by Jon F. Merz
Ian looked at him for several moments before finally tossing the linen napkin on to the table. "Come. We are finished here, I expect. It is time to show you what you consider the impossible."
Ian led Harrison back to the laboratory through the stone corridor, by this time even colder from the night air than before. Harrison shivered as he walked and kept his arms around himself.
"Ian, you really must set a fire in the hearth downstairs. It's frightfully cold in here."
Ian nodded. "I will." He opened the door to the main laboratory and pointed to a heavily cushioned chair. "Please sit there. I'll have a fire on in short order."
Harrison watched Ian toss several logs onto the open hearth and then strike a long wooden match off of an antiqued silver tinder box. A flame leapt to life and began licking its way down the length of the wooden stick. Ian held it under the logs he'd stacked and was rewarded with instant combustion.
Harrison smiled as the warmth of the flames reached him. "A bit more comfortable than it was earlier," he said.
"Yes," said Ian. "It is."
Harrison sighed and attempted to settle the uncomfortable gnawing in his stomach. "How long does the effect last?"
Ian shrugged. "It ranges depending on mood and respiration. Usually no more than twenty minutes."
"All right," said Harrison. "Let's get on with it."
Ian nodded and produced a lengthy hypodermic needle. "The chemical compound attaches itself to the blood cells in much the same manner as adrenaline, producing a kind of endorphin rush. As the chemical reaches the brain, several sensory experiences occur which promote an elevated sense of happiness and fulfillment."
"Complacency?"
"No, more than that. It's as if everything you've been desiring has been just fulfilled. Complete, in a sense. Aside from that, the chemical also activates a type of dream sequence within the mind. Almost like some kind of interactive technology."
"Will I be conscious?"
Ian smiled. "You'll be conscious in the sense of knowing you're under the influence of the chemical, but things will move as if you're taking part in a dream. You'll find the more you let go, the better the experience becomes."
In spite of himself, Harrison smiled. "Well, give me the shot and be done with it."
"One more thing," said Ian. "The drug tends to produce elaborate dreams of whomever you've been fond of. If you've lusted after a celebrity or the waitress at the pub, the chemical will invoke their likeness on to the dream sequence."
"Incredible," said Harrison. "This should be quite interesting, then."
Ian rolled up his brother's sleeve and swabbed the area with an alcohol towelette. He looked at Harrison. "Here we go."
The needle sticking him in the vein down his right arm twinged for just a moment, before Harrison felt a cool sensation running into his blood. He watched Ian remove the needle and stick a wad of gauze there to prevent any bleeding. Ian smiled at his brother.
"Close your eyes, now, Harrison. Embrace the experience."
Harrison sighed and relaxed further against the seat. The tingling sensation in his arm had produced a wave of excitement in his stomach. Harrison likened it to the time he'd been in the pub brawl with the soccer fans. Moments before the fight had erupted, Harrison had felt the adrenaline flooding his bloodstream. He felt galvanized and invulnerable. That same sensation was fast enveloping his whole system.
Harrison felt himself breathing faster and his heart was pounding in his chest. My pulse rate must be through the roof, he thought.
Behind his eyelids, things began to change. The myriad patterns of starfield dissolved and melted into the subconscious landscape, replaced now by the images of soft blue sky intermittently sprouting soft cushiony clouds. Harrison's face felt warm and he saw a blazing sun overhead. In the distance, the soft lull of rolling waves against a shoreline prompted him to wiggle his toes and feel the grains of crystal and sand against his exposed skin.
"You'll get burned if you don't put some lotion on, Harrison."
He turned, physically, and saw the face peering into his own. She was beautiful. Light brown hair, long to her shoulders. Brilliant blue eyes and a set of full puckering lips that made Harrison want to kiss her forever.
At first he didn't recognize her. And then, the slow realization happened. Her name was Julia and Harrison had known her at the university. They had never dated, never even been formally introduced. But Harrison had never forgotten how captivating she was.
"Would you like me to rub some on your back?"
He nodded, still aware of how foolish it might seem to speak out in front of Ian whom he presumed was watching this whole experiment with the attentiveness of a new mother.
And then the most incredible feeling engulfed him as the cool aloe was applied to his skin. He felt her hands, soft and gliding under the buffer of lotion, flow and slide all over his back, working his muscles and glazing him with the protective sun screen.
"That better?"
He nodded again, looking into her eyes. She smiled, her pouty lips parting over fine white teeth. He drew himself closer to her, longing for her touch against his. And then contact.
The kiss was long, hard, wet, and filled with the emotion Harrison had always shrugged off with disdain. But he'd never kissed anyone like this, never at all. When he'd had his trysts, they'd been meaningless. Harrison had never put any emotional effort into his conquests, but that was changing here. Now.
They pulled apart and she smiled again. "You're magnificent, Harrison."
Instinctively, Harrison rolled his eyes upwards, thanking whatever God was listening to him. Then he looked at her again.
"Make love to me Harrison."
He felt her hands on him then, searching, touching, seeking...finding. My God, she's incredible, he thought. Abruptly, he felt another sensation, that of some kind of blanket being placed over him and far off in the distance, a door closing.
She was in front of him again, writhing and moaning his name. Her hair whipped around, strands stinging Harrison's eyes as she did so. There was a moistness down there and Harrison redoubled his own efforts, listening to the desired effect take place.
When they were finished. Julia slumped next to him, snuggling and stroking his heaving chest. "Harrison, I love you."
He smiled. "I love you, too, Julia." His heart ached for her and the feeling she would always be there for him made him want to cry with joy. He kissed her again, softly this time, moving to some previously unknown rhythm that had lain dormant in Harrison's heart.
Harrison moved to embrace Julia again, but as he did, her image became hazy and then blinked out. The sand, the sun, the breezes and sounds of rolling waves vanished.
And then it was over.
Harrison snapped his eyes open. He was bathed in sweat and the moistness in his crotch signified how totally involved he'd been in the experience.
Ian was nowhere to be seen.
And there was a towel over Harrison.
A note on the table next to the chair read:
Clean up, get changed, and find your way to the study.
Harrison was grateful for Ian's discretion. It was embarrassing enough getting a stiffy in front of friends and family, but to go all the way, so to speak, was utterly dreadful. Ian had apparently been familiar with that experience.
Harrison found a set of clothes on the vanity in the bathroom and quickly showered and changed. He padded downstairs, tired and feeling utterly content with the state of the world around him. In the study, Ian sat puffing on his pipe while a fire crackled in the nearby hearth.
"All set then, are you?"
Harrison smiled and chuckled. "Ian, what in the world have you created?"
"You tell me."
Harrison helped himself to the snifter of brandy on the table. "Bloody well gone and given the world the sexual innovation of a lifetime."
Ian frowned. "Harrison, it's not about the sex. Tell me what you're feeling now. Tell me."
"Did you want to leave her?"
"No."
Ian nodded. "Exactly, my point. Don't you see? That's love. Bottled and ready to ship."
"It doesn't last long enough, though, Ian."
Ian frowned. "Well, really Harrison, one can't forget this is the real world."
"Do you have more?"
"Sorry?"
"More," said Harrison. "Do you have more?"
"I have as much as I can make," said Ian. "The formula's stored here and I can make it as much as I want."
"Or need," said Harrison.
Ian looked at him. "You had quite an experience, didn't you?"
Harrison nodded. "Yes. I saw a woman I haven't thought about in a very long time. I never even knew her."
"And she was good?"
"She was marvelous," said Harrison. "I honestly wish I'd taken better advantage of having seen her at the university. Now, I fear it's probably far too late."
"Perhaps not," said Ian. "After all, you now have the benefit of something most people don't. At least not yet."
"Tell me," said Harrison. "Is it possible to determine who the drug will conjure up? For instance, if I were to picture Marilyn Monroe, would the chemical automatically produce her image as that of my fantasy?"
Ian frowned. "The interesting thing about the chemical compound is that it produces images based upon stored memories. Meaning simply that if all you ever thought about was Marilyn Monroe, then she would pop up."
"So how come it produced Julia? I don't think about her consciously. In fact, I wasn't even sure who she was when I saw her first."
Ian smiled. "Perhaps you weren't consciously thinking of her, but maybe your subconscious was."
Harrison said nothing for several moments. Ian remained still, content to puff on his pipe while Harrison indulged in this period of introspection. After several minutes, Harrison looked up abruptly.
"I'll call her."
"Who's that, now?"
"Julia, of course," said Harrison. "I'll ring her up. Shouldn't be a big deal. Tell her I missed an opportunity I want to rectify. Perhaps you're right, brother, perhaps love is a wondrous thing I've been missing for so many years."
Ian stopped smoking. "Harrison, I'm afraid you're not looking at this as sensibly as you need be."
"Meaning what?"
"Meaning," said Ian relighting the tobacco, "that you can't expect Julia to behave in real life as she did in your induced state."
"But she was so wonderful. Ian, she said she loved me!"
"She did what you wanted her to do," said Ian. "Nothing more."
"You're saying she did everything I wanted her to do because my desires were programmed into my mind?"
Ian nodded. "Exactly. The real Julia may not even look as she once did. She may be ugly or obese or even given to political views you yourself do not embrace. What you experienced was the perfect woman, in your mind's eye. It's really not wise to attempt to inflict fantasy upon reality and think the real Julia will react favorably. If anything, she may well consider you a lunatic. At worst, you could be arrested."
Harrison downed his brandy. "Ian, you've shown me quite a number of things here tonight. Not the least of which was your wonderful invention. I'm amazed by its reality and by its future applications. But what you also showed me was that I'm an empty man. I need the love of a woman to be complete in my life. Julia is that woman. I must go to her."
"You can't," said Ian. "It will not be the same. You must resist that urge, brother."
"Resist?" said Harrison. "How can I resist? I didn't even know what true love was until you poisoned me with your creation."
"Poisoned?"
Harrison sighed. "Too strong a word. I am grateful, really. Without you, I might never have known. But now," he shook his head. "Now, Ian, I'm distraught. What am I to do? Can I even hope to go back to my life? It was stable and sterile of females except when I wanted sex."
"And now," said Ian, "you're more of a man than ever before. And you're scared."
"Absolutely," said Harrison. "What the hell am I to do?"
Ian frowned. "Not sure, really. I must confess I hadn't figured this into the equation."
"It may be time," said Harrison. "I feel a shambles. My heart's aching. You must put me back under."
Ian shook his head. "Not tonight. It would be too soon. I don't know what the long term effects of the chemical are."
Harrison dashed from his chair, falling in front of Ian. "You must! Give me the compound. If I can never embrace the real Julia, then at least be merciful and let me have the fake one."
Ian looked at his brother. "It's impossible."
"Why?"
"There's no guarantee you'll dream of the same woman."
"No guarantee? You just told me not five minutes ago that the compound would pick up on whomever I thought of most. No Ian, stop stonewalling me. I need that drug."
"No," said Ian. "You asked me earlier if it was addictive, and I thought it was not. But I have been the only experiment conducted thus far. Now, I see that you are addicted, and after only one dosage. That's far too dangerous.'
Harrison slumped beside Ian's chair. "So, now what?"
Ian rose. "It must be destroyed."
Harrison torqued his head. "What?"
"It's true," said Ian walking out of the study. "Obviously the compound is far too unstable to be mass-produced. Imagine all the heartbreak. It would be worse than any disease known to man."
Harrison shook his head. "But you could make modifications. Change the compound. It could work. It could be an amazing invention."
Ian walked down the stone steps to the laboratory. "I'm afraid I took this all the wrong way. I thought I had developed something extraordinary. Instead, I've made a huge mistake."
Harrison ran after him. "But it could be great! It could be!"
Ian stopped and turned around. "Look at yourself. Hours ago you sat across from me calling me a crazy dreamer. Now you sit there bathed in sweat like some crack house denizen waiting to scrape enough shillings together to take a hit. It's a complete turnaround from your previous disposition. That alone should prove this drug is too dangerous."
Harrison frowned. "Ian, I can't let you destroy that drug."
"You'd stop me? How? Hurt me, Harrison? Your own brother? Maybe you'd kill me. Is that it?"
Harrison shook his head. "You can't do it, Ian. You can't destroy the compound. You must let it be. The human race needs this drug. I need this compound. I've never felt love before and now that I have I must have it all the time! Don't you see that?"
Ian nodded. "I do. And that's exactly why it must be destroyed. I couldn't live with myself if I let this out. What happens if there's a shortage of supply? What then? People going through crack withdrawal are bad enough, can you imagine what it would be like to have a nation of love-sick junkies?"
"Rather that than some kind of drug that destroys the body," said Harrison.
"But that's just it," said Ian. "The damage is the same. Whether it's done to the body or the mind or even the heart, the damage will last and cause just as much grief and anxiety as any narcotic ever has before."
Harrison stepped closer. "I can't let you destroy the compound."
Ian backed up. "I don't recall giving you a voice in the decision."
"But you saw fit to use me as an experiment," said Harrison. "Doesn't that grant me some sort of rights to champion the compound?"
"Not at all," said Ian. "You were merely useful. True, you volunteered, but you did not gain any degree of voting power in your decision."
Harrison frowned. "You scientists, always bollocking things up. Just because you have the idea, you think it gives you the rights to play god."
"In this c
ase, yes," said Ian. "You're not looking at this objectively."
"Objectively? We're talking about love here. Not some scientific black and white concept! How can you take an emotion, such as what you've been trying to develop and subject it to such a callous eye? One on hand you try to help people by allowing them access to mankind's most powerful emotion and yet you deny the intrinsic heart and soul of that emotion." Harrison sighed. "Dammit, Ian, leave it be."
Ian shook his head. "It can't be helped now." He hefted a notebook. "My notes." He tossed them into the receding embers of the fireplace. The pages curled and caught, smoking and then bursting into flame, the blaze licking its way through the book.
"No!" Harrison leapt for the fireplace and plucked the burning book out of its fiery tomb, slapping it on the floor to douse the flames.
But Ian continued his quest. He ran to a small refrigerator and yanked the door open. From inside he removed ten test tubes and clutching them to himself, he carried them to the nearby sink. One by one, he popped the tops off and poured the contents down the drain. "You can't stop me, Harrison. I must do this."
Harrison rose from the floor. "How could you, Ian? How could you rob me of the one thing that's eluded me for so long?"
"Harrison, it's better this way."
"Better?" Harrison shook his head. "I don't think so."
Ian smiled. "But don't you see the hell this could have caused?"
"Maybe I'm fixated on the pleasure I felt," said Harrison. "It was so utterly powerful." He drew closer to Ian.
Ian backed away. "It was truly successful."
Harrison looked into the sink at the test tubes. He picked one up. "Perhaps, it was too successful."
"What do you mean?"
Harrison chuckled. "Something like this, so potent, it could drive someone to do almost anything to preserve it." He clenched the tube and brought one end down on the counter, smashing a large piece off.
"But it must be destroyed."
Harrison frowned. "So you say. You, the creator and the destroyer. But what you've done instead of destroying the substance is destroyed me. You've cast me out of paradise, Ian. I cannot let you do that."