Fixer 13
Page 8
Chapter 8: The Connectome Scan
In the early 21st century, scientists began to explore the connections within the human brain. Unlike the mapping of the human genome—which was initially seen as an almost impossible task but took only 13 years to complete (two years less than predicted)—the connectome was much more complex. It’s complexity surpassed all predictions and the scientists were unable to reach any absolute conclusion. Much was discovered and mapped, but since the brain was such a dynamic organ, filled with complexity upon complexity—especially concerning the connections within the frontal lobe—scientists were still filling storage pits with xonabytes (1027) of data.
Jayne woke, feeling a little thick-headed. She didn’t mention it to Lucky because that generally resulted in the AIU putting something in her food to make her feel better. He never asked if she would like this drug or that. Lucky just followed his programming. It seemed as if he was really paranoid about her health. Sometimes the drugs he gave her made her feel a little dopey.
Today was the first day of practical TEM and she knew that she must keep her mind sharp. She shook off the last of her thick-headedness as she walked to the PUT pad, thinking about how cool her first day was going to be. She was on her way to becoming a real Technical Electrical Mechanical Fixer.
When she reached her destination, she stepped off the PUT pad, and followed the green arrow as it directed her past a series of doors, finally stopping in front of a door with a sign that read ‘Professor Greenway’.
Jayne couldn’t see a scanlock or video lock of any kind. There was just an old-fashioned doorknob. Jayne assumed that the knob turned a latching mechanism that would allow her access to the room beyond. Turning the knob, the door opened for her and she stopped just inside the room, leaving the door open behind her. She found herself inside a combination of an office and a laboratory. There was a desk in the corner, piled high with sheets of white material covered with text. More pieces of the same material were stacked on a series of shelves and even more were piled haphazardly in the corner. She identified the sheets as printed paper and books. She had seen pictures of books in the past, but she had never seen a real one up close. There were countless books in this space; more than she could have imagined existed in the whole world. Humans stopped printing books almost 70 years ago, and yet this office was filled with them. Jayne’s eyes scanned the rest of the room, coming to a stop when she saw a man standing with his back to her, leaning over a magnavid, staring intently at some multi-colored blobs on the screen before him.
Jayne cleared her throat, trying to get his attention, but the man ignored her.
Annoyed, she spoke loudly, “Excuse me.”
The man continued to stare at the magnavid. He twisted a knob and the view altered. He didn’t turn around.
Stepping further into the room, Jayne repeated herself, “Excuse me.”
No response came from the man. Finally, she stepped closer, about to tap the man on the back when he straightened, reached behind his ear, and touched his skull. Apparently he was listening to something and had just turned it off.
As he turned around, he found himself face-to-face with Jayne.
A surprised “Oh!” escaped from both their lips. Jayne took a step back.
“Who are you?” asked the man who Jayne assumed must be the Professor Greenway named on the door.
“Thirteen,” said Jayne.
“No, no. Not your HUB number, your birth number,” he said with irritation.
“Oh,” Jayne hesitated. “My number is 302875106592253.”
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“I have no idea. This is my first day of Practical TEM. The green arrow directed me here,” she said, “so here I am.”
“Yes, well, close the door and I’ll figure this out,” he said and he picked up his VID. “Give me your birth number again.” Jayne repeated her number and the man keyed it into his VID. After a moment, he spoke again. “Mmmm, that is odd.”
“What?” Jayne asked.
“Nothing, really. I guess they’ve decided to be a little more thorough with you. They want the usual—fluid extraction, deep retinal scan and a skin biopsy. They also want a partial connectome scan. Now that is very unusual,” he mused.
“What’s a connectome scan? What are you scanning?” Jayne asked apprehensively.
“Don’t worry. It’ll hurt far less than the skin biopsy. It just takes a little longer,” he said. “Now sit here and roll up one sleeve.” He gestured to a chair at the end of one of the lab benches.
Jayne sat down and rolled up her sleeve. Professor Greenway took some blood and scraped the inside of her cheek to retrieve skin cells. “Now, I want you to relax. This always works best when you are relaxed. Conscious thought and dreaming can affect the results. Here, drink this,” he said as he handed her a small paper cup with a pink liquid in it. “It’s sweet with a cherry flavor.”
“What are you going to scan?” asked Jayne.
“Your brain. More specifically, a small section of your frontal lobe. That’s right behind your forehead,” he said, tapping her with his finger. “It won’t hurt a bit, but it will take a few hours to complete. There are a lot of data connections in there, and they keep changing. This connectome scan will mark the static connections that are established and try to determine the pattern of the dynamic ones. Nothing for you to worry about,” he said as he smiled condescendingly down at her. “Drink up.”
Jayne drank the liquid and made a face at the foul taste. Professor Greenway took a circular strap, placing it around her head before attaching two devices to it. He stepped over to the large VID and adjusted some settings.
“The thingies on that band around my head are moving,” said Jayne. “One of them is caught on my hair.”
“Oh,” Professor Greenway attempted to free her hair from the scanning device but it was caught on the chain that held the silver star around her neck. He lifted the chain, pulling the silver star into view. “Oh my,” he whispered, sucking in his breath. He dropped the chain as if it were going to bite him, and his demeanor changed so that he was even more all-business than before. “This will take a while, so relax. Go to sleep. It will be over when you wake. I have other important things to attend to, and I must go. A lab tech will remove the apparatus and send you on your way when the test is complete.”
“How long?” asked Jayne.
“I don’t have time to answer your silly questions,” he snapped back at her. He glanced back at the star hanging in full view on Jayne’s chest. Jayne saw fear in his eyes. “I must go.” He turned and left the room.
Jayne reached up, grasping the silver star between her fingers. It seemed to grow warmer in her hand. Closing her eyes, she soon drifted off to sleep.
She didn’t dream, but woke suddenly. Opening her eyes, she found herself alone in the now dimly lit lab. Her head was pounding; her stomach was growling and she needed to pee very badly. The devices on her forehead were humming and occasionally moved. Jayne tried to sit up, but quickly realized that she was restrained with metal clamps at her wrists, elbows, knees, ankles, neck and head. She couldn’t move even if she tried.
Suddenly, a blue flashing light filled the dim room, followed by a warning klaxon. Jayne was starting to panic, but just as suddenly, the flashing lights and alarm stopped. A woman, wearing a white coat with a stethoscope around her neck, entered the lab and smiled at her.
“I guess you’re done. I’ll get you out of those restraints. Sorry, I usually have them off before the patient wakes up, but when I checked you after two hours you weren’t finished,” she said to Jayne.
“I have to go to the bathroom very badly,” said Jayne.
“Won’t be a moment,” the woman said, undoing the clamps, and gesturing at a door. “The bathroom is through there.”
Jayne went quickly to the bathroom and, when she returned, she found the woman putting the strap and scanning devices away in a cabinet. “How long have I been here?” sh
e asked.
“Let’s see,” the woman said, looking at the VID, “a little over six hours. That’s odd. That’s really long for this test. It usually takes less than two hours.”
“I’ve been here for six hours!” exclaimed Jayne incredulously. “I feels like only a few minutes have passed, except for the fact that I’m starving.”
“Yeah, this test can be like that. You can go now,” said the woman, walking to the door. “I have to close up the lab.”
Jayne followed and quickly found herself alone in the hallway. She was a little disoriented and her stomach was growling. She looked down at the floor, but found no green directional arrow to show her the way. She walked a dozen steps to her left, but found nothing that resembled the entrance to the PUT pads.
There was a different sort of door in front of her. There was a small window in the door just above her head and a hand scanlock just below the window. She placed her hand on the lock. Nothing happened. She jumped up, trying to see through the window, in an effort to see if this was the PUT pad room. A series of fleeting glances, from repeatedly jumping up and looking through the small window, only revealed a dark room with more chairs like the one she used for her connectome scan. These chairs were different only in that the straps and steel bands were already attached to the chairs. Jayne guessed they were designed to keep the occupant prisoner. She shivered.
On her fifth jump, a voice boomed out behind her. “Who are you and what are you doing?”
She turned to see a security guard standing at the other end of the hall.
“I’m just looking for the PUT pad room. I just came from Professor Greenway’s lab, and there are no arrows to show me where to go.”
“Well, it’s not that way. It’s right down there,” he said, pointing at a door at the other end of the long hallway.
“Thanks,” she said and she walked down the hall, past the guard and onto a PUT pad. A moment later she was at her own door which opened as soon as she approached it.
“Come in, Thirteen. I have made you something to eat. There is an analgesic for your headache on the table.”
“How did you know?” asked Jayne.
“I know how grueling a first day in Practical TEM can be,” Lucky replied.
“But I…” she started to reply but stopped. For some reason, she felt that keeping a few secrets from Lucky wouldn’t be a bad thing. “Yes, thank you, it was a tough day.”
“I know—it will get easier. Something to eat and a good sleep will do you wonders,” said Lucky.
Jayne sat and ate, and moments later was fast asleep.