by Robert Berke
The entire surgery barely took two hours. Throughout the procedure, Smith had waking dreams about butterflies, rainbows, and flowers. He only felt pain once and began blinking his eyes. Bayron noticed the activity and explained that the pain was because his heart had stopped momentarily as he switched control of it from Smith's damaged brain to the new, artificial one.
Bayron reassured him that the pain was a good sign since it meant that his involuntary nervous system was already being controlled by the model brain instead of the biological one.
When the surgery was over, Smith felt very tired, but he knew from his conversations with Bayron that he could not sleep yet. He knew he would be given a stimulant to prevent him from falling asleep.
Other than being tired though, he felt no different. He wasn't sure how he expected to feel, but at least he expected to feel different. After all, by some definitions he had just died.
Hermelinda had raised the head of Smith's bed so that he was in a seated position. She sat on the edge of his bed near his knees. "You okay, baby?" She asked. He smiled a weak smile and Hermelinda knew he was going to be fine.
"Dr. Bayron asked me to keep you company for a few hours while he tries to get a little rest. He said not to let you fall asleep. He wanted me to let you know that all of your involuntary muscle functions are now being controlled by the model. He said that some of your circulatory system may have suffered some atrophy and he's worried about blood clots, so I'm going to give you a little massage now to keep your blood circulating and prevent clotting in your legs, okay?"
Hermelinda knew how to read Smith's eyes. It was a skill she had picked up when he was no longer able to speak. His eyes said yes, but they said it very emphatically. What was she noticing, she wondered? It was his pupils. They seemed somehow shinier or blacker or, maybe, bigger.
"Your vital signs are great," she said. Your heart rate is steady as a metronome, your pulse is strong. Your lungs are working at full capacity. Now that involuntary muscle systems are being driven by the model, you've got the vites of a 30 year old. Even your eyes look sparklier. Dr. Bayron must be opening a bottle of Champagne with his crew right now watching these vitals."
She began massaging his toes, then his feet, his ankles and calves, and then she noticed something she hadn't seen in many, many months. Smith had become visibly aroused. This was all the proof that either Smith or Hermelinda needed to accept that the computer running his involuntary muscle functions was doing a damn good job. She knew that, as a professional, she would have to report this event to Dr. Bayron.
For the many months she had shared a bed with him, neither had been able to act on their feelings for each other. Even though she had lovingly cared for him and even as he had gently stroked her hair, the idea that they could be intimate, physical lovers, had always seemed impossible. She wondered if it would cause any harm if she just...
She had wished for this for a long, long, time and knew that he also longed to make love to her. For years now they had been the main fixtures in each other's lives. His eyes said "please" and they said it with a burning intensity. They said it with desire.
Hermelinda's face went flush when she paused to consider what she had just been thinking. In fact, it gave her a chill. She couldn't believe that the thought of making love to him in this condition had even crossed her mind. But something else in her, something less rational and more instinctive repeated over and over in her subconscience: this will be your last chance.
After taking a furtive glance around, she climbed into Smith's hospital bed. Though he had no control over his voluntary muscle movements, his involuntary muscles did everything they were supposed to do.
She saw Smith blush. She couldn't recall the last time she had seen color in his face. It was a machine calling the shots for his involuntary muscles now, but between the arousal, the consummation, and the blush on his face, it certainly seemed to be working like a healthy human brain. Fortunately, Smith had been pumped full of stimulants, so he couldn't just fall asleep like the last man she had been with. She chuckled to herself a little bit: Now that would have been the TRUE test of whether he was man or machine, she thought.
She cleaned Smith quickly. She wished she could change the sheets.
Up in the lab, after the initial celebration for the success of the operation, Bayron had stolen away to his private office to shut his eyes. He had not quite dozed off yet when he heard a knock at the door. "What is it?" He asked, expecting the worst.
The voice on the other side of the door, marked with a hint of an Eastern accent, said, in cool clinical terms, "Dr. Bayron, there is an anomaly on the readings." Dr. Bayron was on his feet instantly and ran to the lab to look at the monitors. His team had gathered to look over his shoulder waiting for Bayron's reaction.
"My God!" He said, turning to address his team. "It looks like our patient just had an orgasm!"
A loud cheer filled the lab, punctuated by the pop from the cork of another bottle of Champagne. Bayron made a quick shorthand note in his black spiral notebook.
The young man with the slight accent shook Dr. Bayron's hand and said, "We did good, Doc."
"We did great, Sharky," Dr. Bayron replied, clapping the young man on his back. He was glad he was able to share this moment of success with his protégée.
Sharky had a unique talent for engineering and an imagination which made it possible for him to fabricate tools that had never before had reason to exist. So many of this young man's ideas had been incorporated into the overall design that Bayron had been forced to acknowledge that he couldn't have accomplished what he had already accomplished without him.
CHAPTER III.
In a hospital room in St. Petersburg in Eastern Russia, a doctor walked into a hospital room with an x-ray and gave his patient unpleasant, but not unexpected, news. The stiffness and pain in his hands would not get better, it would get worse and it would spread throughout his body. Vakhrusheva accepted this diagnosis as he had long ago made it for himself and knew it to be true.
Smith's doctor had something more interesting to show to his patient than a mere x-ray. Bayron entered the hospital room carrying a jar. On the jar was a printed label: "JAR ONE., Smith, E., Ref. 1.1.0-1.1.964."
In the jar was a clear liquid which had just a suggestion of a yellow hue. Floating in the jar was a greyish lump. It looked spongy and fragile. Smith marveled at the fact that this tiny little mass had successfully controlled all of his involuntary muscle functions for nearly his entire life--His entire life with the exception of the last 24 hours or so. He also marveled at the fact that he didn't seem to miss it at all.
Bayron placed the jar in Smith's line of sight. "This is the first part of your brain that has been replaced with technology. You no longer control your involuntary muscles. But the model of you does. If the model is accurate, as I am certain it is, you shouldn't feel any different at all because the model is working the exact same way this little grey lump did when it was in your head." Bayron picked up the jar and held it up to the light marvel at both its complexity and its simplicity.
"I wanted you to see it before I dissected it," Bayron continued. "It's a dubious distinction, but you are part of a very small club of people who have seen their own brain and lived to tell about it." Bayron looked at Smith's eyes hoping to read a reaction to his remark. Like Hermelinda, Bayron had become skillful at reading Smith's eyes and, like Hermelinda had the previous evening, he noticed something new in them.
Bayron took a small penlight from his labcoat and shone it into Smith's eyes. His pupils: normal, his tracking: normal. Bayron took a small rubber hammer from his coat and began tapping Smith's knee. Reflexes: normal.
It had been so long since Smith's body had reacted normally that the "normal" readings were, in fact, remarkable.
Bayron looked at Hermelinda. Hermelinda wondered if she should tell him just how normal his body was acting. "Normal." She said smiling. "Very, very normal." Hermelinda saw a faint blush form ov
er Bayron's face. The blush on his face wordlessly communicated the fact that he knew about Smith's orgasm. She was glad he blushed. She would have been embarrassed to have to tell him in words.
"Okay, there are just a few things I want to review with both of you before I go to sleep for the next three days to recover and prepare for the next surgery."
"First, Hermelinda, I put shunts in his skull where I opened it for the catheters so the holes would not close. That way I won't have to drill again for future surgeries. The shunts are sealed, but you have to keep the skin around the shunts very, very clean.
"The shunts are glued in place for now, but eventually they will start to fuse with the bone. This could cause spurs, so be on the lookout for any discomfort in that area.
"The wires coming from here," he said holding up two thick cables that were coming out of Smith's shaved head behind his ear, "carry the impulses from the artificial brain to his central nervous system. Because those impulses are electrical, these wires are shielded in lead as is this entire room, but you cannot let anyone in here with any kind of radio or cell phone. Keep everything electrical as far away as possible. Okay?
"Now, the model brain is stored on the computer array in the next room which is also lead lined. If anything should compromise these walls or the wires, he's in all probability going to have a heart attack. Minimally an arrhythmia, lung spasms, god only knows. If that should happen, god forbid, we have all of the traditional life support systems right here, including a breathing machine, and an artificial heart. There is an alarm system to warn of problems. If you hear this.... don't even think, just get him on the life support.
"On a similar note, there is no substitute for vigilance and common sense. Do not rely solely on the alarm system. If you even just feel like something's wrong, just start the life support and call me immediately.
"Also, Hermelinda, as soon as Alice gets here to keep watch and you've gotten her fully briefed, I want you to get some sleep. Smith," he said to the corpse like body on the hospital bed, "you should get some sleep now too. You've had a busy day."
Hermelinda yawned. "Aye, aye Captain." Bayron chuckled. She was human. He wanted to say something to prove to her that he was human too, but he couldn't think of anything to say. He hoped the chuckle would suffice.
As Bayron walked out, Alice walked in. Even though she was nearing fifty Smith had always looked forward to her coming for her schoolgirl-like cheerfulness. He admired her for her easy smile, good disposition, and thorough competence. He didn't care about her daily adventures or the latest news about the latest Hollywood divorce, but she had such a charm and enthusiasm in the telling of her stories, that they always kept him entertained, even if he sometimes had to struggle to understand her thickly accented English.
That, in addition to the fact that she wasn't much to look at, made her a good choice as a night nurse.
Before she left, Hermelinda kissed Smith tenderly on the forehead. "Good night, lover," she said so only Smith could hear.
Six weeks went by, and the artificial brain was keeping the real one alive flawlessly. Bayron had often said that the only thing one could expect was the unexpected. Everything working perfectly was truly unexpected.
Smith's body had continued to decay. When he ceased to be able to swallow, he was switched to an intravenous diet. The lack of solid food coupled with the atrophying of his muscles made him look like a living skeleton.
The MRIs and EKGs showed normal brain function, but with Smith unable to communicate even with the smallest gestures, it was hard to be certain. Even if his mind was functioning normally, who could say how much longer it would do so?
Bayron spoke to Smith as Hermelinda sat on the bed and listened quietly.
"Over the next few days, we're going to get you talking again.
"I'm going to do this in two phases. First, I'm going to wire the speech emulator to your real brain. The emulator is just a mechanical replacement for your vocal chords. But I need to adjust it so that it converts the electrical impulses in your brain- that is, the things you want to say- into comprehensible speech.
"Once we are successful at translating the speech-related brain activity into words, then we can remove that part of your biological brain and replace it with the computer model. That will be phase two.
"If you can even hear me, I know you understand why I can't do this all at once. Hopefully, we'll be able to make the decision together as to when to start phase two."
Smith lay completely motionless except for his chest which was moving ever so slightly as the artificial brain controlled his breathing in a perfect emulation of the part of his brain that had already been removed.
It had become harder and harder for Bayron to read Smith's eyes. To him they looked hollow and dead. But Hermelinda still seemed to know what Smith was thinking and feeling. It was as if they were connected, which, because of the baby growing inside her, was more true than Bayron knew.
"Okay, Smith, old pal, you know the procedure. I'll give you a topical anesthetic followed by a local under your scalp. The only real difference this time is that there won't be any drilling. I just have to uncap the shunts and, if you'll forgive the humor, 'tap your brain.'" Bayron tapped Smith's forehead gently. He knew that Smith would have appreciated the humor and he smiled at his own joke.
He became serious again as he addressed Hermelinda. "Get the drip started. Just because he can't show it, doesn't mean he can't feel pain. Let's make sure he's as stoned as a hippie before I go in there."
Hermelinda opened a tiny valve on one of the intravenous tubes. Though nothing about his appearance changed, Smith's still functioning mind was awake. As the sedative seeped into his bloodstream, his thoughts were replaced with streaming images of meadows, tulips, and bunnies. He let his mind become absorbed in the images. He had been a prisoner of his conscious thoughts for weeks and he welcomed this waltz with his subconscious.
Smith was unaware that he had fallen asleep and was surprised when he woke up. He knew that Bayron would not have let him fall asleep until the operation was complete. So, he figured, the operation must be over. I'm alive and self-aware, he thought, so it must have went well. He wished he could see clearly but his brain had been slowly losing its ability to decode the information it was receiving from his eyes. If this phase of the operation had been successful as he suspected, then there would be another thick white cable coming out of one of the shunt holes on his head leading to a rack of computers. Smith could clearly recall the sketch Bayron had made for him when they were planning this phase. He wondered how Hermelinda was taking all of this. He felt fully alert and he heard voices. First Bayron and then Hermelinda. Did they know he could hear them, he wondered.
Ever since Smith's body stopped moving and he became unable to communicate, both Bayron and Hermelinda found it increasingly difficult to remember that he was actually still conscious and still human. His body had become a completely useless thing, emaciated and lifeless. With the plastic shunts around his skull, the wire connecting him to the speech computer, and the other wire disappearing through the wall to the array in the next room, he looked more like an object than a person.
Smith felt like the invisible man when they spoke. There he was, hearing everything they said while they conversed as if there was no one else in the room. He listened intently.
"Curious?" Bayron asked Hermelinda.
"It all looks so complicated," Hermelinda replied.
"It's not that complicated really. Let me show you. I'd like you to know how some of these things work anyway."
"If you have the time, Doctor, I'd like that. It's been lonely here without him."
"I'm not eager to get back to the lab, either. I have to keep things so serious there."
Smith was amused by what he heard. Was this flirting? It sounded so silly when other people did it. Was he ... jealous? Could he actually smell her, or was that just the memory of her scent? He pulled his concentration back to their conversati
on.
Bayron had become the scientist again. Was he afraid to flirt or just terrible at it? "This box here is what we've been calling the speech emulator," Bayron said. "Its not really a speech emulator though. When people think of a speech emulator, they are really thinking about text-readers. A text reader simply assigns different phonemes – letter sounds - to specific groups of letters. So if I input the letters 'c-h' into a text-reader, it outputs the sound 'ch'. Compared to what we have here, that's baby stuff.
"This machine, on the other hand receives a combination of non-binary electrical impulses and brain wave activity and assigns a digital value to them."
Smith could picture the confusion Hermelinda's face would have displayed when she tried to decipher that science-babble. Smith was relieved for Hermelinda when he heard Bayron continue.
"So, if I show Smith an apple, and he uses the speech center of his brain to associate the idea of an apple with the word apple we can assign a digital signature, sort of a fingerprint, to the concept of apple. Then that fingerprint can be associated with the word. Now what will be really cool to see is whether the artificial brain will throw off the same fingerprints as the natural brain. If it doesn't, our Mr. Smith will have to learn to speak all over again.
"When he was still communicative, Smith and I were able to get a vocabulary of about a hundred words working just off his brainwave activity. Now that he's hardwired, we should be able to achieve a conversational vocabulary over a matter of just a few days."
Smith heard typing and assumed that Bayron was pulling up the vocabulary list that he and Bayron had practiced many times before. He imaged Hermelinda standing behind him, peering over his shoulder at the monitor. Bayron would smell her very clearly if he was right and her smell would have made his heart soft. How could Bayron continue to lecture her about the technology? If I still had a body, Smith thought, I would have her in my arms and I'd be kissing her neck.
