by Alec Birri
The feeling of being back together at last was pure bliss. Brian looked up to see the sun poking its rays through the trees in the garden. There was something soft between his bare toes – it was grass intermixed with wild flowers. The sound of giggling made him realise he wasn’t only back with Claire – the whole family were together again. The scene just needed the smell of a barbecue and the flight of a single bumble bee and everything would be perfect. It was.
He brought his wife’s face up to meet his. ‘So, what do we do in this eternal paradise?’
She raised her eyebrows at him. ‘I’m sure you’ll think of something.’
He pursed his lips. ‘Much as we have a lot of catching-up to do in that department, even I can’t imagine doing it forever. Think of our backs.’
Claire laughed. ‘It’s Heaven, Brian. No more health issues, no more money problems, worrying what the future holds – in fact, no more concerns at all. Just happiness – forever.’
Their daughter ran over and tried to wrap her arms around the two of them. She and Brian grinned at each other.
‘Looks like you can dream of Heaven too. I can’t imagine Lucy actually wanting to be a six-year-old again.’ He turned back to his wife. ‘Which means you’re probably not real either.’
Claire rested her head on his chest. ‘Does it matter?’
Brian took in the unmistakable aroma of her hair and ran his hand through Lucy’s. ‘No. It’s the perfect dream and l never want to wake up from it.’
Lucy seemed to tease him. ‘Come on, Daddy – wake up!’
‘Wake up!’ She had a man’s voice, suddenly. ‘Wake up, Cecil.’
Someone took hold of his hand. His wife, daughter, garden – all were gone.
It was dark.
‘Can you hear me?’
A man.
Brian’s left hand was being shaken. He opened his eyes.
Not dead. Not in Heaven. No longer in the perfect dream. A steady beeping sound could be heard and he started to cry.
‘Do you recognise me?’
Brian squinted in the direction of Professor Savage’s voice. The difference between reality and the dream was unbearable.
‘I just want to die, Professor.’ It hurt, but he gripped the unwelcome visitor’s hand as hard as he could. ‘Please.’
‘Don’t worry, old chap. All in good time. There’s something I need to check first.’
Savage held up what appeared to be a pair of 3D virtual reality glasses. Brian looked at them through his tears in disbelief.
‘You woke me from my perfect dream to play some stupid game?’
Savage tried to reassure him. ‘It’s just a sleep mask. It’s important not to be distracted by any light.’
Brian wanted to become angry, but he was too weak. ‘Then what?’
‘Then I’ll ask you a few questions and that will be it.’
‘I can tell you my name and the year just as easily with my eyes closed.’
‘They won’t be the questions. And I need you to perform a few simple tasks too – indulge me for a few moments, if you will.’
Brian turned his attention to the machine making the monotonous sound. The rate of it picked up. ‘And what will you do for me in return?’
Savage looked at the heart monitor too. ‘Whatever is within my power.’
The machine settled down again.
‘Will Claire and I be together?’
The professor sighed. ‘Not if your treatment is anything to go by, I’m afraid. You clearly needed physical brain matter to remember her again and I don’t think Heaven allows that.’ He studied the deteriorating vital signs. ‘I can help you get back to your dream, though?’
Brian was hardly in a position to argue. ‘Okay. But be warned, any fairground rides and I’ll just be sick on you.’
Savage raised the top third of the bed and slipped the soft cotton blindfold over Brian’s head. ‘Comfortable?’
Brian nodded. Something cold was then placed against his temple. It caused him to become nauseous and a few seconds later, he vomited. The rate of beeping increased. He tried removing the mask but the professor wouldn’t let him.
Brian was stressed. ‘I warned you. I didn’t even see anything that time.’
The beats per minute of the heart monitor reduced – along with the professor’s concern. Brian tried once more to remove the blindfold, but a hand stopped him again. He was too weak to fight and, if anything, the retching had made him weaker.
‘Terribly sorry about that, old chap, but I was afraid you’d refuse if I said you were going to vomit anyway. I just need you to assist me for a few minutes more and then we’ll be done. Let me know when you’re ready.’
Brian’s heart might have been diseased but his cynicism was still healthy. ‘How unusual. A medic keen to keep me in the dark – literally, this time.’
His nausea passed. ‘Okay, Professor – I’m ready.’
‘What can you see?’
Brian shrugged. ‘I’m wearing a mask doing a pretty good job of keeping all the light out – just blackness. Oh, wait a minute. There’s a white dot – down on the right.’
‘Good. I want you to look at it.’
A moment later and the dot had moved to the centre of Brian’s vision.
‘Ooh. Now it’s right in front of me. How did you do that?’
‘Now bring it towards you.’
Brian raised a hand to grab it, but felt his arm being pulled back down to the bed again.
‘It’s not physical. You need to think it closer.’
Brian was just about to ask what the professor meant by that when the blackness became a bright light.
‘That’s too much – pull back or push it away.’
The bright light went back to being a white dot, then another bright light, before Brian got the hang of what he was supposed to be doing. The home page of the hospital’s website filled his vision. He groaned.
‘Another bloody portable television.’
He pulled the sleep mask off. The web page stayed where it was. Brian closed his eyes, but it was still there. He panicked and the heart monitor’s alarm went off.
‘It won’t go away! Make it go away!’
The professor grabbed him. ‘Stay calm. Move your eyes rapidly in any direction.’
Fear made Brian do that anyway. The web page reduced to a small white dot somewhere in the lower right periphery of his vision. The crash team burst through the door just as Brian’s anxiety had started to reduce. Savage waved them away. The alarm ceased of its own accord and the team left the room.
‘That was just about my worst nightmare. I hate modern technology.’ Brian pointed towards his iPad. ‘That thing’s bad enough, but at least it’s got something on it worth seeing.’ He smiled at the current image of his wife, but then tutted as it rolled over to the next. ‘See?’
Savage picked up the tablet, tapped the screen a couple of times, and then introduced his phone to one of the edges. He turned the iPad back towards its owner. The screen was now black save for a small white dot in the bottom right-hand corner of it.
Brian harrumphed. He glanced at the dot in his own field of view and scoffed again. Curiosity got the better of him and he was soon not just seeing but controlling his favourite images of Claire – just by thinking about them. He smiled as he was finally able to view her photographs in any order and for however long he wanted.
‘This is more like it – much more sensible. What did you call this?’
Savage checked the vital signs again. ‘Augmented consciousness. It enables the user of an electronic device to operate it by thought alone. Should do very well when it’s made available to the public next year.’
Brian produced the eye movements necessary to reduce the vi
sions back to a dot.
‘Device?’
The professor thought for a moment. ‘Portable televisions.’
His guinea pig looked at him. ‘But won’t they have to go through some kind of brain surgery first?’
Savage grinned and widened his eyes. ‘Oh, yes.’
Brian went back to the photograph album. He decided to settle on a black and white studio portrait of his family – taken some time around the mid-sixties, judging by the length of the skirts. Tears were soon flowing freely again. He searched for the professor’s hand and grabbed it.
‘Please. Do it now.’
Savage began keeping to his side of the agreement. He disabled the heart monitor’s alarm.
The smartphone was placed against Brian’s temple again. Within a few seconds, Brian’s eyelids flickered, as did the iPad image of his family. The vital signs on the monitor reduced. Brian closed his eyes for the last time and the screen on the iPad went black with just the white dot visible in the bottom right-hand corner of it. The phone began displaying the neural activity the professor was looking for – all signs indicated Brian Passen would be breathing his last in the next minute or so.
Savage let go of Brian’s hand. The fingers were turning blue. Brian’s breathing became more erratic as the professor continued to hold the smartphone in position while alternating his attention between it and the closed eyes. He was waiting for something to happen and, if it didn’t in the next few seconds, it never would.
‘Come on, old chap. You can do it.’
Brian’s eyes twitched under their lids, which corresponded to an increase in activity on the phone. Savage began transferring Brian’s subconscious to the hospital’s mainframe.
What looked to be lights flashed across the screen of the iPad. The vital signs on the heart monitor flatlined, and the professor noted the time of death once he was sure Brian was no longer breathing and his heart had stopped. The now decaying brain activity was still being transferred, though it would all be white noise unless coherent dreaming began, and that was something the professor had yet to fully understand, let alone gain control of.
The flashing lights on the iPad morphed into an image and Savage breathed a sigh of relief. It was of a garden. There was a barbecue and the woman and child standing next to it ran towards the observer.
It took another minute for the professor to be satisfied with everything he came for, but he continued to hold his phone against the head of the cadaver until all the neural activity in it had ceased. Savage then disabled the link to the iPad, but not before confirming Brian appeared to be pleased with the outcome of his trial too.
Savage pondered how best to ensure the authorities would allow a person’s consciousness to remain active after death. The condition would help ease the acceptance of compulsory euthanasia politically, but convincing the clergy would be more of a challenge.
He bent down to his lab rat and kissed it on the forehead. ‘Sweet dreams, Cecil.’
CONDITION
Book Two
The curing begins...…
Discovering an infamous Nazi doctor conducted abortions in Argentina after the Second World War may not come as a surprise, but why was the twisted eugenicist not only allowed to continue his evil experiments but encouraged to do so? And what has that got to do with a respected neurologist in 2027? Surely the invention of a cure for nearly all the world’s ailments can’t possibly have its roots buried in the horrors of Auschwitz?
The unacceptable is about to become the disturbingly bizarre. What has the treatment’s ‘correction’ of paedophiles got to do with the President of the United States, the Pope, and even the UK’s Green Party?
As if the CONDITION trilogy wasn’t unsettling enough.