Priestess of Paracas

by K Patrick Donoghue

  “It takes a little while for your senses to let go of what they experience,” Griffin said. “For me, the feeling of wet clay between my toes lasted a couple of days.”

  “A couple of days?” exclaimed Sanjay.

  “Yeah,” said Anlon. “Like I said earlier, the Munuorians included the sensory elements of their memories to make them stickier, so to speak. I guarantee the next time you hear ocean waves, the memory of meeting Malinyah will come back into your mind so vividly, it’ll feel like you’re with her all over again.”

  Sanjay sat up and asked Anlon to hand him the Sinethal. As he slowly examined it from all sides, he whispered, “Incredible.” After a stretch of quiet reflection, he looked back at Anlon. “Was the process to move Pebbles’ mind back into her brain the same, but in reverse? Tuning the hippocampus to upload instead of download?”

  “From what I understand, yes.”

  “Though I am struggling to accept this as real…a ten-thousand-year-old woman’s mind inside this slab…I am beginning to see how Pebbles’ brain might have been injured during the transfer of memories. For example, I find it impossible to believe that a flood of a person’s memories uploaded en masse could be handled by the hippocampus without repercussions.”

  “Agreed,” said Anlon. “I can’t imagine the hippocampus is capable of processing a deluge of memories in the same way it would with a normal inflow. At a minimum, it seems hard to believe the pieces of each reloaded memory would end up getting coded the same as they were when originally stored. As a result, I would think a lot of Pebbles’ memories are stored in different locations than they were before.”

  “One would also think there was potential for lost or incomplete memories. Or pieces of memories that were mixed up with pieces of unrelated memories,” Sanjay said.

  “Right,” Anlon said. “Then lump on to those possibilities the certainty that the coma damaged some of her brain tissue. Even if her hippocampus was able to accept the stream of returning memories without a problem, the coma-damaged tissues would have forced it to dump certain memories or scramble to find new storage locations.”

  After placing the Sinethal beside him on the couch, Sanjay sipped some more water. To Anlon, the look on Sanjay’s face implied he’d fully regained his composure and now his mind was working out the puzzle. Griffin must have felt the same way about Sanjay, for when Anlon looked his way, the rocker gave him a thumbs-up. Finally, Sanjay turned to Anlon and asked, “Other than the dreams, have you noticed anything else unusual about Pebbles? Does she seem forgetful? Does she have troubling speaking? Any personality differences? Unusual mood swings? New behaviors?”

  “Well, there are certainly differences,” Anlon said, “She definitely has more highs and lows, but I would expect that given what she endured. I wouldn’t say she’s forgetful…she doesn’t seem to me to struggle recalling things. She’s more distant than she used to be, but that comes and goes in spurts. The only behavior that’s notably different, aside from her dreams, is her ability to draw.”

  Sanjay perked up. “Oh?”

  “Yeah, you should see her pictures,” Griffin said. “They’re not run-of-the-mill sketches, no stick figures or doodles, but full-on, museum-quality, works of art.”

  Sanjay pressed Anlon for a more thorough explanation. “Are you saying that she has always drawn, but suddenly her skill level has risen? Or are you saying she never was much of an artist, but now is?”

  “I’ve only known her for a few years,” Anlon said, “but in that time she’s never picked up a pencil or pen to draw, not that I recall. But now? Holy crap, she’s freaking Van Gogh.”

  Sanjay stood. “Ah! Now we are talking!”

  “You’re thinking savant syndrome?” Anlon asked.

  “Yes, it is quite possible.” Sanjay began to pace. “Her hippocampus, it has opened new pathways in her brain to compensate for the damage inflicted by the coma.”

  “Or…to handle the flood of memories going out and then back into her brain,” Anlon added.

  “Or both,” Griffin said.

  “Almost assuredly both,” said Sanjay with a nod. He continued to pace. “How fascinating.”

  Within the first few days of Pebbles’ newfound artistic abilities, Anlon had suspected savant syndrome, a rare condition which can occur in people who have suffered brain injuries. Out of the blue, these people develop stunning new abilities. Some master music simply by listening to it. Others suddenly possess the ability to solve complex math equations in seconds or memorize entire volumes of texts with instant recall of every word. And some become exceptional artists, à la Pebbles.

  In the midst of his ruminations, Anlon was stirred back to the conversation by comments from the pacing Sanjay. “So, we have multiple clues pointing to an injury to Pebbles’ brain, most likely the hippocampus. And given she has developed a savant behavior, the temporal lobe must also have been affected.”

  Anlon concurred. Through his research on savant syndrome, he had discovered that brain scans of savants often revealed damage to the anterior temporal lobe…a part of the brain that sits directly atop the hippocampus…and a part of the brain that plays a pivotal role in storing memories.

  “Given she is also experiencing PTSD-like dreams,” Sanjay said, “it is likely her amygdala was injured as well.”

  This also rang true to Anlon. The amygdala, another brain structure that physically touches the hippocampus, is widely believed to be the place in the brain where emotional elements of memories are stored. Further, it is believed to be the part of the brain that governs the fight-or-flight response in humans…a key feature of Pebbles’ dreams. Sanjay’s back-of-the-envelope injury analysis created the perfect segue for Anlon to introduce an alternative theory for both Pebbles’ dreams and her savant artistry.

  “Sanjay, I agree with you that some combination of Pebbles’ hippocampus, amygdala and temporal lobe were likely affected by what happened to her, but I wonder if injury is the right word to describe what’s happened?”

  Anlon’s comment drew a puzzled look from Sanjay. He ceased pacing and sat down on the sofa. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, there’s another explanation for her dreams, her drawing ability, that we’ve been considering. It’s a stretch, to be sure, but it feels to us like it is within the realm of possibilities.” Anlon paused and tapped Malinyah’s Sinethal. “We’re wondering if there was more than one mind stored on the Sinethal used to store Pebbles’ memories.”

  “What? Why would you think that?” Sanjay first looked at Anlon and then turned to Griffin.

  “It has to do with her dreams,” Griffin said. “They’re more like trippy flashbacks than they are dreams.”

  Sanjay waved his hand dismissively. “That means nothing. Flashbacks are very common in PTSD patients.”

  “We know,” said Anlon, “but these flashbacks are unusual, Sanjay. They aren’t replays of anything that’s ever happened to Pebbles. In fact, they come across as someone else’s memories entirely.”

  CHAPTER 4: FRACTURED MIND

  Aboard Sol Seaker

  Kona Kai Marina, San Diego, California

  September 18

  As Jennifer reviewed Pebbles’ entry of her latest “cave” dream, she noticed a new detail — the mention of a poncho. To be certain she had not overlooked that in Pebbles’ previous recordings of cave-dream memories, Jennifer retrieved the other two journal volumes from the built-in bookcase beside the chair and scanned all six other cave-dream entries. The poncho did not appear in any of them. Jennifer’s further comparison of the entries yielded another new detail — the fungus used as kindling to light the torch.

  Jennifer made a mental note to discuss those two features with Pebbles when she woke from her nap. Turning her attention back to the collection of cave-dream entries, Jennifer found it curious there was no mention of a hand covering Pebbles’ mouth. Jennifer knew for a fact that no one had touched Pebbles’ face or mouth while they’d been trying to prevent her from
jumping over the upper deck railing, but Pebbles had been adamant that someone had.

  It seemed obvious to Jennifer that it must have occurred during the dream, but the lack of a reference to it in the entries suggested Pebbles did not believe it had happened in the dream. It was another topic Jennifer intended to explore with her once she awoke.

  The collaborative process, whether Pebbles discussed the dreams with Anlon or Jennifer or both of them, always produced new insights and, from what Jennifer could observe, the chat sessions also appeared to soothe Pebbles. In fact, on more than one occasion over the last three months, Pebbles had referred to the chats as her dream therapy.

  The weird part to Jennifer was that Pebbles’ entries were devoid of nonsensical scenes one typically experienced in dreams. Instead, Pebbles’ recollections of her dreams were coherent recitations that followed the same serial pattern every time. In this way, the entries struck Jennifer as retellings of memories rather than dreams. Jennifer recalled her first conversation with Anlon about this peculiarity.

  “I could understand it if she was reliving what happened to her in Tahoe or Mexico, but these dreams have no connection with getting shot or beaten or strangled.”

  “We don’t know that, Jen. They could be her brain’s way of coming to grips with what happened to her.”

  “Yeah, I hear you. But I’m telling you, the police detective in me sees these dreams differently. When I read the entries, when I hear her verbally walk through them, they feel like witness statements to me.”

  Anlon had not bought into Jennifer’s theory, but as the chats continued, Jennifer began to subtly introduce questioning techniques she had used as a detective to stimulate recall of crime scene details from eyewitnesses.

  In some questions, Jennifer focused on sensations rather than events. Questions like: Is the water cold or warm? How heavy is your bag? What color is it? Do you hear anything in the trees around you? Does the cave have a musty odor?

  A separate technique Jennifer employed involved asking Pebbles to begin reciting her memories of the dreams at different points in the dreams. For the cave dream, Jennifer had in the past asked Pebbles to start the story at the point she lit the torch, or as she descended beneath the rocky overhang.

  On other occasions, she would ask Pebbles to imagine herself as one of the pursuers and recount the dreams from the pursuer’s perspective.

  Sometimes Jennifer would plant false cues to elicit new details. For example, in one dream, Pebbles was being chased through the halls of a temple. As Pebbles recounted a portion of the tale where she dashed down a stone staircase, Jennifer had interrupted to ask her why she ran down the stairs instead of taking the door to her right.

  “There’s no door to the right. It’s a stone wall with a huge mural on it.”

  “What’s the mural of?”

  “A naval battle.”

  “Are we talking modern ships?”

  “No…dudes with spears and arrows.”

  While these methods did not produce “aha” breakthroughs in interpreting the dreams, they did produce a litany of new details to add to Pebbles’ journal entries. And each time they discussed the new details gleaned from the questioning, fresh nuances began to appear in future iterations of the dreams, which seemed to spark further details from Pebbles in her next entries.

  Such was the case with the poncho. In a previous retelling of the cave dream, Jennifer had asked Pebbles what she was wearing in the dream.

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’s nighttime, right?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “And you’re going up a mountain.”

  “That’s right. There’s a series of switchbacks.”

  “And there are guys chasing you.”

  “Well, I’d say they’re more following me than chasing me. They’re being real quiet, kind of slinking along.”

  “You mean like they don’t want you to know they’re following you?”

  “Yes. Exactly.”

  “So how can you tell where they are?”

  “I can hear them above the wind. They keep knocking rocks over the edge.”

  “Ah. So, there’s a lot of wind?”

  “Yep.”

  “Must be pretty cold. Mountaintops usually are, especially at night. Especially when it’s windy.”

  “You’re not kidding. In the dream, my legs are freezing.”

  “You remember that?”

  “Uh huh. I remember bending down to warm them up.”

  The Q&A had produced no further insights on that occasion, but Pebbles had noted in today’s entry that she was wearing a poncho. Within a sentence of mentioning the garment, Pebbles revealed the use of fungus to light the torch. One new detail had led to another.

  As more details emerged through their chats, Pebbles began to amend her journal entries. Whether in the form of new text scribbled in the margins, crossed-out sections in the body of the entries, or new paragraphs appended to the end of each recording, the books began to take on the appearance of heavily edited manuscripts rather than volumes of a diary. And each successive volume contained more edits.

  Then, out of nowhere, Pebbles began to doodle in the journals. She couldn’t explain why or what had precipitated the new additions. She claimed she had never been much of an artist, or the type to express herself through drawing. But one would never have known that by looking at her illustrations in the three journals.

  As Jennifer flipped through the pages of volume three, she was amazed at how elaborate Pebbles’ illustrations had become. And much like her edits, the drawings increased in number with each new volume.

  In fact, Pebbles now had two separate sketchbooks in which she drew pictures too large to fit on the pages of her composition-book-sized journals. Drawn with colored pencils, the sketchbooks were filled with stunning images. There were depictions of trees, birds and animals as well as various landscape scenes, some of mountains, others of forests, a few with deserts or rivers and even a couple of caverns or caves. There were also pages and pages of architectural structures that ranged from stone temples to fortresses to mud huts.

  The most bizarre aspect to Jennifer? If you asked Pebbles to draw something, like a boat in the marina or a seagull perched on the pier, she could not do it. If you directly asked her to illustrate something she had experienced in one of her dreams, she was similarly incapable of rendering a coherent image.

  But let her stretch out on the sofa on Sol Seaker’s upper deck patio, smoothie by her side, pencil in her hand and sketch pad on her lap, and she morphed into Van Gogh.

  It seemed obvious to Jennifer and Anlon — as well as Pebbles — that the drawings were depictions of elements from Pebbles’ dreams, but they did not depict the dreams themselves. For instance, one could not point to her sketch of a snake coiled on a mountain trail and ask Pebbles how it fit into her recurring dream of hiking up a mountain in the dark while shadowy figures below pursued her. In fact, she would tell you she could not recall the snake ever appearing in the dream.

  And while the drawings contained fanciful styling and colors similar to that found in paintings created by Van Gogh, they did not contain fanciful content. In other words, there were not any pictures of pink unicorns flying over rainbows while cherubs followed behind on Harleys with cigars hanging out of their mouths. Pebbles’ drawings were of ordinary objects and landscapes, yet they looked anything but ordinary.

  Jennifer closed the journal and peeked through the blinds at the seagulls floating over the marina. She was convinced Pebbles’ drawings were clues as important as the words written in her journals. It was as if there was a part of Pebbles’ subconscious that was not satisfied with her written recollections and was either trying to supplement her journal entries or call Pebbles’ attention to details she’d overlooked.

  Sanjay’s residence

  Sedona, Arizona

  Anlon devoted nearly thirty minutes to describing Pebbles’ recurring dreams. During the overview, Sanjay t
ook copious notes, stopping Anlon on several occasions to ask questions. When Anlon finished, Sanjay summarized the overview.

  “So, you say she has a half-dozen different dreams that repeat at random. Most of them involve fleeing from other people, but there are a couple in which she is not pursued by others. In the dreams where she is chased, she carries a bag with something inside. You say Pebbles believes the woman is protecting the bag from those pursuing her. But in the other dreams, the ones in which she is not pursued by others, she desperately searches for something. The bag is present in these visions, but it is empty.

  “In all of the dreams, her pursuers are never clearly seen, the objects of her search and protection never revealed. The dreams occur in specific locations: two in a jungle, another in a temple, the others on a mountain, in the desert and on a river. These dreams sometimes occur at night when she is asleep, but other times they occur during the day, while she is awake. When the daytime dreams happen, she goes into a trance. Over the past few weeks, the frequency of the daytime dreams has increased a noticeable amount.”

  Anlon nodded. “That’s a pretty good recap, but you left out something I said at the beginning. For the first two months after her mind was reunited with her body, she had nightmares that were literal flashbacks of things that happened during her kidnapping. She wouldn’t talk about them and they eventually faded. Everything seemed fine for another six months.”

  “Right,” Sanjay interjected. “Then, about three months ago, you said the new dreams started surfacing, but only at night. The daydreams began within the last month, and they are the most concerning to you because when she goes into these trances, she gets physical. She fights and tries to run. You are worried she is going to hurt herself.”

  “Correct,” Anlon said. “I had hoped the new dreams would fade like the ones she had right after her coma, but the situation has gone in the opposite direction.”

  “I am sure that is very troubling, to you and Pebbles.” Sanjay set down his notepad and sat back, apparently collecting his thoughts. After a stretch of silence, he said, “As you suggested, Anlon, there are many curiosities about Pebbles’ dreams. Some elements are very common among PTSD patients and suggest a brain injury, but there are other aspects which are unusual. For example, in some ways, Pebbles’ trances sound like the type of behavior we see in patients who experience flashbacks.”