by Olga Werby
“Thank you, Geo,” Toby said. “I wasn’t looking for sympathy.”
“Of course not,” May said. “I’m sorry. I just—”
“I want to be able to live my life the way that’s best for me. Riding lets me experience life. I can run, I can move fast, effortlessly and gracefully. Without riding, I’m…just dying alone.”
Toby’s thoughts didn’t seem befogged by her illness. She understood her situation very clearly—much too clearly.
“I’m sorry.” May wiped away a tear. Kids were not supposed to die young and out of breath.
“I can’t give this up, May,” Toby said. “Dad might make me, if he knew just how much I needed this.”
“I don’t think your dad would do that,” May said.
“He might,” George said. “But we won’t let him.” Would a father really deprive his child of a chance to live a normal life? Well, not a normal life.
Rufus ran over and rubbed his nose into the major’s hand, the one holding Toby’s hand.
They sat without talking for a while. Toby seemed to be sleeping, but of course she wasn’t—Rufus was running around her bed, exploring the soft blankets and smelling the IV and the various tubes connecting Toby to the many life support systems.
A knock sounded on the door, followed immediately by the head nurse walking in. She didn’t wait for an invitation. May moved quickly to grab Rufus, but he squirmed away and rushed to burrow under Toby’s hair, behind her neck.
“A rat?” the nurse said in a very calm voice.
May froze.
“We do allow therapy animals in the hospital, but you are required to check with me first.” The nurse checked the placement of Toby’s oxygen tube and took a note of her vitals. Of course she already knew what those were—all of Toby’s measurements were being monitored at the nurses’ station outside. “Our girl is doing much better today,” she said.
Before George could explain why the rat was there, Toby spoke up.
“He’s Ruffy,” she said.
“Ruffy?” the nurse asked. Rufus peered out from under Toby’s neck and the nurse reached out to pet him. “It’s a nice name. What’s the blue thing on his head?”
“Rufus is a lab rat,” George said.
“So…not a therapy animal then?” the nurse said sternly.
“But he is,” May interjected. “We all work at a university lab and Rufus has been with Toby since he was just a pup. He doesn’t have the official paperwork of a therapy animal, but he works with Toby in a neurology lab. Doesn’t that qualify?”
“Relax,” the nurse said. “Toby is having her best day yet.” She gestured toward Toby’s vitals on the wall monitor. “Rufus is doing a fine job. Just check with me the next time you bring him in. Or any other animal colleagues.” She gave George a stern look. Somehow, even though it was May whom she’d caught trying to hide Rufus, she knew it was George who was in charge of smuggling animals into her patient’s room.
“Thank you so much for your understanding,” George said.
“If I find any droppings…” the nurse said.
“You won’t,” Toby said. “Ruffy is a very clean rat.”
“Glad to hear it.” The nurse turned to George. “Stop by my station before you leave, Major Watson.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Carry on.” The nurse left, leaving the door wide open behind her.
“Well…that was awkward,” May said.
“She’s a very nice woman,” Toby said. “Rufus thinks so too.”
“Why?”
“She smells right.”
George sat back down by Toby’s side. He indicated for May to do the same. “We need to talk, Toby.”
“I know,” she said. “You smell nervous. And May does too.”
“Nothing gets by your nose,” George said.
“I don’t think the piggies will work well for you,” Toby said.
George leaned in. That wasn’t what he thought they would talk about, but he was interested in Toby’s opinions, especially when they had something to do with the Brats project.
“Why not?” May asked.
“They’re too emotional. Everything makes them nervous. Dad said it’s because they’re prey animals; every new situation is a threat.” Toby opened her eyes a bit more; some color had returned to her face.
“You spoke with your dad about this?” George asked. Will had never mentioned to him the possibility that the pigs might not work out.
“A bit. He asked about the new cog-boost—if it was working and such. And I told him that it was hard to control Twiggy even with more power over her brain chemistry. And he said that Kyle and May,” Toby smiled shyly at May, “had a lot of problems regulating Bricks’s anxiety levels.”
“I do find it difficult,” May admitted.
“What do you suggest?” George asked.
“A predator,” Toby said. There was excitement in her voice; her whole body seemed to come alive at the idea. “We’re top predators—I mean we humans. So we would be better at controlling other top predators.”
“So—you want a tiger?” George asked, smiling.
“That would be nice.” She smiled back at him, a slightly crazed glee in her eyes.
“Or perhaps a whale?” he asked.
Toby tensed. The clock ticked. George waited.
“A whale would be nice,” Toby said finally.
“Whale brains are big and complicated,” George said. He didn’t really know much about whale brains, but it had to be true. They were certainly big, much bigger than human’s. “And they live in a very different environment.”
“The ocean,” Toby said. It came out as a wistful sigh.
“An aquatic environment, yes. You don’t even know how to swim. If you don’t mind me asking, why whales?”
“Perhaps because I don’t know how to swim,” Toby said.
“Can we try something smaller first?” George asked. “How about a corvid?”
“A bird? Like a crow?” Toby asked.
“Or a raven,” George said. He had already contemplated adding birds. Having a smart, highly maneuverable, flight-capable animal would be tremendously useful to his team. Major Evans would be happy too. “Ravens are big birds and very intelligent. Their brains are probably big enough to handle the new cog-boost version of the BBI.”
May looked at the major with her mouth open. She obviously thought a bird-drone was a great idea. It would be closer to flying a mechanical drone, something she was very comfortable doing.
“I would love to fly,” Toby said, sitting up in excitement.
“Hey, young lady. Lie back down. You don’t want to get me into more trouble with your nurse, do you?” George pushed her gently back down on the pillows.
“Rufus might get jealous if you flew,” May said with a smile. “Not to mention scared. Don’t ravens eat rats?”
“We don’t have to introduce them,” George said.
“Would the implants work with a bird?” Toby asked. “I’m not sure the brains of birds are very similar to mammalian ones.”
“Really?” May asked.
“Well, I’m not sure, but Vikka and I study all kinds of brains. That’s where I got the idea of riding a whale. Comparative brain anatomy is a very interesting subject. Did you see the posters I’ve got in my office?”
“I’ll take a closer look,” George said. And he decided to have a chat with Vikka too—he should have been using more of her expertise all along. “Right now, I think you need to get some rest. How about getting some sleep? We’d all like to have you back at work as soon as possible. You’re our best rider, you know.”
“Best in the world,” Toby said with a smile.
“In the universe,” George agreed.
“So it worked,” Major Evans said over the phone.
“Yes,” George said. “Toby wants to ride whales. But that’s not surprising—she’s always pushed for new animals to be introduced into the Brats program. It’s the hum
an implants I find troubling. It seems too soon…”
“Toby is getting sicker and sicker. I think we should push for human implants as soon as possible,” Major Evans said.
“Yes, but—”
“I know you’re upset, George. You’ve bonded with this kid and it must be hard to see her suffer like this. But unless you’re not telling me something, her immediate prognosis is good, right?”
“Yes, sir. We expect Toby to recover and be back at the lab soon. Is that all, sir?”
“Yes. Keep me posted, George.”
“I always do.”
George hung up feeling angry. It was a diffuse anger, without focus. The conversation had made George more upset than he was willing to admit even to himself. But there was no point in arguing about motivation and morality with Major Evans. Evans had his job and George had his.
Sitting around the hospital all day and night had given him time to think. It wasn’t just for the sake of the Brats project that he’d stayed at the hospital—he really did care for this girl. And when it came right down to it, he wasn’t angry with Major Evans. He was angry at cystic fibrosis. He was angry at a disease that might win this fight for Toby’s body.
But perhaps George could save her mind—and maybe even her soul.
Ten: +51 Months
Will was having lunch with George on campus. It had been two weeks since Toby had been released from the hospital, but she still required the use of a wheelchair; she just didn’t have very much energy now.
“I’ve been doing research—”
“You, Major?”
“Call me George, please.” The major flashed Will his best Cheshire Cat smile. “Even I have to do research once in a while. I don’t have research assistants like you.”
“So what did you discover in your research…George?” Will asked. He didn’t try to be confrontational with Major Watson, but for some reason, whenever they talked, his words just came out that way. The major irritated him on some fundamental level and he didn’t know why.
“You called me George. Thank you.” The major smiled again.
Will shrugged.
“So, about my research. I’d like to introduce ravens to our menagerie,” the major said.
Will almost coughed up the contents of his coffee cup. “Corvids?”
“Yes. They’re smart animals.”
“Humans controlling birds?”
“Birds are animals too, Will. I’ve done my research.”
“Yes, but it’s a long way to a common ancestor. Snakes are animals, and so are fish, and so are amoebas. But we wouldn’t want to ride them—or birds, either. There’s a big difference between mammalian and avian brains,” Will explained patiently. He never knew how much scientific background he could safely assume with the major. “You’ve heard of birds evolving from dinosaurs, right?”
“That’s what Toby has been telling me,” George said.
“Toby? Really?” Will had no idea that his daughter was learning this stuff.
“Imagine how she would feel flying,” George said.
“Sorry?” Will asked. George wasn’t talking about the project. He was talking about Toby.
“Think of the freedom,” George said, giving Will a curious look. “Soaring above the land, high in the sky. Be a lot better than being stuck in a wheelchair.”
“The wheelchair is just temporary. Until she gains her strength back,” Will protested.
“Of course it is,” George said. But Will didn’t like how the major’s eyes implied something else.
“The new cog-boost implants would be too heavy for birds anyway,” Will argued.
“Ravens are big birds,” the major said. “Some adults are almost four pounds, with a wing span of nearly five feet. Seems big enough.”
“That is big. But the implants are bulky—”
“Will.” George stopped him. “I know you can figure it out. Just think about it. With Toby about to turn thirteen, what could be a better present?”
“It would be nice gift,” Will acknowledged. It was an interesting challenge. He leaned back and thought through some of the preliminary issues.
“Memory is structured differently,” he mumbled. “Corvids, in particular, have incredible spatial memory. They can store thousands of nuts for the winter and actually remember all the hiding places. And they’re tool users. I read someplace that corvids might pass the mirror test.”
“Really? Self-recognition? Who knew they were so intelligent?” George said.
“Oh, yes. Crows, ravens, blue jays, the whole corvid family are the brainiacs of the avian world.” Will felt his enthusiasm growing.
“You don’t say,” George said, smiling.
“But that means we would definitely need the cog-boost to override some of their responses. The piggies are hard to control even with the new implant.”
“I’ve heard.”
Will looked over at George. Did the major know something he didn’t? He dismissed the thought. “But we’ve learned a lot from brain implants in pigs. We now know what we need if we’re to augment the riders’ control over animals’ emotional states. Birds won’t be able to support the hardware, but…maybe we could offload some of the processing to the human side…” Will was brainstorming now.
“What do you mean?” George asked.
“Well, if we had implants for the human riders, it would be easier.”
“Implants for humans?” George asked.
“Yes. We could deposit a web of electrodes directly in the rider’s brain where we need them. We could increase the bandwidth of the connection and not have to work so hard splitting the human feed on the animal side. It’s kind of like using artificial limbs. I mean, not exactly. The bird would still have a mind of its own—we don’t want the riders to completely take over—but the riders would have more…shall we say authority?…over a bird’s behavior and emotional states.”
Will closed his eyes in thought. It was an exciting line of inquiry, but…he opened his eyes again. “No. It’s not ethical. We’ll never get permission from the human subjects protocol commission to operate on the brains of humans for such experimental purposes.”
“Let me worry about that, Will. Go and design what you think would work best for these birds and their riders. I’ll see what I can do about the human subjects commission.”
“But then we’ll still need an actual subject—”
“We have Kyle and May.”
“They haven’t agreed to this.”
“They’re pilots, Will. They’ll jump at the chance to do something like this.”
“It might be dangerous.”
“Going to the moon was dangerous, but we had more volunteers than we needed. People take risks for science. Always have.” George was clearly passionate about this. “Start working on human implants and see what comes of it. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out.”
“Really?”
“Sure. I know you’ll do your best. If you tell me it’s not doable, then so be it.”
“I’ll discuss it with Ben and Lilly.”
Will realized it had happened again—George had talked him into something he’d never have considered on his own. How had it happened so fast? He wasn’t even thinking “birds” before having lunch with George. Or were they just having coffee? He didn’t remember if he had eaten anything. There were no plates in front of them, only coffee mugs. His stomach wasn’t grumbling, so perhaps the food was cleared? He was too embarrassed to ask the major if they’d eaten. George would think Will was a total nutcase.
“Nice to see you, George,” Will said.
George shook Will’s extended hand. “The pleasure is always mine, Will.”
“He agreed to human implants? Just like that?” Major Evans sounded incredulous. “I figured we’d have to push the good doctor a lot harder to get there.”
“Will is insanely smart. He can’t resist a challenge,” George said. “And the experiments with the piglets paved the way.
It was your idea, Major.”
“Glad it worked. Not only will we get better human-to-animal control, but it makes the system much more portable. With both ends having an embed, it’s just antennas in the middle.”
“That’s true, sir. On the other hand, it’ll need more bandwidth, so the link has to be beefier.”
“We can prioritize some resources to that. How long until we have a human with a complete embed?”
“No idea, sir,” George said honestly.
“But the birds will be viable soon, right?”
“I hope so.”
“Keep up the good work, Major.”
George sat in his car for a long time after his phone conversation with Major Evans ended. It was hard to keep track of how many lines they’d crossed on this project. But Toby had such little time left.
“Grrrrock! Grrrrock!” The sound was painful to the ears.
“So it’s Grock?” the major asked Will.
Will shrugged. “He picked it himself.”
The big bird with shiny black feathers was perched on a specially built platform above the monitors in the control room. Ben, Lilly, and Kyle were there as well.
“Grrrrock!” The bird stared unblinking at George with its bright black eyes. “Grrrrock!” The brain implant on the back of Grock’s head pulsed an eerie blue.
“Good bird, handsome bird,” George said, using his child voice.
“Thank you, sir,” said Kyle. He was riding Grock.
Kyle’s implant was quite noticeable, just over his left temple. The team had made a decision to minimize the distance the implanted connectors had to span inside the human brain, even if the external device was somewhat disfiguring. Kyle’s military style buzz cut made his implant particularly visible.
“No offense, Kyle, but I was talking to this pretty bird here,” the major said, still in the same high-pitched voice.
“Of course, sir,” Kyle said.
Grock had joined the Brats lab just two days after he and his siblings were hatched. There were five baby birds in the brood. After fMRI scans identified the two most suitable chicks, those two were implanted with the new BBI devices, while the other three were reunited with their parents at the specialty aviary. Kyle, now the only person on earth with a BBI brain implant, worked with both birds. He’d been riding both since they were just a few days old.
