fine by me," Sam answered, smiling back. But after a moment, his smiled faded. He had gotten the worst case scenario out of the way, but the question still remained. After a pause, he asked hesitantly, "So, was it—was he—another Iso, or…" He trailed off when he saw that the question had hurt her. Her face colored with shame, and tears began to fill her eyes. She dropped his gaze, looking down at her lap. She tried to speak, but couldn't seem to get the words out. Sam stood up hurriedly. He held out his hands in a pacifying gesture, saying, "No, no, you don't have to tell me. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. You don't have to tell me anything."

He stood there, staring at her, worried he had somehow pushed her away. She looked down at the covers of her bed. Just as Sam was becoming certain that she would never say another word to him, he heard, in a quiet voice, "There were two."

"What?" Sam asked, not sure he had heard her correctly.

Quorra looked back up at him, and said in a tortured voice, "If it really doesn't matter how long ago it was, then there were two."

"Two," repeated Sam in a toneless voice. He sat back down. He couldn't quite figure out how he felt about that. Two wasn't bad. After all, he'd had more girlfriends than that. But still, it was more than one, and a whole lot more than none at all. After bouncing back and forth between hurt and relieved, he decided to just press on to a different issue. "So how—when did you meet? Who were they?"

Quorra took a deep breath, as though preparing to take a plunge into deep water, and began.