M. L. Weber


from Sophie's Choice

  

Sophie, an overweight lab rat, sniffed the air. As her whiskers twitched to find an opening in the pitch dark maze, a microdot planted deep in her cerebellum relayed brain stress patterns to a nearby computer.

The maze was filled with complex hazards triggered by these patterns, such as scented electromagnetic fields, holograms, and even micro-animated opponents. Though food was still a reward, it was rat psychodrama, not a mere "get to the cheese" problem.

Sophie was one of the best, and her success showed in her bulky figure.

A bell sounded. The rat had reached its goal.

Joshua Quinn woke at his desk and looked at the clock: 5:16 a.m. He ran a hand through tousled blonde hair and wrote the time and the date, 10/05/15, in a notebook next to scattered sheets of mathematical symbols he'd scribbled earlier.

Not that he had to note it for the laboratory--the main computer took care of that, but this was an interesting experiment for a change, and Josh was curious enough to keep a running tab of Sophie's results. The bell was unnecessary except to keep Quinn awake; he had set it himself. And if not napping at least it alerted him to take a break from his own thoughts which he tended to get lost in.

Josh, the "rat man," was low on the totem pole. He could have put "computer-tech" on a card if he had a card, but that wasn't any better than garbageman these days--everyone and his sister was a computer-tech.

Joshua reached into the end of the maze and retrieved the rat. He was the only one who called her Sophie, and he thought she knew her name though it was hard to tell. This was her last test series. She'd perhaps be cloned, certainly killed and autopsied. At least he didn't have to do that sort of thing.

"There you go," Josh said and placed her in a separate cage from the others. He picked up a bit of dried pineapple from the trail mix he munched and gave her a last treat.

Sophie took it from his fingers but didn't eat it right away. She put it down, stood on her hind legs, and looked up at him as if wondering why the treat and the new cage.

"It's ok, Sophie," he said. "Go ahead and eat."

These weren't like the rats he'd worked with in college, they were smarter, because of a hint of a human-like cortex thanks to a new genome combination. So being the "rat-man" in this lab wasn't like the old days in the previous century.

Quinn had to take care of the feeding and clean the cages, though even that was simplified to some extent because of rat cooperation. Of course the rats didn't take out their own garbage. But somehow, without reward or instruction, they arranged a new sort of rat society.

Josh turned away and opened a door to a closet where Clement, the owner of the lab, allowed him to keep some rats of his own. They looked the same as the other rats but had more sophisticated microdots that he'd designed. He never killed them as he had no need in his experiments for autopsies. One called Randolph figured in his current project.

Randolph's special microdot, which doubled as synapse connective tissue, enabled Josh to see for a brief moment through the rat's mind, but there were problems. The connection was tenuous and very brief. It lasted only a fraction of a second since the computer involved had to be so small--on

the level of the nanometer, the length of four atoms end to end--

that molecular vibration alone broke it apart shortly after initiation.

Fortunately it could quickly be replaced with another module so some work could proceed.

Josh placed the rat into the scent box. He donned a helmet that contained a synapse-field interface enabling a human wearer to crudely connect to Randolph's mental sensations. A better connection could be achieved by implanting the human with a microdot, but the helmet was sufficient for now to simulate what might someday be possible if there were a way to avoid the vibration problem.

As yet, some of the visual data and a hint of the emotions were the only reactions that could be experienced through the device. If rats had thoughts, the interface was too short-lived to catch one.

Quinn told a computer to begin a previously encoded sequence. Separate from the main lab computer, this computer controlled his experiments, built synthetic cells, and maintained itself in a jar of sugar water; it was a literal "think tank". He called it “Thea.” Josh had often talked to Thea as if she were a pet, but now with the added hardware and programming he'd done she respond beyond asking simple questions. Before, she'd always kept silent when he muttered non-technical sentences.

Too bad he didn't have any extra time tonight. Sophie's last run had taken a chunk of the night because of the final demands they'd placed upon her. Most nights he had two or three hours in which to work uninterrupted by the lab schedules.

Tonight he'd try a flower scent. Could a rat experience such an aesthetic pleasure as the scent of a rose? Quinn guessed that at least these super-rats could.

But his quest was not to develop a rat perfume. It could be a way to connect man to the natural world, and the mathematics involved things he'd done as a child prodigy. It would be gratifying to finally get back on track after almost twenty years.

He had spent months convincing his boss Jim Clement to finance this research. Finally Quinn had persauded him that in the long run it could be a nano-technological breakthrough and in the short run might gain valuable patents. Josh had to sign a contract ensuring that such patents would be proprietary to Clement Laboratories.

Randolph's sniff of a rose scent didn't seem to affect him. Perhaps it was the wrong kind of rose. Sometimes these synthesized scents seemed off to Quinn's nose too. He removed the helmet and set the encoder to re-record the synapse track for a "mood" tape.

As he transferred Randolph to the re-fitting cage, Mr Clement came in the door, hung up his expensive suit coat, and threaded his way through the lab's dilapidated furniture and equipment back to Quinn.

"You're here early," Josh said.

"Yeah, the damn feds want another report by tomorrow," Clement said sleepily, then poured his usual at the coffee machine. "Any problems last night?”

“No, just routine.”

“No more great discoveries?" Clement asked. "Nothing to write home about yet.”

“What's the holdup, my boy?"

Clement was only seven or so years older than Quinn but he continually called him "my boy"--he seemed to want to settle into comfortable curmudgeonhood as soon as possible and was aided in this by his scant hair going snow-white beneath a bald pate.

"Doesn't look like that expensive helmet design is worth much," Clement continued irritably. "I don't see how it relates to your stasis structure idea anyway. We've got the cell cluster. Work on that. Don't have any more tangential ideas. I'm not going to pay to have them fabricated."

Josh was not surprised by this attitude. Clement's character lolled from barely tolerable to ulcer-creating.

"It may not be patentable since its close to that Japanese prototype," Quinn replied after a moment, "but you liked the idea at the time, and you can't gripe about the price.”

“It's still expensive to me even if your electronics-wiz friend Best did donate his time. The patent lawyers are bleeding me dry--do you realize how much they charged just to tell me the helmet was already sewn up?" Clement's forehead veins bulged dangerously.

Josh let him subside rather than answer that he'd heard the amount a hundred times.

"Did you try the scent experiment tonight?" Clement asked.

"Yes, but the brain placement may be faulty.”

“No nerve indication?”

“That's what I mean," Josh said, "no sign of an aroma.”

“Don't you have another one fitted?”

“No, we're behind schedule. The surgery computer messed up before I came on shift. That's why I think this one was misplaced. Anyway I'm too beat to do another right now." Clement nodded as he studied the computer screen, running the chart graphics. Josh put on his coat to head home for a couple of hours sleep, the most he could ever sleep at one time. During a routine 24 hours his naps totaled 4 or 5 hours, yet he seemed no worse for wear. Dana said he had a cat's brain. He liked to have the freedom to blink out for a few minutes on the odd moment whenever he felt the need for a recharge.

"Good luck on your report," Josh said as he waved goodbye.

"Right," Clement said distractedly. "Have a good weekend."



***


Arriving home, Quinn stepped in the door quietly so as not to wake Dana. She'd been more moody lately, so he was especially careful. They'd always slept in twin beds since she had normal sleep habits.

Now with this night job and her at work by day he'd wished they could afford a larger place. The residential areas were being covered with domes to conserve and capture water, and the city would enforce new codes when that happened. Though if he added another room, it might cut down the tension. Dana was difficult not todisturbb.



But this morning he heard her in the kitchen, up already. She must be excited about going to that psychic fair of hers. He'd agreed to go along, but today he wanted to nap before leaving. He had a habit of two hours sleep after work. No good trying to sleep in the car, besides it wasn't quite that far.

Though he would have preferred to yell he was home and gone to straight to bed, Dana gave him no chance since when he came in she poked her head out of the kitchen alcove. She looked disgruntled.

"Why didn't you do these dishes last night?" she said.

"I had to go out early, Miss Garcia." Annoyed, Quinn said it as if talking to his first grade teacher, then he dropped this tone to one of apology and said, "Sorry, but Jenny called about--”

“--You know I have errands this morning. You can't leave dishes in the sink for three days, the roaches would go crazy." "Sorry," he said. Better just dash for the bedroom.

"Josh?" she asked before he could escape. "You still going?”

“Yes, but I need to get that nap. I'm tired," he said and wondered why she asked. "Is that ok?”

“Sure, go ahead. I just wanted to know for certain. You don't have to go." Josh felt too tired to try to guess whether she meant it but despite that he tried. He decided she did want him to go but wanted it to be his descision. But his desire was to please her, not himself, so he kept standing there and said more. "I know," he assured her. "I'd like to get out of town for a change." Dana's dark eyes still didn't seem mollified. Before she could complain again he handed her the car keys. "Well, I've got to shut my glassies, you'll need these. If you want to leave those dishes I'll do them before we go. We need to leave at 9, right?" She took the keys without a word and continued the dishes. Quinn headed for the bedroom. He thought of a shower but when he sat on the bed it felt too good to leave. He was undressed and under the covers when Dana came in and rummaged through the closet.

"Are you packed?" she asked.

"Yep.”

“Where's your bag?”

“I put the tent and my stuff in the car last night," he said. He wondered how a person could always be unhappy and moody in the morning, even on a weekend she had planned.

"Did you get the message from Corinne?" Josh asked since she continued searching the closet and he wanted her to get out of her driven-likebehaviorr.

"Yes," Dana replied curtly She put her bag on her bed and struggled to zip it shut. "Damn," she muttered. Finally it closed. "Please make up your bed when you get up." "Ok, ok," he said at the edge of tolerance. He remembered when she kept finding things to clean one morning in order to avoid going with him to



visit some of his friends. After it was too late to go he told her that the next time she should just say she didn't want to go. But humans are complex. Here he was going to this fair to try to keep this relationship alive and he suspected that she suspected that he was doing it for that



reason. Maybe she had some kind of guilt about that instead of

appreciating his effort. Maybe she didn't really want him to go. That's a thought. A new thought for the New Thought Festival. Maybe the Mha, her favorite guru, has decided to go and she now doesn't care if I go. He

opened his eyes at the speculation.

She was in the bathroom,exasperatedd. "You haven't got your toothbrush and things packed."

"That's because I have to shave before I go." How much could he take?

Still, he wanted her to calm down so he said to distract her, "Where's Mha this weekend?"

"I told you," Dana replied and emerged with her case.

"Mha Funn is at a conference. Why do you ask?"

"Just wondered.”

“Just wondered about your favorite object of ridicule?"

"No. I don't ridicule him, I just make observations.”

“You've got to catch up with the rest of the world, Josh. Your objective observations are just cynicism. Even your heroes the Japanese are fire-walking these days. You can't explain everything. How do thousands of them walk across red-hot electric fire without burning up?" "The theory is that a water vapor layer forms--”

“--So how come the clothing doesn't burn?" she interrupted. "Their clothing doesn't burn, but if you hold a cloth over the heat it will burst into flames. Huh? Answer--how that can be?"

"Well, I haven't seen it.”

“So why don't you go there? It might enlighten you," she exclaimed.

"Right now I have to go to sleep," he said as calmly as possible and pulled the covers over his head.

***


"Take off their clothes!" Bethany yelled over the din of chanting voices. Two large men walked toward a handsome couple who stood alone in the middle of the room. Named Dave and Nancy, they were surprised but not especially fearful since they knew the men and they knew Bethany--the men were her bodyguards. They'd seen strange things occur at Bethany's gatherings before but they'd only observed, not been selected.

Perhaps Bethany was only playing, or perhaps she was trying to break through their inhibitions. Later, the true believers would use such justifications to soften the story.

Dave looked nonplussed, but he reacted quickly when one of the men moved to seize Nancy, his lover, a tall beauty with shiny blonde hair. In a martial pose, he tried to step in front of her. But the other man tripped him from behind, and Dave fell into their tight grip.

Bethany nodded and pointed to Dave, who, though he struggled mightily, was too small to overcome the men's expert pressure holds. He vented his rage with obscenities.

"Kali," she said, "see to it."

A tough-looking woman, Kali rose on her heavy, muscular thighs to obey Bethany's orders. She towered over Dave, silencing him by her presence, roughly unbuttoned his shirt and slipped off his pants, shoes, and underwear at the same time, shucking him naked except for the blue silk shirt pushed back around his shoulders. The crowd, including Dana, stared raptly but continued chanting along with the taped voices of the meditation music that had a slow, hypnotic pulse. Joshua sat quietly beside Dana but had stopped repeating the words. He was disgusted.

Dave began to curse again as Kali turned to look at Bethany, who then pointed to the woman. If her son the Mha were here, she thought, he would have made a joke of this. But some of the people liked darker overtones as did Bethany, a lonely soul who seldom laughed.

But her son would at least have the crowd laughing; he might even have been able to neutralize Dave's anger, perhaps by tickling him as he was stripped.

Kali was less sure of how to undress Nancy. After some hesitation, she began by slowly taking off the woman's sandals and caressing the feet, then the ankles, then the calves, almost as if she were a lover.

Meanwhile, Bethany was annoyed with Dave, who continued to try to shout foul language over the voices and music. She tapped the shoulder of a lovely, voluptuous woman beside her who she knew attracted Dave and sent her up to him with some whispered instructions.

Men always have to be in control, Bethany thought. Why couldn't Dave accept his fate without pretending to be even more outraged now that Nancy was the one being undressed. Actually he was just trying to cover his ownembarrassmentt.

Men don't give a damn. Another woman will soon calm him down. It's fake, he doesn't really care about Nancy. Women can feel something for each other, but men leave you high and dry. She'd been left often enough to know.

That abuse, she remembered what had been done to her as she watched Dave being caressed by the woman she'd sent, then she closed her eyes and fell back into the chanting.

By this time, Kali's job was almost done. Nancy had worn a green denim blouse, no bra, a simple, black skirt, no nylons. The skirt had come off easily, and, like Dave's shirt, Kali unbuttoned the blouse and pushed it back over the shoulders. The only clothing that remained was the panties.

Nancy had retreated into silence and kept her eyes downcast. She didn't even resist now by crossing her legs but only slumped back in the grip of the bodyguards. Kali bent over and slipped the panties to the floor.

Both Dave and Nancy were exquisite physical specimens, but they wilted before the audience's intensity. Bethany noted Joshua slip out the side door, and that Dana was still in her place.

Kali had an idea. She turned to Dave and released him from the voluptuous woman's strokings. He was silent now and openlyembarrassedd to be hoisted up in his present arousal. When Kali motioned the bodyguards to bring him toward his lover, Nancy became hysterical. She laughed insanely. Though her laugh was more like a scream, many in the crowd giggled.

"Adam and Eve!" Bethany proclaimed as the men brought the couple together.