Human (7 page)

CHAPTER V.

"Smith, your body is becoming a liability." Bayron said into the microphone. "Even with the involuntary muscle systems being controlled by the machine, your body is atrophying. We just can't keep it alive much longer. I want to get you online as soon as possible. Let me show you something." Bayron turned the camera that was Smith's eye toward his computer monitor. "Can you see that?"

"Remarkably well, Doc."

"Good. Okay, you see this activity here?" Bayron pointed to a kaleidoscope of red dots glowing and blinking on the screen. "What you're seeing is new memories being written to the artificial brain in real time. Look..." he said pointing to active parts of the screen, "encoding... short term... long term... You are writing this conversation to both your real brain and the artificial brain at the same time. I've been watching this ever since we started doing the audial and visual processing on the model. Every memory you've had since the second surgery is both here...," he tapped Smith's forehead, "...and here," he tapped the monitor.

Smith interrupted, "So let me understand here. You've got all my memories as of the date of my last MRI which was before the first surgery because that's what the model was built from, right?

"Hopefully."

Smith continued, "And you've got all my memories from after the second surgery when the computer took over?"

"Exactly."

"So what about my memories from in between the first and second surgery?"

"They're not in there," Bayron said.

"Gone forever?" Smith asked.

"Well, I guess to the extent you have a conscious memory of some event in that time period and your mind has translated that memory into a visual image after the second surgery then you would have a memory of having the memory which I guess is similar to having the memory. Otherwise, I would assume, it'd be gone."

"I've got a memory in that time frame that I would prefer not to lose, Bayron."

"It would take months to create a new model of your brain incorporating the memories from that period of time and we just don't have that kind of time. Your going to have to try to journal the memory by creating a memory of the memory right now."

Smith could still create a picture in his mind. But would the picture in his mind be picked up by the image decoder that was now part of his machine? He did his best to remember the smell of Hermelinda's skin, the sound of her breath, the feel of her hands. He did his best to remember the sensation of his release, the pleasant dizziness, the feeling of his body merging with Hermelinda's body and the feeling of his soul merging with Hermelinda's soul. He tried to journal every second, every detail of Hermelinda's strange deed for his new brain. As he did so, he saw the red blips and bleeps flash and move on the screen.

Smith was surprised by an intruding thought. It was his first moment of doubt in this whole enterprise. Was it worth risking this memory? Would he rather die with the memory of this loving act or live forever without it? He began to drift off to asleep with this thought in his mind.

Bayron woke Smith abruptly by shaking his shoulder. "Sorry," Bayron said, "I just can't have you sleeping right now. I'm going to have get an electrode into your head so I can get you started on accessing your memories from the model and as you know, I can't have you sleeping while I'm poking around in your brain. "

"You're doing that right now?" Smith asked.

"That was the plan." Bayron replied.

Smith knew that it was silly to even consider gambling away his entire lifetime full of memories in favor of just one beautiful one. He quieted that part of his mind that disagreed. "Poke away my friend," he said.

Bayron thought he sensed some hesitation in Smith's answer. That must be some memory, Bayron thought. It took him just a moment to realize what that memory must have been and he smiled outside of the camera's view. He had no desire to disrespect his friend's privacy or the privacy of Hermelinda who was standing close by. He quickly got back to the task at hand.

"Okay, look, we've been over this many times" he stated, "but...Well you know the drill. Could lose your memories, blah, blah, try to keep the physical portion of the brain intact so that you can gradually start drawing memories from the artificial one, blah, blah, blah, first man in history to have two brains, completely unprecedented, unknowable and unquantifiable risks, blah, blah, blah. Any questions?"

"I don't have any questions, doc. I'm ready for the twilight."

"Hermelinda, I want you to keep him engaged while I'm placing the electrode."

Hermelinda pulled a stool up near Smith's bed and took his hand in hers. She kissed it gently then pressed it to her chest. She didn't care that Dr. Bayron was in the room. Everyone would know soon enough. She was certain that Dr. Bayron already knew what she had done and was enough of  a gentleman not to say it. He probably knows I'm pregnant with Smith's baby too, she thought. He always seems to know everything.

"I can't feel anything, you know," said the cold, computer-generated voice.

"Nothing?" Asked Hermelinda.

"Not with my hands."

"How about with your heart," she whispered into the microphone.

"My heart is dead many months already. But I feel with my soul."

"What do you feel, Mr. Smith?"

"Joy and pain, fear and hope, love. And something else."

"What is it?"

"There is a sensation of becoming eternal. I feel the sadness of outliving my children, including those not yet born. I feel the sadness of not ever being able to feel the warmth of another human being again. I feel the absence of time."

Hermelinda was confused by his answer. At first she thought it was just the mindless babble of a highly anesthetized person whose brain was being manipulated even as they spoke. But then, Smith had always been lucid during the other surgeries. She wanted to know...

"The absence of time?" She asked.

"I can't die. Once my brain is completely virtualized, I really can't die. Of course, that is, unless you count me as dead already, I suppose. But I know I still have a soul and that I feel love. But every thought, feeling, sensation: everything you hear, see, say, touch, is timebound. The more irrelevant death becomes, the more time loses its meaning. Eventually time will cease to measure any aspect of my life and no moment in time will exist, including this one, Hermelinda." Smith paused. "I guess that's what death is. I guess I haven't cheated the reaper after all, have I?"

Hermelinda replied quickly, "Your not dead as long as you have memories."

"But over an eternity, each memory must be accorded a smaller and smaller incremental value solely by virtue of the continually increasing number of memories, until no memory has any significance."

"The important ones will always have significance, Elly."

"I guess that's where mathematicians and poets disagree."  Smith's computer generated voice said. "They say that life is really just a string of special moments, Hermelinda, I hope I don't lose any of the special moments."

To Hermelinda the words sounded far too sweet to have come from a machine. Hermelinda began to tear up. She gazed deep into his camera but there was nothing for her to read in the glass lens as there would have been from his eyes. She felt that his soul was still in there. Only the window into it was now closed.

The moment was interrupted by Bayron. "Aaaaaand...Done."

"That was fast." Smith said.

"For this step, the surgery was the easiest part. We already have all your sensory input feeding the model of your memory center. But now we have to train your prefrontal cortex to access your memories-- which, by the way, includes all of your knowledge -- from the virtualized brain. I don't think this will be as simple as getting you to see through the camera or hear through the microphone. So, get some sleep and we'll start some exercises tomorrow."

No sooner had he spoken than Smith fell asleep. Hermelinda kissed him on the cheek and realized that he had no way of knowing that she had done so. The kiss was for herself anyway.

Bayron addressed Hermelinda. "I couldn't help overhearing. If you ever want to talk."

Hermelinda looked at Bayron's eyes. They were honest and kind. "Dr. Bayron, is it true what he was saying, that once the project is complete his memories will be insignificant?"

"There's no precedent for this, but, unfortunately it makes sense. Memories are temporal. They exist in time. In the absence of time there would be no memory since a moment within eternity is indistinguishable from eternity itself. This is the god paradox." Bayron stopped talking abruptly and his face went momentarily blank. He giggled nervously.

"What do you mean?" Hermelinda asked trying to read Bayron's face.

"Well, god, if you believe in god, is eternal. But He – or She if you prefer – frequently dabbles in the temporal. That wouldn't be scientifically possible. You can't be both time bound and above time at the same time."

"Do you believe in god, Doctor?" She asked.

"Of course. But we've been mortal enemies for a very long time," he replied.

As Smith slept, he dreamed. On this, his first night of processing information through his new virtual cerebral cortex, his dreams were unusually vivid. Usually in his dreams, on those rare occasions that he remembered them, he saw people and places that he knew. Often out of context and character, but at least familiar and recognizable. His dreams this night seemed, somehow, not his own.

One dream in particular scared him more than the others. He didn't know why, after all it was just a dream. In this dream he was standing at the edge of a river. He had never been to Russia, but he "knew" the river was the Volga. In the dream he was in grave danger. He was scared. He was afraid of men he did not know. Then he was on a plane. He saw two leathery hands. They were reaching for his throat. He had never seen such wrinkled hands, nor such strong hands. The hands were dark and smelled of coffee. Then, as dreams often do, this dream trailed into another dream. This one was pleasant and becoming familiar. He was a child, playing in a field of starflowers at night. The starflowers were all Hermelinda.

Smith awoke refreshed. He felt sharp, and alert. He remembered his dream of the Volga clearly. His logical mind told him that it was just the kind of nonsense that the mind entertains itself with at night. His other mind, the illogical one knew that the dream was significant, but didn't know why. Russia. Bayron had spoken about consulting with Russians. Distrust of Bayron was the last thing he wanted to feel now that he was only half human and his life was in Bayron's hands.

Bayron was in the room moments later. "How do you feel?" He asked.

"Better than I have in a long, long time. No headache. I feel pretty sharp, and, I know this is going to sound weird, but, I feel strong."

"Well, you were in pretty good shape when we took the scans that we made the model from. I wonder if you're accessing the computer for your memory of what it felt like to be healthy?"

"How would I know? I mean it seems like the thoughts and feelings are coming out of my own head."

"Well, the artificial brain model is showing an awful lot of activity in the long term memory center. Lets try a little informal test." Bayron opened his ever present tattered black notebook and flipped backward several pages. "Now just before we started this surgery I gave you a little speech. Do you remember what I told you?"

Without hesitation, Smith said, "Perfectly."

"Alright, tell me what you remember."

"Let's see, you came in stood over there, and said: 'Okay, look, we've been over this many times but...Well you know the drill. Could lose your memories, blah, blah, try to keep the physical portion of the brain intact so that you can gradually start drawing memories from the artificial one, blah, blah, blah, first man in history to have two brains, completely unprecedented, unknowable and unquantifiable risks, blah, blah, blah. Any questions?'"

Bayron was startled. He didn't remember every word he had said, and he certainly didn't have a recording of it, but he'd be damned if he hadn't just heard his words back EXACTLY as he had spoken them. It was as if they had been recorded. Bayron's brain acted fast to figure out what he had just experienced. It quickly made sense... if Smith were reading his memories from the machine version of his mind, his memory would, ipso facto, be perfect.

"Okay, let's try another. Do you remember what I said to you before the operation for your eyes and ears?"

Again, Smith repeated the lecture word for word.

"Okay, looks like your accessing memories from the machine. We'll do the formal testing tomorrow. Let's just take the rest of the day off."

Then Smith said something unexpected. "I have work to do. How can I access my e-mail?"

"For now, you'll just have to have someone read it and write it for you, I guess."

Smith took control of the conversation just like he used to do when he was still strong. "I would think it would be easy enough to hook me into the internet through the eyes and ears. Just make an video connection right into my visual processing. It's exactly the same as the camera, but I'll be 'seeing' the computer output instead of you. Then use the same speech-to-text program so I can write and navigate using verbal fingerprints."