Pandora's Brain

by Calum Chace

  ‘Trying to wake up?’ Leo suggested.

  ‘Exactly,’ agreed Vic. ‘His sub-conscious mind – or part of it – may be trying to achieve full consciousness.’

  ‘Mmmmmmm . . . Eeeeeeee . . . Zhhhh . . . Fee Fi Fo Fum. I smell the blood . . . The blood . . . The blood.’

  ‘Matt, hello. This is Dad. Can you hear me, Son?’

  ‘Mmmmmmm . . . Eeeeeeee . . . Zhhhh . . . Heellllooooo . . . ‘Mmmmmmm . . . Eeeeeeee . . . Zhhhh . . . Daaaad . . . Mmmuuuummmm . . .. Zhhhh.’

  ‘Well, at least this is better than last time!’ said Vic, placing a finger on the microphone’s mute button. ‘This could work! Why don’t you two keep talking to him. It might help him find his way to the surface.’

  David and Sophie took it in turns to talk, trying to coax Matt back to the world. Slowly – painfully slowly – the snatches of murmurings became longer and more recognisable. Vic suggested that they read to Matt, or recite some poetry: anything to keep exposing him to sentences spoken by his parents. David recited some verses of the Jabberwocky, a poem which Matt had loved hearing him read when he was small. Matt responded sleepily.

  ‘Mmmmimmmsyyyy . . . Borrrrrow-grove . . . Mmmooo-mmme rrraaath . . . Vooorrrrpaaaallll.’

  There was a pause, and then the voice picked up tempo and energy alarmingly:

  ‘Snicker-snack, snicker-snack, snicker-snack, snicker-snack, snicker-snack, snicker-snack, snicker-snack, snicker-snack, snicker-snack, snicker-snack, snicker-snack. Gallumph gallumph, my beamish boy! Gallumph gallumph. Gallumph gallumph. Gallumph gallumph. Gallumph gallumph. Callooh! Callay! Callooh! Callay! Callooh! Callay! Callooh! Callay! Callooh! Callay!’

  ‘Matt!’ shouted Sophie, worried that Matt was spinning into a dangerous loop. ‘Can you hear us? How do you feel? It’s so wonderful to hear you!’

  The voice fell silent for a moment. And then it spoke again, with an apparent clarity which took Sophie’s breath away.

  ‘Mum? Is that you? Where am I? It’s dark here. Are you here? Where am I?’

  Sophie and David stared at each other, their eyes widening in glee. The voice was a remarkably true approximation to Matt’s. Their son was back!

  David used the form of words they had worked out and agreed with Dr Humbert.

  ‘Matt, it’s me: Dad. You’re safe! You’re in a special treatment facility. We’re here with you: me, your mum, Leo, and a lot of other friends. Do you remember anything about what happened to you?’

  ‘Dad? Why can’t I see you? Am I on life support? Am I blind? Oh god, that’s it: I’m blind, aren’t I!’

  ‘No, Matt, you’re not blind,’ David reassured him. ‘But you are in recovery. There was an accident, but everything is going to be okay. Your mum and I are here, and we’re going to stay here, and there are lots of other friends here to help you. It’s going to be okay. I promise.’

  ‘What do you mean, a treatment facility, Dad? Am I in a hospital? Oh god, I remember. I remember now. I was shot, wasn’t I? How long have I been unconscious? Will I recover . . . fully? Will I be okay again?’

  ‘Yes you will, Matt; yes you will. That’s why your mum and Leo and I are here, and these other friends too. We’re going to make sure you get completely better. How do you feel? Apart from it being dark?’

  ‘I feel fine, I suppose. The dark is really black, though. I can’t remember anything as black as this before. And I can’t feel anything either. It’s as if I’m floating. In space. What’s going on, Dad? This feels really weird.’

  David, Sophie and Vic were exchanging glances as this conversation unfolded. The moment was delicate, as if Matt was a potential suicide who had to be talked down from a ledge.

  ‘It’s going to be okay, Matt,’ Sophie said. ‘It’s going to feel weird for a while, I’m afraid, but the doctors say you’re going to make a full recovery. Keep talking to us but don’t try to do anything physical, okay?’

  ‘OK,’ said Matt doubtfully. ‘So what happened? How badly am I injured?’

  ‘You were badly injured, son.’ David replied, ‘You were in a coma for a long time, and it’s going to take a while before you get back to normal. But the doctors say you’re doing really well.’

  ‘It’s a miracle, darling,’ added Sophie. ‘I can’t tell you how relieved we all are to have you back.’

  ‘So how long was I out? And why can’t I feel anything?’

  *

  It was another fifteen minutes before David and Sophie felt it was safe to tell Matt the truth. In the meantime they nursed him with reassurance and love. His voice became more stable, and the flashes of panic became less frequent. Eventually they felt he was ready to learn the reality of his situation.

  ‘There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there? Why can’t you tell me the truth?’

  David gave Sophie an enquiring look and Sophie nodded her assent to his unspoken question.

  ‘It’s true; there is something important that you need to know,’ David agreed. ‘It’s a good thing, Matt – really it is. We’re very excited about it, your mother and I. But it may be a little hard to hear. Do you think you’re ready?’

  ‘Yes, I think so. You say it’s a good thing?’

  ‘Yes I do. It’s complicated, but yes, it really is a wonderful thing. But it’s going to come as a bit of a shock. Are you ready?’

  ‘Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. And I don’t think I can’t take much more suspense.’

  ‘OK well here it is. You’ve been uploaded, Matt.’ David paused for a moment to listen for a reaction. When none was forthcoming, he continued. ‘Your mind is inside a computer. Everything is working fine, and we should be able to give you vision and all sorts of other senses and peripherals soon.’

  Still Matt made no response. David and Sophie exchanged worried glances.

  ‘How do you feel about this, Matt?’ Sophie asked nervously. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Er, yeah,’ Matt replied, distantly. Then after a pause, more focused. ‘That’s a bit of a mind fuck, actually. I don’t know how I feel about it, to be honest. Where am I?’

  ‘You’re in a supercomputer in Vic’s lab, at the site of the new US Embassy in Battersea. We’re in the control room next door. Leo is here, and Vic, of course, and Norman, and a room full of wonderful scientists who have made all this possible. It’s going to be OK. I promise.’

  ‘Yeah. Yeah, I see,’ Matt said, sounding distant again. ‘So what happened? I died, right? And then you uploaded me? How long did it take? How did you do it? I thought the technology wasn’t ready yet.’

  ‘Hi Matt, this is Vic. We made some great advances thanks to what we learned from Ivan. Thanks to you, in fact. That’s what made this possible. It’s great to have you back, Matt.’

  Matt still sounded flat. ‘Yeah. Right. Hi Vic. Um, and hi everyone else. Um, this is going to take a while to get used to.’

  ‘That’s entirely understandable, Matt,’ said David. ‘You can take all the time you want. We’re not going anywhere.’

  ‘No.’ Matt paused for a moment before adding, ‘And I don’t suppose I am, either.’

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Now that Matt had recovered from the shock of his unique awakening, he and his family and friends became engrossed in an exploration of the nature of his uploaded mind. How much of his old life could he remember? Did he notice any differences in the way his mind operated? Did he feel the same as before, internally? For several hours this investigation – part introspection and part discussion – was wholly absorbing, and he didn’t feel the need to ask for more sense or data inputs to his consciousness.

  It became apparent that he had retained access to most, but not all, of his life memories. He spent a long time comparing notes with David, Sophie and Leo about events in his early life.

  ‘There’s a lyric in a Prefab Sprout song,’ Leo said at one point. ‘Goes something like,

  Nothing sounds as good as “I Remember That”

  Like a bolt out of the blue, did you f
eel it too?

  And they’re right: shared nostalgia is a wonderful thing.’

  ‘That’s a great song, Leo,’ Matt said. ‘But do you remember the rest of it?’

  ‘Cos that’s all we can have, yes it’s all we can trust;

  It’s a hell of a ride but it’s a journey to dust’.’

  ‘Well, not for you, Matt,’ Vic said. ‘Not any more. You have gone beyond human limitations.’

  ‘Well, we’ll see about that,’ Matt replied. ‘This is a seriously freaky situation and I’m not sure how I’m going to feel about it when I get properly used to it. Having no senses and no body is very strange. I’m not sure whether I’ll just adjust to it, or whether . . .’ No-one was sorry that he left the rest of the thought unsaid.

  ‘Just take your time, son,’ David advised. ‘Try and relax into it, and get used to it slowly. There’s no need to hurry things. And you will get your other senses back. It won’t stay black for long. We have systems set up, but we need to take things in stages – make sure it all goes smoothly. Which it will. Trust me. We’re starting with auditory input and output, but we’ll do the rest soon.’

  Leo was right. ‘I remember that’ was a powerful emotional healer for Matt. Every time he related a story about his childhood, and Sophie or David played back their memory of it, he felt a little less alone, a little less scared. The exchanges were a healing experience for Sophie and David too. David wondered after a while whether it was becoming a little indulgent, when out of the corner of his eye he caught one of the scientists stifling a yawn. But he banished the thought: his son was shut inside a huge metal box for the rest of his life. It was a potentially terrifying prospect, and he deserved all the reassurance that they could collectively provide. The hell with what anyone else thought about it.

  Just as with a biologically normal human, there were episodes that Matt did not remember, especially when Sophie reached back into his very young childhood. He could not remember the floppy blue elephant which had been his first cuddly toy, or the TV cartoon he had adored as a toddler. He had no recollection of being three years old, pulling his shirt up and pretending to swim across the wooden floor in the conservatory because he liked the cold feeling on his tummy. He had no memories at all of his paternal grandfather, who died when he was four. The first time he drew a blank like this he grew nervous, and it took Sophie and David a few moments to calm him down. But after that he accepted that this was normal: humans simply don’t remember much of their early years.

  But there were also missing passages and aspects of his life which he knew he should have access to. He had no mental pictures of Egypt, even though David and Sophie told him they had taken several holidays in a resort on the Sinai Peninsula. Occasionally he failed to recognise a word, like ‘cave’, and ‘tiger’, and he was puzzled to learn that these were everyday concepts.

  ‘Do you think I will be able to regain these missing memories?’ Matt asked. ‘I’ve heard it said that the brain remembers everything that happens to it, but that only selected memories are accessible.’

  ‘I’m afraid that theory is discredited, Matt’ Vic replied. ‘We now know that the brain is very selective about what it commits to long-term memory. But some of these memories that you are missing are things which were committed to your long-term memory. So who knows? We might well be able to conjure them up again. It’s going to take a while to figure out just how much we can do with your brain . . .’

  He stopped as he noticed Sophie glaring at him. ‘I mean, of course, how much you can do, with our help.’

  A new and exciting thought occurred to Matt. ‘So when do I get to talk to my friends?’ he asked. ‘Can we invite Alice and Carl here? And Jemma?’

  Vic frowned, and glanced anxiously at David.

  ‘I’m sorry, Matt,’ David replied. ‘We have to keep the number of people who know about you to an absolute minimum. There would be no way to bring your friends here without their parents knowing, and we can’t risk that until we’ve figured out how we’re going to play this thing. We will have to announce your existence to the world before long, but we have to do it right, or the reaction could be very dangerous.’

  This was a hard blow to Matt, but he could tell there was no point arguing. ‘Yeah,’ he mused distantly. ‘I guess there’s a lot to think about on that front.’ A few moments of awkward silence passed before he spoke again.

  ‘So when can I have some visual input? And taste, touch and smell? And music. Could I listen to some music, do you think?’

  ‘Yes of course,’ Vic replied, relieved to be back on safer ground. ‘We have peripherals ready for you. We don’t want to rush it, but if you feel ready to give them a try we can bring them online.’

  ‘Let’s do it one by one, shall we?’ David suggested.

  ‘OK,’ Matt agreed. ‘Let’s start with visual.’

  ‘No problem,’ Vic replied. ‘It’s all linked up, we simply need to throw a virtual switch to power up the camera.’ Turning to the others, he added, ‘The monitor on that desk over there will display the same feed that Matt is seeing.’

  He typed a couple of instructions into the main keyboard, and then stood back and invited Sophie to press the Enter key.

  An image of the computer control room came onto the monitor that Vic had indicated, but Matt said nothing. They waited a few minutes before David asked if he could see anything.

  ‘Yeah, there’s light, but it’s fuzzy,’ Matt replied. ‘I can’t make out any kind of picture. Oh, wait . . . something is forming . . . there are some shapes . . . some movement. I think maybe it’s starting to come into focus . . . I’m not sure.’

  ‘Fascinating!’ Vic exclaimed. ‘Matt, it sounds as if you are going through the process that babies go through as their brains learn to decode their visual input – only you are doing it much, much quicker. We should have expected this. I’m sorry, we should have forewarned you, only you resolved the audio signal so fast I thought it would be the same with the visual signal. But of course there is a huge amount more information in the visual signal.’

  ‘It’s okay, Vic,’ Matt said abstractedly. ‘It’s weird, but I think I’m getting there. Maybe this is what recovering from a really major hangover is like.’

  David, Sophie and Leo exchanged glances, relieved and proud that Matt was able to crack jokes at a time like this.

  After another five minutes, Matt reported that he had a good, clear image of the room. He asked if the camera could be moved around, so he could see the rest of the environment. He was especially interested to see the computer room itself, which Vic showed him through the large window in the control room.

  ‘So that’s what I look like now? That’s a cool look. I seem to have become big-headed, though.’

  Norman laughed. ‘Good to hear you’re keeping things in perspective, Matt.’

  ‘Can you give me control over the direction of the camera?’ Matt asked. ‘In fact, can you give me access to multiple cameras?’

  ‘Yes, we can do that,’ agreed Vic. ‘But I strongly recommend that we take this slowly. Let’s get you set up with your other three senses first, and get them settled down. What I want to do here first is to see whether you can correctly identify a range of different inputs, and to check that you can turn the inputs on and off at will.’

  Smell was first. Julia, one of the scientists who had been with the project since the start, presented a range of different substances to a sensor on her desk. She heated some of them slightly with a burner to release their scent. Smell was like the audio input rather than the visual input in that Matt resolved it almost immediately. They were puzzled when Matt reported that his perceptions of mint and rosemary had swapped over, however. They left it as a glitch to be solved later.

  Taste was the province of Junchao, another of the original scientists. Matt reported this as the strangest sensory experience so far.

  ‘It doesn’t seem right to be able to taste something without feeling my tongue touching
it, or rolling it around inside my mouth. On the other hand, it’s nice to think that I could have that chocolate taste on permanent input without ever adding an ounce to my existing weight.’ He paused. ‘Which must be quite a few tonnes, I’m guessing?’

  ‘Quite a few, as you say,’ Leo agreed with a grin.

  ‘The last of your five senses is touch,’ Vic said. ‘We’ve set up a haptic glove on Rodriguo’s desk over here.’ He gestured to another desk in the second row. ‘Have you seen one of these before, Matt? They are used in video games.’

  ‘I’ve used a virtual one, but never played with a real one before. Interesting switch, come to think of it: now I’m virtual and the glove is real.’

  Suddenly, Matt laughed out loud.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Vic and David asked in unison.

  ‘It’s OK. It’s just that the glove looks like Thing from the Addams family. Can you paint him green for me?’

  ‘Sure,’ Vic said, grinning. ‘Sure thing, Matt.’

  ‘OK, OK,’ David said. ‘When we descend to making puns like that you know it’s getting late. Which it is. I for one need to get some sleep. This has been a magnificent day: quite possibly the best day of my life. I can’t begin to tell you how wonderful it is to have you back, Matt, and I want to thank you, Vic, Norman, and all your colleagues here, for making this possible. Sophie, Leo, how are you holding up?’

  ‘I’m tired too, darling, but I don’t think we should leave Matt alone. Why don’t you go and get some sleep and I’ll stay here. Maybe we can swap over in a few hours?’

  ‘Matt should sleep too, if he can,’ Vic said, ‘although I don’t know how that will happen. Do you feel tired, Matt?’

  ‘Not at all. Perhaps my new brain doesn’t need sleep?’

  ‘Highly unlikely,’ Vic replied. ‘We still don’t know exactly what sleep is for, amazingly enough, but we do know that human brains which are deprived of it are seriously impaired. Your brain may be hosted in a huge set of server boxes now, but it is precisely modelled on your old carbon brain, so I think we should assume it will have the same need for sleep.’