Surgeon's report-
Jaldeja arrived with final payment today- the operation is unprecedented and dangerous,
but the patient is both adamant and well financed.
The procedure will involve the use of experimental cyber and biotechnology, co-developed
by Jal and myself, along with the implantation of a mutant bio-organism into Jal's cerebral
cortex.
Jal rejects my repeated inquiries pertaining to the creature's nature, but I can only assume
it's artificial. I have seen such things many times before, albeit ones not quite as
sophisticated. Usually such manufactured beasts are good only for adornment,
neurologically programmed for only a few simple movements or responses to stimuli. In
addition to his other talents, Jal must be a geneticist and neuroartificer of no small talent.
The cybernetic component of the device will consist of a chemical reader that can interpret
the hormones released by the organism and convert them to electromagnetic impulses that
can be received and understood by the synaptic receivers of others to a distance of about
ten meters, causing their brains to imitate the thought processes of the sender. This
mechanical portion also contains a large memory component or 'gallery' where various real
or imagined experiences can be stored for later sending. In this fashion, the sender can
project images, memories, ideas, or any thought process into the mind of another, allowing
them to experience it with him.
*
"If I understand you correctly," Dr. Pendle says, putting away his recorder, "you want to
stay awake during the proceedure. I don't think that's advisable- this will be difficult enough
without the possibility of shock."
The room they stand in is just behind the main office- it's small, perfectly clean and white,
taking up only the rear portion of the building- just enough room for the two of them to
stand there with the examining table.
Jal eases himself up on the table, staring at the doctor intently. "I want to remain awake-
this transition will be the first image in my gallery."
Dr. Pendle nods. "Very well. The transmitter will be able to be activated half way through
the operation- don't broadcast anything while I'm working. Also, if you want to experience
any coherent thought at all, I'd suggest at least a local anesthetic- it won't affect your
cognitive functions, but it will keep you from noticing any debilitating pain."
Jal nods and Dr. Pendle reaches into his pocket, pulling out a synaptic inhibitor patch and
smoothing it onto Jal's skin.
"That should take effect shortly," he said. "It doesn't only block pain, but will also make it
difficult for you to move. This is a delicate operation, and I can't have you twitching or
moving suddenly. While we're waiting, I'll get ready in here."
Jal watches as the doctor opens a door and disappears for a moment into a closet-sized
room. When he comes out, he's wearing what appears to be over-sized gloves and two
round, black patches that cover his eyes. "I'll be with you in moment," he says, his hands
weaving through the air. "The Assistant is calibrating."
The sound of hissing air fills the room as the Assistant emerges from the small room,
spinning effortlessly through the air. Jet black and a meter in diameter, it has several
graceful tentacle arms that each ends in a different sensor or surgical device. Rising to a
height of two meters, it hovers over Jal on the table, slowly lowering until it's only several
centimeters above him.
"The inhibitors are active," he says, his hands moving sharply through the air, head moving
quickly back and forth. "First incision."
A series of clicks as lenses on the Assistant adjust. A surgical laser moves forward from its
place, firing a thin beam of energy at Jal's forehead.
Jal watches, fascinated, as the machine makes its minute adjustments- a narrow spectrum
of heat and pain moves slowly over his skull. Reflexively, he tries to move his arm in the
way of the beam, but can't. Neither can he scream.
"Second incision now."
The pain's focal point becomes narrower, moving over his temple, then back over his scalp.
"Third incision now."
A thin trail of smoke curls up in the air over him, a smell burnt and sweet.
"Final incision now. Preparing suction."
The point of sensation moves down his other temple while a manipulator arm and a thin
hose that hisses moves forward from the Assistant. The burning stops, replaced by a
diminishing throb.
Jal feels a slight tug at this forehead, followed by a sensation of euphoria as a section of
his skull is lifted away. The hissing sound is replaced by a watery gargle.
"Installing transponder now."
Jal sees the laser firing again, feeling no physical pain, but after a few moments,
indescribable peace as his ego is burned away. No desire to move, no desire to
accomplish what he has striven for so long- not even a desire for Pendle to stop the
operation now.
The suction sound continues.
"Reintegrating holographic synaptic matrix."
As he says this, Pendle's hands weave gently through the air- slow and smooth, then with
rapid, precise motion. As he does so, the various instruments of the Assistant ease or dart
forward singly and in unison, disappearing out of Jal's upper vision. A thousand bright
lights flash behind his open eyes as his self-awareness falls back into place, like a
pointillism done rapidly, seemingly at random until the dots jump from gibberish into
meaning, the picture suddenly clear.
"Alternate neural pathways established- holographic integrity at 98%- not bad, not bad."
Dr. Pendle seems to be staring through Jal, through the dark plastic disks over his eyes.
"Synaptic incorporation of the Transceiver commencing now. Incorporation- complete.
Less than two tenths of one percent further holographic degradation."
In the back of his mind, Jal felt his beautiful creature stirring from its resting place on his
neck, it's intelligence trapped in its delicate, blind shell. Growing small tendrils to move, it
gropes toward Jal's open skull. Curling around the machine it finds there, it secretes a
fibrous material that spreads into the surrounding tissue.
Dr. Pendle wears a look of puzzlement beneath his goggles as the electro-chemical
signature of Jal's brain shifts, the colors marking the areas of activity slowly settling into a
fractal pattern. This shift was upsetting the brain's chemical balance- soon activity in other
sections was flickering, then dying out altogether- Jal had stopped breathing- his heart
fluttered weakly then died as well.
Taking a deep breath, the Doctor raised his fist, then slammed it into his palm. A bolt of
energy jumped from the assistant to Jal's chest, making his eyes fly open, his mouth
gasping for air.
"Try to be calm," the Doctor says. "Don't move- I'll close you up, then we'll get you off the
table.
Jal had no wish to move, even if he had been able. With his conscious and subconscious
combined in his waking mind, the world had taken on the vivid aspect of a dream, and it
had never seemed so real.