Q gazes steadily back at him. His breathing is a little heavier and again it's nothing to do with the weather. And his mind is still. It doesn't happen often, the complete stillness and tranquility in his usually rushing mind. But looking at Robert it's like a pause. Quietness. Comfort. It doesn't feel like looking down a family line. It doesn't feel the same as seeing his father and his grandfather and great-grandfather in a photograph and knowing where he came from- because it's as though he's looking at a man and knowing exactly where he came from.
It's not even implausible. It isn't even as though they're hugely different in their mannerisms and internal functioning. He doesn't need to know any more about Robert to know that he has the same sounds in his mind as Q does. That there are moments of stillness and moments of noise. Maybe not the same noise, but noise.
Somewhere in the future there will be another one of them.
Before Samir Q had never considered the progress of the soul. Spirituality had never been something he has taken time over. He's too practical, too scientific to let himself. But he's quietly read about it, knowing it is important to someone important to him. So he's learnt and he's thought, given it consideration. So again the prospect isn't alarming.
Q smiles. Mainly because there is something akin to relief in Robert's eyes and he feels it like an embrace around him. So much- he's caught up in it so much that the rest of the lines trip off of his tongue before he thinks about it. "...we're bound to others. By every crime and act of kindness we birth our future."
He cocks his head with a curious little frown, wondering where he's heard that to know it.
But then of course that is Robert's hypothesis. The realisation dawns on him and he beams.