Stepping Stones (Founding of the Federation Short Stories Book 1)

by Chris Hechtl

  In order to get it to work, they had to simulate the retina's output cells called ganglion cells with electrodes. Conventional wisdom in the prosthesis field held to using photo receptors to connect to a small number of connections on the optic nerve. Cameras had been used, converting the image to an electrical impulse projection and then to light to photocells, but Jack took it in a different direction. He used software to make the conversion from video image to light, cutting down on the steps and therefore the hardware involved. But unfortunately he was out of money to pay for the connection to test it.

  “Once your uncle has recovered enough, give me a call. Keep me posted on his progress, but I think we can do something about the vision. I know a couple of teams are working on the vision problem. An MIT team has worked out a way to stitch the optic nerve interface with a robot. But they haven't gone beyond a thousand connections. It is also in black and white.”

  “Will it even work with his original eye?” Allison asked, picking up the small eye and turning it over and over in her hands.

  “That's why I went with the adaptive software. It will take time and some tinkering, I get that,” Jack said.

  “Oh yes. The adjustment period is even longer than the rehabilitation therapies,” Doctor Mallory agreed.

  With Ed still recovering, the exosuit was still sitting unused. Jack showed the device to his assistants. They picked the design apart. He did his best to keep the criticism in stride. They were working to a common goal, his uncle's recovery, and potentially others who had been so critically injured. He listened and took notes as they worked out a better design.

  Jack shook hands with Doctor Mallory and the students when he took them to the airport. “Let us know how it goes,” the doctor stated.

  “I will.”

  “I'm surprised you got approval from the feds so quickly,” Allison Crouse said, shaking her head. “I'm still waiting on stuff from the FDA, and it's been a year.”

  Jack shrugged, forcing himself not to wince. Eventually the FDA would find out. “The rules are different for this sort of thing. Fortunately, what we're doing has worked out so far.”

  “Just take baby steps. Remember that,” Doctor Mallory cautioned.

  Jack nodded dutifully as he handed the older man his carry-on. “Will do, sir.”

  “See that you do,” the doctor said as he led his troop off into the airport.

  {D}==+===@E

  A week after his new surgery Ed flexed his artificial knee for the first time. “I just wish we could have gone all the way. Built a leg for you.”

  “Jack, this is great. Just great,” Ed said gruffly, with a catch in his voice as he slowly flexed the knee.

  “The bridge is working?”

  “I can't feel much of it. An odd pressure. This is the myoelectric and the bridge or both,” Ed said with a shrug.

  “Okay,” Jack replied with a nod as he watched his uncle work his way along the long road to recovery.

  “We can't try the exosuit until the limbs are healed again,” the therapist said. “At least the leg portion. But you worked out a segment to replace his missing right arm?” the young man said, looking at Jack.

  Jack nodded. “Can we give it a try?”

  “I think so. Just go as slow as slow. If you feel any pain or discomfort we stop,” Mike said, looking sternly at his patient. Ed nodded.

  Jack helped Mike set up the upper torso and limb. It wrapped around Ed's body with straps. The thing was made out of plastic and metal and looked like something out of a science fiction movie. Mike sniffed. “This thing reminds me of the suit from Elysium. Just without the studs connecting it to the body,” he said.

  “I was thinking Live Die Repeat,” Ed said with a grunt as they got the bicep strapped on. Mike made the myoelectric connections and then flipped the power switch. “Okay, you are live.”

  “I don't feel any different,” Ed said, moving slightly. He blinked when the right arm flexed at the elbow. “Cool,” he said softly.

  Jack crossed his arms and stepped back, smiling in approval as his uncle moved the artificial limb for the first time.

  “You okay, man?” Mike asked, voice dripping empathy as he noted Ed's shining eyes.

  “Yeah,” Ed replied hoarsely. “Dust in my eyes or something,” he said. When Jack came over to check the suit, he reached out with the artificial limb and wrapped him in a hug, pulling him in tight. “Thank you,” Ed said, breaking down into a sob. “Thank you.”

  “That's what family is for, Uncle,” Jack said softly, fighting his own tears.

  {D}==+===@E

  Ursilla had her own projects to contend with. Nova Biotics had allowed her to expand her test phase from the Petri dish to the back of a host subject. The first two tries had been failures, but the third looked promising.

  Stimulating the growth was tricky. She lost two fingers due to too much hormone and the pig rubbing his itching body against the side of his pen and then rolling. When the two remaining fingers and stubby thumb were half size, she judged they could be harvested. But she instantly got into trouble with the company as well as the hospital administration when she had them shipped to the hospital.

  In order to have them implanted, they would have to move Ed to a private facility to do more, and they were out of money to do so. She was crushingly disappointed by the failure. The fingers were frozen and dissected by the company to see how well they had turned out.

  {D}==+===@E

  Jack studied his prospects longingly. There were spacers going up, dozens every other month it seemed. It was an exponential growth now that the frontier had been opened to the public. The large corporations were starting to get on the band wagon; the idea of control, of making billions appealed to them like everyone else.

  Like him as well, Jack had to admit. It was a problem though. He'd planned on finishing school then going through one of the space courses. One of the private schools he'd set his sights on, three including a Russian one. Plus get himself a proper skinsuit before going up. Now those plans were in ruins.

  He frowned thoughtfully, scratching under his chin.

  “Seen the latest movie? Can you believe they are remaking all of the Marvel universe movies? I mean I loved it when they got up to Infinity War, don't get me wrong. But hitting the reset like that … it's just … wrong I guess,” his mother said, waving her tablet.

  “Reading the news? Mom, movies aren't like you,” Jack said, eying her.

  “I'm not normally into them, but your aunt has dragged me out on occasion. Even sicked a couple of single men on me too,” she said. He goggled at her, eyes wide. She giggled. “I'm not that old and decrepit, son. I like having a life,” she growled.

  “I didn't say that. I'm just trying to process the idea of you dating.”

  “It's not that hard to grasp. Doesn't happen often,” she said with a shrug. “I haven't found anyone I've connected with like your father. Not that deeply.” She sighed, looking away. “I don't know if I ever will,” she murmured.

  “Mom,” he said, unsure of what to say to help her.

  “Some things cannot be fixed, son,” she said. She shrugged. “Don't worry about it. So, what are you doing? Almost ready to go back to school?”

  “I'm not quite there yet. I'm taking correspondence classes of course. It's a pain in the ass. I changed my focus a little to get into the prosthetics and to explore the programming side a little more.”

  “Oh?”

  “It's helped me refine my models a ton, plus rewrite the software. I figured out how to write scripts to do some of the programming for me, which is cool. I used open-source templates and programming modules. It's a huge time saver, though I still have to run simulations and debug it up the ying yang.”

  “Don't get anything up your uncle's ying yang or you'll regret it, son,” Ursilla teased, ruffling his hair.

  “I'm trying not to.”

  “Good boy. It's a wonder how computers are these days. They can almost program themse
lves. Scary.”

  “It's all user, Mom. The user tells it what to do.”

  “Still. We used to worry about such things a long time ago. Your grandparents used to carry on, expecting the machines to rise up and kill everyone.”

  “It hasn't happened yet. And like I said, we program them. So, we can program them not to do it,” Jack said.

  “Okay,” she said nodding. “If it works, it's all good. Now if you can do something about the nuclear weapons out there,” he mock gasped. She snorted. “I know I'm reaching, son, but a mother has to every once in a while to keep you on your toes. Carry on.”

  “Right,” he replied dryly.

  {D}==+===@E

  Ursilla's attempt to circumvent the rules had gotten unwanted attention. An FDA inspector came sniffing around two days later. The medical staff made excuses that the patient was resting and only family were allowed to visit. But that only stalled the inquiry.

  The attention also got the interest of the US military's DARPA program. Lieutenant Murtough visited again; this time running into Ed in rehab.

  Mike was putting him through his paces with the exoframe. It was still a work in progress, which was why Jack was on hand. But he'd developed self-correcting and self-learning programming to go along with the suit. They seemed to be working well.

  They weren't taking any chances though; the suit was tethered to the ceiling in case of a fall. He looked over when the lieutenant came in. He could see the instant interest in fascination with the project in the man's expression.

  “You did this all with a home 3-D printer?” the lieutenant asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “Well, a bit more than that actually,” Jack said with a smile. “A few people sent me bits and helped me with the titanium. I'm going to be indebted for a while,” he said ruefully.

  Ed glanced his way and then away. Mike urged him to concentrate on walking.

  “Well, we can use that. If it works out, DARPA would take a hand in this,” the lieutenant stated.

  “I admit I'm interested. If you could do some back channel help, I might be very interested,” Jack offered.

  “Like say get the FDA and others off your tail?” the lieutenant asked innocently. Jack grunted. “I think that can be arranged. As long as we get full access to the data.”

  “I think we can work something out,” Jack agreed with a nod.

  “I have to admit, we're also interested in the cloning and stem cell therapies your mother has been doing. They would work wonders for injured veterans. But the backlash in the media and hysterics in the public are an obstacle. We can try to backdoor some things, but I don't know how long we can hold off. Some idiot with a blog …”

  Jack winced. He'd already had to step on Phoebe. She'd gone from ranting about the lost cause to actually being enthused when she'd seen her dad walk again. And of course she'd taken to social media to let the world know.

  “I'm trying to keep a lid on it. Patient confidentiality,” Jack said. The lieutenant nodded. “We're also still taking baby steps,” he said, indicating the upper torso.

  “I see it's not finished,” the lieutenant replied.

  “No, it's finished. Or at least the basic design is. I'll improve it steadily of course. He doesn't need support on his left side. The right is still getting there. Once we get the arm up, we'll detach the shoulder. And once he doesn't need the body brace and halo, we'll get rid of the upper torso completely. The plan is to phase the suit out completely.”

  “A good goal,” the lieutenant stated. “Though I can see the potential there. A lot of potential. You got the idea for exploration …?”

  Jack snorted. “I've seen some of the old movies when I was doing reference work for a history project. Plus stuff I dredged up for this project to give me some inspiration. And I've seen a couple of ancient toons. Uncle Ed there is a fan of a really old one, Exosquad,” he teased.

  “I heard that. Not half bad either,” Ed said from where he was standing.

  “If the shoe fits …,” Jack replied as he turned to see his mother come into the room. She smiled at him and then turned to watch her brother-in-law walk.

  I've heard ideas to use exosuits to explore in space. It's not really needed there,” Jack said with a shrug. “I mean, you don't need a suit to augment your strength when you are in a third gravity. That's just a waste of time and materials.”

  “True,” the therapist said thoughtfully. The lieutenant nodded.

  “So, the only real applications are here. In construction, therapy,” Jack nodded to his uncle and then to a pair of therapists working with a woman in a commercial exoframe. “Or the military,” Jack said, nodding to the lieutenant. “And I understand you have your own designs,” he said.

  “DARPA has been working on them for some time, yes. But you have a new approach. And you have been cutting corners, but well, getting results,” the lieutenant said.

  “And I've been shit lucky along the way. Someone's been smoothing my way, but things have worked out damn well. Don't think I haven't noticed that,” Jack said. The lieutenant chuckled.

  {D}==+===@E

  “He's right, Jack. It sucks. The VA would be a big market alone. Tens of thousands of people would get their bodies back. We're doing so much for people now, but I know we can do more. So much more, but the hysterics in the public …,” Ursilla exhaled, sounding disgusted and defeated all in one. “It's not going to happen. Not now. Not for a long, long time.”

  Nova Biotics had been hyped about her progress but had slapped her with another punishment and probation. It sucked. They liked that she was making such progress but breaking the rules to do so robbed her of benefiting from it. The double-sided talk sickened her.

  “You mention market, Mom, and market potential, but I know to you it's more than that. You want to heal those people. Don't play me,” Jack said, eying his mother.

  Ursilla studied him then looked away. After a moment she shrugged slightly. So he'd seen through her plan. Or at least a small part of it. “Stem cells are being used for grafting tissue now. And we've found other means to repair such basic things like hearing and paralysis. But …”

  “But you can't do genetic repairs like you would like to do. Not anymore. And we're wandering off topic,” Jack said. “Which means you're setting me up for a pitch. Out with it, Mom.”

  “Jack,” she sighed heavily. “So much like your father it hurts sometimes. You always can see when I'm bullshitting you.”

  He snorted. “And when you're buttering me up. So spit it out, Mom.”

  “I know you were only interested in the prosthetic project because of the engineering challenges involved. That and because he is family. That no one was willing to help, or they were just going to give him crappy help.”

  “True. I could have bought a prosthetic out of my college fund for him and that would have been that. But they pissed me off.”

  “Yes.”

  “And I know you had the same reaction, Mom,” Jack said, eying her. He had made quite the profit from the prosthetic business and the side markets it had opened up. He was in the process of selling the basic patents to Nova Biotics; he'd already expanded off of them. Selling out to them sucked, but he was working out a deal for them to cut his mother more slack and possibly allow them to pick up some of the cost of everything, including the cloning of the fingers and the attachment surgery.

  The sale would be enough to not only recoup his start-up costs and research costs while also allow him to move some of the remaining money into some start-ups he saw that had great potential for future profit. And he would even be able to invest in his real dream, in going to space.

  “We can't grow limbs. We've tried different methods of doing it, even building them one piece at a time. The best way to do it is to clone the tissue using adult stem cells, then trigger the growth of the body part we want. I can do that in the lab, but we've run into problems.”

  “Problems as in you have to grow most of the anima
l for the body part you need. There is a reason the body has all those organs,” Jack replied with a knowing nod. In order to grow an arm, you needed a circulatory system for blood to flow, nerves, oxygen, food … plus the shoulder to hinge on. And the muscles needed to be worked to function properly. It all came together like the old song, Dem Bones. Shoulder bone connected to the back bone …

  Just getting the growth hormones right must be a pain. He'd stick to simple engineering any day—engineering and business.

  She grimaced. “Yes, that's a big part of it. I don't like what I heard some of the other companies proposing,” she said darkly. “Radick Industries, Genetek, Biogen, some of the others,” she shivered. “They've stumbled so often publicly that they are killing the industry. There are so many blasted restrictions lately we can't breathe,” she said shaking her head. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, getting control of her temper.

  “Then the answer is to go where the rules aren't in force. And the only place …,” Jack looked up to the ceiling and beyond. He went over to the window and looked out at the night sky. “Onward and upward, Mom.”

  She stared at him for a long moment. He slowly turned back to her. When he saw her stunned look, he nodded, totally serious. “Yes, this could work. It dovetails with my own dreams and plans,” he said heavily.

  She blinked. “Jack ...” She shook her head. “The problem is immense Jack. There is no way it can be done. And for so little?”

  “Oh, I have my own ideas too, Mom; this is just a side benefit. An additional market potential I hadn't looked into until now. But as for the problem being so big, you taught me better than that.” He looked at her expectantly. When she didn't respond right away, he shrugged. “We break it down, Mom, like we always do. Break it down into smaller pieces, then smaller if necessary. Then knock them off. Multitask if possible. And get people on board with the same interests,” Jack replied.

  “But getting them up there? Patients are fragile, Jack.”

  “One thing at a time, Mom. They have to have a place to go first,” he told her. She nodded. “And that means we need industry.”