by A J Rushby
I watch Steen, my heart in my mouth, waiting for what he’s going to say next.
But his eyes don’t meet mine again. ‘I’ve … I’ve got to go,’ he mumbles. ‘The truth is, I can’t be around you right now.’
EIGHTY-SIX HOURS AWAKE
I skip breakfast after my next round of testing ends around six in the morning and ask Thing One to grab me a couple of pieces of fruit and some sandwiches during the break. All I want to do is hide out. At least my tremor has stopped. And my results have risen twelve per cent. The different combination of drugs seems to be working. That’s something. Though whether I’ll be able to continue with my experiment at all is undoubtedly in the balance. Maybe they’ll have to shut everyone’s experiments down because of what’s gone on in the fifth room.
I guess we’ll find out soon enough.
During my three-hour break, I read and even go for a jog on the treadmill for a while, music loud in my headphones in the hope of not thinking about my argument with Steen. I take a long shower to waste another half an hour, then get dressed in a fresh set of green scrubs and sit on my bed staring mindlessly at my hand. The one that Steen held. And by the time my three hours are up, nothing more has happened. Marcus hasn’t stopped by or called any kind of meeting.
I start in on another round of testing.
More time passes.
Yet another round of testing with no perceivable dip in results.
Around and around and around we go.
I’m over halfway through my tests when Marcus stops by. He looks tired. There are dark shadows under his eyes and a grim expression on his face. ‘There’ll be a meeting in the dining room at eight o’clock this evening.’
‘I’ll be there,’ I tell him, trying to gauge what’s going on, but he doesn’t give anything away.
Thing Two grabs me some more sandwiches and I continue to hide out until exactly eight o’clock, when I make my way to the dining room. As I enter, I see everyone else is already there. Marcus sits at the head of the table—Lauren on one side of him and Steen on the other. Andrew is next to Steen, so I take the chair beside Lauren. I note that Andrew doesn’t have the camera on his head again and I wonder if his experiment has stalled. As for how Lauren’s is going, I’m unsure. With her arm always in a sling outside of her lab, it’s hard to tell. The pump on its stand is beside her though, so she’s definitely continuing with her experiment if her arm is still anaesthetised. And then there’s Steen. Sitting diagonally across from him, I can’t help but notice he looks decidedly sweaty and pale again. He’s definitely getting worse rather than better. I try to catch his eye, but he avoids looking at me. In fact he looks anywhere but at me.
‘Now we’re all here,’ Marcus begins, ‘I’m sorry to have to tell you that the Society hasn’t been entirely truthful with you. There has been a fifth student experimenting in lab five all along. The lab was not being renovated as we discussed. Now this student has had a stroke.’
There’s a collective gasp around the table.
‘Due to his research?’ Lauren asks.
‘I’m not at liberty to discuss that. All I can say is that his was a risky experiment. He believed he would be successful at the outset and he was not.’
‘But is he all right?’ I say. ‘Is he going to recover?’ I remind myself not to use his name. I don’t know this person. I don’t know anything about him.
Marcus takes a deep breath. ‘No. No, it doesn’t look like it.’
I cover my mouth with my hand.
‘I don’t understand why this was kept a secret.’ Steen’s voice has a hard edge to it. ‘We’re all involved in risky experimentation in one way or another.’
‘The student didn’t want to be identified in any way possible.’
I don’t believe him for a second. This is Ryan all over. Most likely whatever was going on in there was something that should never have been allowed. Not even by the Society.
My eyes move over to see if Steen’s thinking the same thing. But he doesn’t glance up from the spot that he’s staring at on the table top.
‘This won’t affect our own experimentation, will it?’ Of course it’s Lauren who asks this question.
‘We’ve been discussing this and looking over some details. The five of us will have another meeting first thing in the morning. This meeting is simply to let you know the basics of what’s happened. For now, however, we will continue on as normal. I’ll be able to answer any other questions at the next meeting.’ He stands and the four of us stand with him. We watch him silently as he leaves the room.
We stare at each other for a moment until, abruptly, Steen turns on his heel and exits the room. He’s halfway down the corridor to his lab before I catch up with him.
‘Steen,’ I say, ‘wait.’
But he doesn’t wait. Instead he swipes his card, enters his lab and I’m left standing in the corridor. Alone.
I’d wanted to ask him about Marcus. Back there … I don’t know … he’d seemed kind of removed when he spoke about Ryan. As if he hadn’t been a part of what happened. As if he’d honestly believed the room was being renovated. I think again about his not having access to Ryan’s lab when the emergency alert sounded. None of it makes sense. If the Society doesn’t trust Marcus, who do they trust? Who’s watching us behind those cameras and making all the decisions? I so wish I could call my dad.
I consider going back to the meals area and Andrew and Lauren. But there’s nothing to discuss other than why this was hidden from us and what’s really going on. Not wanting to have that conversation again.
I swipe my own card and go back to my bedroom, where I lie on my bed. I stare at the now very familiar-looking ceiling and wait for yet another round of testing to begin. After some time I feel the tears rolling silently out of the corners of my eyes.
It’s just after five the next morning and I’ve almost finished my second hour of testing when Marcus appears at the door once more.
‘We’ll meet again in an hour from now if that works for you,’ he says.
‘Okay,’ I tell him from the treadmill, trying not to freak out that my results are down three per cent this round. Am I just distracted, or am I going downhill again? I don’t know.
‘Good. Because I have some very important news,’ he answers cryptically.
Somehow we end up sitting in the same places around the table again, though this time we’re all leaning forward in anticipation of what Marcus is about to say. Will he tell us that our experiments are over? That we need to leave?
Marcus takes a deep breath before he begins. I watch him closely. His demeanour has changed again and he suddenly looks far less detached and instead incredibly nervous, fidgeting with his pen on the table. ‘I can now tell you that the fifth student has been declared brain dead by a neurologist and an intensivist. His body, however, remains on life support.’
There’s no gasp this time. Only loaded silence. Ryan is truly gone. Brain dead.
The one thing I don’t understand though—why the life support? Are they going to bring his family down here? Surely they couldn’t, or wouldn’t, do that? But before anyone can ask the hundreds of questions that are swirling in all our heads, Marcus speaks again.
‘The reason it’s taken so long to get back to you is because there’s been much discussion with the board about what I’m going to say now. The Society has an offer to make to you. However, before I make this offer, I’ll run through the conditions involved. And there are a few.’
The four of us look at each other in silence, our faces expressionless with shock. The room feels so quiet that I half expect to hear our four throbbing heartbeats picking up pace with every second that passes.
‘You will stay completely silent while I make the offer,’ Marcus continues. ‘After I make this offer, you will return to your labs, where you will remain for two hours while you consider it. Then we will reconvene and you will give me your answer. During this two-hour period, I will come and speak to you
individually to answer any queries you might have. Do you understand these conditions?’
Each of us nods.
‘All right, then.’ Marcus pauses, shifting in his seat before he begins. ‘The offer is as follows: as I have just told you, the fifth student has been declared brain dead and is on life support. Naturally, his body will be returned in due course to his family. However, in the interim, the Society would like to offer his body to you for the purposes of experimentation.’
ONE HUNDRED AND TEN HOURS AWAKE
It takes a moment or two for the words to sink into my head.
His body. We can use Ryan’s body for experimentation.
Before I can process this properly, Marcus continues.
‘This is not an offer that has been made by the Society before, or is likely to be made again. If you choose to participate in this experimentation, you may either continue with your own experimentation as well, or drop your experiment entirely in order to utilise this opportunity fully. Of course, you may also choose to continue on solely with your own experiment. The choice is entirely yours to make.’ Marcus stands. ‘If you could return to your labs now, we’ll meet back here in just over two hours at eight o’clock. I’ll arrange to have your breakfast brought to you in your room.’ He gets up and goes over to stand next to the door, waiting for us to leave.
But I can’t move.
Can’t move.
I stare at the table, at my hands, clasped before me. And I’m not sure how long I sit there like that, but when I look up, Steen is the first person I seek out.
But he’s already gone.
I didn’t even hear him leave.
Both Andrew and Lauren are still sitting in their places. I go to open my mouth and then remember we’re not supposed to discuss this. So I stand and fumble with my chair, pushing it back. Without saying anything, I leave the room, passing Marcus. I go back down the corridor towards my lab.
Steen is nowhere in sight.
I enter my lab, crossing over to my bedroom.
And there, I lie down on the bed, pull my pillow over my head and scream.
It takes me a while to surface. To come out of hiding from under the pillow. To be able to even consider putting my thoughts together. It’s just … I can’t believe what I’ve heard.
I sit up and hug my pillow to my stomach, Marcus’s words ringing inside my head. Brain dead. Body. Offer. Experimentation.
Ryan’s brain. Ryan’s body.
I don’t know what to think. How to feel about this. And yet I have to come up with an answer within two hours.
What am I going to do?
What am I going to say?
Okay, okay … I need to be logical about this.
I force myself to take a couple of deep breaths and to concentrate.
When I’m slightly calmer, I ask myself what my first reaction had been. What had I first thought when Marcus had made his offer?
All I can remember is being absolutely stunned. Frozen to the spot. But then I remember another thought that had run through my head.
That isn’t self-experimentation.
Yes, I remember that thought coming through loud and clear. I remember looking at Marcus and thinking. That isn’t self-experimentation. That’s not what this is supposed to be about.
But so what? A first thought is a basic reaction. It can often be emotional. Not something based on a rational argument.
I think about Ryan himself then. It’s his body, after all. What would he want? What would he do if he was in my place? I roll my eyes. If it had been me declared brain dead and Ryan was sitting here in my position, he wouldn’t hesitate at all, I bet. He would have spoken right up in the meals room back there and asked when he could start. And he would have been disappointed if it wasn’t immediately. But that’s Ryan. The last thing I should do is consider what he’d do—Ryan would experiment on his own grandmother. And he probably wouldn’t even wait until she’d been declared brain dead either.
I feel as if I’m being pulled under a sea of thoughts. Before I drown in them, I need to start a list in my head to keep me afloat. I need to go over all the arguments for and all the arguments against experimenting on Ryan’s body.
Pros
An amazing opportunity to learn
Can further my career faster/get noticed
Will never be offered an opportunity like this again
Might not be able to discuss the research in public, but it could help further any other research I do
He’s brain dead—whatever I do can’t hurt him
He would agree to this if he had the ability
It’s a free pass to do anything I like (what happens in the bunker stays in the bunker).
Cons
It’s unethical—Ryan hasn’t consented to this in any way
If I’m found out, no college or university will ever want me again
It’s a backward step for society as a whole
The Society (and I) are depriving him of being an organ donor, which I’m sure he is.
It’s so hard to stay on track as different thoughts keep jumping out at me, jostling for attention in my mind. The thing is, there are so many factors to consider that the moment I try to pause to consider one of them, yet another enters my mind. And another. And another.
Something else I’m worried about—if I say no, what will the Society think about my answer? Will that leave some kind of black mark against my name? What if I’m not asked back to experiment? What if this is some kind of test?
And something else: even if I wanted to say yes to experimenting on Ryan, what would I do? What would my experiment be? There’s no benefit to my current research. I’d have to start a completely new research project and the only other feasible area that it could be in—the only one I know as much about—is infectious diseases. My mother’s specialty. Ryan’s interest area.
I put my head in my hands then. Karma. That’s what this is. Research karma. I recall Ryan’s issues with informed consent—they’ve come back to haunt him in the worst possible way.
A knock on my lab door sees me raise my head. ‘Come in!’ I yell out, getting up from my bed and entering the lab area.
The door opens and Marcus enters.
He walks on over and pulls together two chairs from different parts of the room.
‘Miri,’ he says, gesturing towards one of the chairs. ‘Please, take a seat.’
With a gulp, I do so. Marcus sits as well.
‘So, questions? I know it’s a lot to ask to make such a decision quickly, but we don’t have that much time, I’m afraid.’
I nod.
‘Anything you’d like to ask?’
I take a deep breath. ‘I suppose the main thing I want to ask is about how this obviously deviates from the Society’s original purpose, which is self-experimentation.’
Marcus watches me closely and waits for me to add to this. But I don’t.
‘It isn’t self-experimentation, of course, but the Society does believe it is in the spirit of self-experimentation.’
‘So you’re saying it’s what this student wanted?’ I’m hoping Ryan had some sort of special conditions attached to his obviously dangerous experiment, or that he’d discussed possible complications with someone.
Marcus pauses, considering his words carefully. ‘It was never discussed.’
‘It’s just … well, I don’t see it as the same as having decided to leave your body to science. If there’s been no agreement.’ I come back to the informed consent issue I’d been thinking about only moments before. This offer of the Society’s is incredibly different from such a situation. It’s hidden away. Secretive. However I feel about Ryan, his family are being denied the opportunity to see him and undoubtedly won’t be here when his life support is switched off. To me, experimenting on him seems … callous. Opportunistic. It’s like the slippery slope argument with euthanasia. You start with physician-assisted suicide and before you know it, you’re euthanising psychiatr
ic patients and putting posters up about racial health. Likewise, today it’s Ryan’s body we’re experimenting on and tomorrow we’re shipping people in from third world countries and giving their relatives wads of cash.
What it comes down to is this: if the Society is okay with this, what else is it okay with? Where will they stop? And who will stop them?
I take a deep breath. ‘That day in the hotel boardroom. You used the term “self-experiment” over and over again. But this isn’t self-experimentation, Marcus. It’s not what the Society’s supposed to be about. It’s not what I signed up for.’
Marcus simply stares at me. I try to work out if he’s attempting to sway me either way, but I can’t tell.
‘What do you think?’ I blurt out suddenly. ‘You must have an opinion.’
I catch the look on his face just before he replies. He might not think it’s right, but he’s not willing to do anything about it. ‘I’m not entitled to an opinion. I’m here only to facilitate yours.’
‘You must have an opinion about what you’d do if you were in my shoes.’ I lean forward. ‘You must!’
‘Do you have any other questions?’ Marcus says, shifting on his seat uncomfortably.
I can see I’m not going to get anything out of him. He’s obviously been given strict instructions to have us make this decision on our own. ‘No,’ I end up saying, but then I suddenly don’t feel so good and have to rest my elbows on my knees.
‘Miri, are you feeling all right?’ Marcus asks.
‘I’m fine,’ I snap. Like anyone here would truly care if I wasn’t. I push up again. But as I do so, I notice both my hands tremoring.
Oh, great.
Marcus stands. ‘You don’t need to give me your answer now. You have almost another full hour to think about it. And I want to assure you that whatever you decide to do, there will be no repercussions either way. There is no right choice. Only the choice that is right for you.’
Staring at him, I stand as well. I don’t believe him. I’m starting to get the feeling the Society says a lot of things and then does exactly as it pleases.
