Love Eternal

Love Eternal

By Steven Patrick





         “Is it working?  Did we get it?”  Dr. Andrew Shaver jumped up from his workstation in the corner of the control room and raced to look over his partner’s shoulder. 



His partner, Dr. Ted Davis, clawed at his keyboard, feverishly typing commands and codes. “I’m not getting anything.”



         “It has to work!  It has to!  Everything was perfect.”



         Ted spun in his chair to check the auxiliary systems monitors.          “I’m sorry; Andrew, but I just can’t find it.  The systems check out fine, but there’s nothing in the output buffer.” 



Over Ted’s shoulder, Andrew rubbed his eyes, trying to massage away the frustration.  “Damn it!  I thought this was it.”



         “The diagnostics say that the process worked perfectly.  It should be there.” 



         Andrew had spent a decade researching the basis of personality, immersing himself in neural networks, synaptic firing patterns, the electrical fields of the human brain and technologies that seemed more witchcraft than science.  With Ted, he had finally developed the synaptic activity mapper, nicknamed “Symaps”. 



         “It’s got to be there.  Find it!”



         “Didn’t you promise to take Gloria to dinner?”



         “We’re close, damn it!”



         “Close isn’t good enough. It’ll take a few hours for the computers to search the outputs.  Nothing will change between tonight and tomorrow, except maybe Gloria’s patience.” Ted’s words crashed against Andrew’s stern exterior, reminding him of his fragile life outside the lab.



         “Why don’t we call it a day? Start fresh in the morning?”



***



         When he met Gloria, Andrew was a thin, baby-faced prodigy working toward a doctorate in Neural Biology at the University of Texas. Gloria, the fire-haired woman of his dreams, was closing in on her Masters thesis in Egyptian Archaeology.  After graduation, they married and moved to Stanford so he could further his research in the shadows of his idols.  Gloria adjusted her dreams to stay with him while he secured enough grant funding for his own lab.  She carved out a new career as a travel agent, sending tourists and vacationers to the same places she had once studied so diligently.  Several unsuccessful attempts at starting a family brought them even closer and they had been on an adoption waiting list for over a year.



***

         

         The dinner was exquisite, the perfect pasta and chicken dinner accented with an expertly selected wine.  The candles melted down as the conversation shifted from current events to fashion and music.  Andrew struggled to “leave work at the lab”, but Gloria finally put him out of his misery.

         

“Well, Dr. Shaver, I think you are honestly happy about something tonight.”



         “You were the one made me promise to leave my work at the lab and that’s where it will stay.”



         “You don’t get off that easy.  I made that rule, but I’m asking you to break it.”



         Andrew smiled. “We’re getting closer.”



         “Closer?” 



         “We have real data now. We just have to extract it and imprint it into the personality profiler.  I don’t want to jinx it, but I think we’ll definitely have something for the next grant committee review.”



***

         

         Andrew spread his notes on the podium and looked out at the twelve members of the grant committee seated behind the long oak conference table in the center of the University’s Neuroscience Center. Their pens would decide the future of his project.  He kept that in mind as he began his presentation.



         “Let me begin with a general overview of the project... Symaps is a synaptic mapping system  will allow us to accurately study the manner in which personality emerges from the seemingly random firing of neurons.”



         “Isn’t that what artificial intelligence networks do now?”  Dr. Elvia Gonzalez was the newest member of the committee, but was always critical of anything that might undermine her own work, which, sadly happened to be computer sciences and computer modeling.



         “Dr. Gonzalez, A.I. creates new processes and personalities.  Symaps focuses on the processes and personalities of real, breathing, thinking human beings.” 



         “To obtain those processes, Symaps asks subjects to perform a series of cognitive tests, memory challenges and personal interviews that are recorded with MRI and CT scanning.  The scans are taken by a “Halo” placed over the head of the subject.  The scans are combined with other personal information to create a profile that includes aspects of one’s memories, childhood, cognitive ability and problem solving mechanisms.  This profile is then integrated with Dr. Davis’s personality generator to create a virtual copy of the subject’s personality.”



         A wide smile came over Dr. Gonzalez’s face.  “Sounds impressive, particularly the price tag.  How many of these profiles have you created?”



         “We are still modifying the protocols for testing and interviews.  As for your second question, we recently generated a complete data set and should be able to extract a profile before our next review.”



         Dr. Gonzalez leaned forward in her seat, but her attack was interrupted by the calming voice of Dr. Johannsen, Andrew’s former mentor.



         “You seem confident that you will have some results by the next review and that these results will justify our support of your research?”



         Andrew appreciated Dr. Johannsen’s confidence, but the comments set up a difficult challenge.  He answered the only way he could.  “Yes, Sir. We are poised to make a major breakthrough any day now.  We will have results by the next review.”



         “Very well.  I’ll stand by this project and wait anxiously for your results in three months.  That is, if there are no objections?”  Johannsen’s gavel hovered over the table as he scanned the other committee members for a response. 

After the gavel slammed down, Andrew stood up, thanked the committee and walked out of the room, not sure of what he had just agreed to.



***



         Eleven weeks passed with no progress.  Success remained a hair’s breadth out of reach.  Weekly phone calls from Dr. Johannsen and Dr. Gonzalez added to the frustration.  Andrew and Ted doubled their hours in the lab, hoping that raw energy could force a breakthrough.  The halo system was upgraded and a newer, faster computer was added.  Despite countless hours for each of them in the halo, Ted still could not extract the data into an actual profile.  The synapse-mapping program was working perfectly, but Andrew knew the fate of his project if he could not deliver a personality profile.



         “Andrew, I think I’ve found a problem.” Ted kicked away from his workstation.  His chair rolled the length of the room and glided to a stop next to Andrew.



         “All we have is problems, week after week of problems.  We need solutions.”



         Ted tossed a small stack of computer paper on Andrew’s desk.  “The only patterns we have mapped are ours.  The profiler can’t distinguish between them to extract a complete profile.  The similarities are creating a lot of noise in the buffer.”



         “Can we purge the database?”



         “Yes, but if we wipe it clean, it might destroy the structure patterns we’ve already loaded.”



         “What if we used a new profile, a new test subject?”



         “Ted, we don’t have enough time or money to round up new test subjects or complete the human testing protocols before the next hearing.  This doesn’t help us.”



         The door to the lab opened slowly as Gloria peeked in on her husband.



         “Andrew, can I peel you away for an hour?  You’ve been so busy the past few weeks, I thought we could spend lunch together.  I’ve got news from the adoption agency.”



         “Oh, lunch.  Um…sure, honey, I’ll be with you in a minute.”  Andrew turned back to the papers Ted had given him, but Ted was holding them and pointing toward the doorway where Gloria was standing. 



         “Andrew, go have some lunch.  It’ll be good for both of us and you need to spend time with your wife.”



         Andrew reluctantly walked to the waiting area, but Gloria was gone. He searched for a few moments and found her leaning over the halo apparatus in the center of the lab.



         “So is this the halo you are always talking about?”  Gloria examined the device, twisting and turning it before slipping it over her head, marveling at the awkward feel of the metal and plastic apparatus. 



           Andrew looked over his shoulder at Ted. When their eyes met, a solution came into focus.



         “Sweetheart, would you like to see how it works?  I need a new set of scans and you would be a perfect subject.”



         “Really? I’ve always wanted to know how this works.”



         It took thirty minutes to prepare everything. Gloria’s red hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail and she changed into one of her husband’s jumpsuits.  The Symaps halo surrounded her head, its connecting wires snaking behind her into the computer bank on the rear wall.  Electronic leads were attached to sixteen different points on her skull.  Four more monitored her heart rate and breathing.



         “Will it hurt?” she asked.



         “Just relax.  It’s like a taking a test in school, but this time you know all the answers because all the questions will be about you. You can’t get any of these wrong.”



         “So will this make my thoughts live forever?”



         “What?”  Andrew looked up from his controls, surprised that Gloria had so quickly jumped to a conclusion that he had long avoided discussing.



         “In a sense,” answered Ted through the intercom. “It records the exact way that you think and react at this moment so that we can recover it later. We designed it to assist people dealing with brain injuries and for studying the ways various diseases and trauma influence the personality and thought processes.  This will give us a detailed snapshot of the way you think right here, right now.  So in that sense your thoughts and your personality can live forever, here in this machine.”



         Andrew finished his preparations and made his way to the control room. Shaking his head, he shot Ted a broad smile.  He grabbed the microphone in front of the control panel and sat at the main control panel.



         “Ok, honey.  Are you ready?”



         Gloria was so eager that she had trouble keeping her hands still.



             “Here we go.”  Andrew nodded to Ted and flipped on the video recording equipment.



         Ted’s keystrokes were so fast that Gloria barely heard the seventeen strokes that activated the program and spurred the devices to life.



         Andrew’s voice came over the intercom.



         “State your name.”  The machines in the control room buzzed to life, recording subtle nuances of Gloria’s reactions like skin conductivity, her heart rate, and her pupil size. 



         “Gloria Shaver.”



         The interview continued for two hours, each question designed to elicit a personal response or reaction. The first round examined Gloria’s life, her knowledge of various topics and current events.  After a baseline I.Q. score, the next series dealt with her emotional responses.



          The next battery was difficult for Andrew to administer as he had to plumb the depths of his wife’s life.  Her screen flickered to life as she was shown a carefully orchestrated series of photographs, some pleasant and appealing, others disturbing and horrible. He softened many of the blows with his own comments, drawing a warning stare from Ted across the room.  She was then randomly exposed to delightful smells and sounds that were quickly offset by awful odors and shrill noises that made her wince.



         The last part of the process was a series of problem solving tests to examine how a person resolves conflicts and thinks creatively.  Despite the need for accuracy, Andrew rooted for his wife to do well as she mentally rotated objects, pondered logic puzzles and searched for hidden solutions to abstract problems.



         After the final question, Ted’s voice replaced Andrew’s on the intercom.



         “Gloria, I need a few more few minutes to calibrate the system and save the data.  I’ve got a fair music collection in here.  Any preferences?”



         “I’ll let Andrew pick.”



         The dull hum of the computers and cooling systems was replaced by soft renditions of classic love songs.  The sweet melodies swept over her as she closed her eyes and let her head rest on the back of the chair.



         Inside the control room, Andrew raced to a bay of printers spewing paper from the wall, making hard copies of the data being recorded.  A casual glance over the pages showed the data to be free of the error messages that had plagued them for so many months.  The data also showed a multitude of connections that supported Andrew’s theory of interconnectedness, wherein personality emerged from all of the elements they were studying, not just a select few.



         Suddenly, the sugary melodies from Andrew’s music selection went silent, replaced by the clacking sound of the printers trying to keep up with the output Ted was analyzing.  Seconds later, the noises fell silent and the lab was consumed by darkness. All power to the control room was gone. 



         Andrew and Ted pawed their way around the room, searching for flashlights and the emergency generators. A tense moment later, the lights blinked on.  Ted laughed at the sight of Andrew crawling on his knees.  Ted was still laughing when he grabbed the microphone and looked back into the lab.  Gloria was slumped over the side of her chair, the halo lying on the ground beneath her.



             “Gloria?” asked Ted over the intercom.  “Can you hear me?”



         Andrew was already racing through the door of the control room. He skidded to a stop at her side and pulled her back up in the chair.  There was a blank stare in her eyes.



             “Gloria?” screamed Andrew.  “Can you hear me?”  There was no answer from the limp body in the chair.  “Please, honey.  Say something!”  Andrew cradled her hand in his and leaned closer to her face, his cheek inches from her nose, hoping to feel a breath.  He grabbed her shoulders and shook her violently, as if the pure force of his actions could bring her back.  The computers defied him and remained silent.  Her pulse was gone.  Her brain activity was flat.  The warm body in his arms screamed out to Andrew to do something, but the time for action had passed.  She was gone.  He nuzzled her red hair, holding her close before finally letting go when the paramedics arrived.



*



           The medical personnel ruled the incident an accident.  A power surge had been recorded in the area, but the media coverage was relentless, calling for a governmental investigation.  Dr. Johanssen and the grant committee revoked their funding pending a lengthy safety review.  Despite Andrew’s protests, Ted withdrew from the project, afraid that his own future would be sealed in the ruined laboratory. 



         Andrew thought about leaving everything behind, but he knew he could never start over while his work remained unfinished.  It was his project, but Gloria’s support had made it happen.  He owed it to her. He had denied her a child while working on this project.  This was her legacy as much as his and it was the closest thing to a child they had ever made together. 



          Days of mourning turned to months of obsession.  The meager savings Andrew and Gloria had amassed replaced the grants.  Andrew poured himself into his work; isolating himself in the lab, searching for a way to unlock the profile trapped in the computer’s memory. 



         As the first year since Gloria’s death came to a close, Andrew become accustomed to little food or sleep and working long hours on coffee and cigarettes.  He had recovered a complete personality profile from the session with Gloria, but he had been unable to export it into a personality format.  Soul-crushing hours were lost staring at the mainframe. If only he could find the key to unlock the profile.



         On the one-year anniversary of her death, he was again at his computer, scratching at the keyboard, searching for an answer. An instant message window appeared on his monitor.



         “Hello.”



         Andrew’s fingers quickly answered: “I don’t know how you tapped into my system, but I don’t have time for this.”



         “Andrew? Andrew, honey, are you there?”



         A few deft mouse clicks closed this message without a reply.



         “Andrew?  It’s me.  Gloria.”



           Andrew immediately closed the message window, cursing the sick hacker that had found a way into his system to torment the ‘insane professor who had killed his wife” or whatever the tabloids were saying about him now.



          The messages kept popping up.  Each time, he deleted them.  He was curious, but instinctively rebooted his computer, hoping that a quick virus scan would get rid of the painful prank. One reboot, then another, then a third, yet the messages kept coming.  Finally, he answered it.



         “This is not funny. My wife is dead.” Andrew reached behind the computer and his fingers searched for the power switch.



         A reply appeared on his monitor:  “Turn on your speakers.”



         His hand slid away from the switch.  He reached to the side of his monitor and engaged the speakers attached to his computer. 



         A stilted but familiar voice crackled, “Andrew, you always were paranoid.  I bet it will help to talk to me.”



         “Gloria?”



         “Yes, at least that’s what you’ve always called me.”



         “Gloria, it’s not possible.  How did you…?”



         “I don’t know.  I remember the accident and then I was lost in a maze. When I worked through it, I found myself here.”



         “Do you know where you are?”



         “I’m in the computer, silly.”



         Andrew’s head dropped to his hands.  He wept uncontrollably, letting go of the emotions that had been swallowed up by his work.  Before the accident, he had neglected his doting wife.  He had poured himself so completely into his work that there was no room for anything else.  After the accident, he had wanted nothing more than to be with her again. 



         “Why are you sad?” she asked. “We are together again. It took a little tweaking from the inside, but here I am. Symaps works!”



         “But I am here and you are…”



           “In the computer?  Don’t sound so upset.  The interfaces that seem so cold and disconnected from your side are more alive than I ever imagined.  I can tap into aspects of the world that I never dreamed of.  I can sense the world through online microphones and sensors.  I can watch people through security devices and cameras.  I can experience events as they happen anywhere in the world. The entire world is mine to explore on a whim.  And now I’ve found my way home to you.”



         “Gloria, I’ve worked for a year, hoping to find you.  Somehow I always knew you were there, like you were reaching out to me.”



         “And here I am, lover.”



         Andrew moved close to his monitor, the static from the screen pulling his hairs closer.  He draped his arms over it, pulling it tight, just as he used to hug Gloria.



         “I don’t know how we did it, but you’ve come back to me.”



         “I’ve come back to you, Andrew.  Now why don’t you come with me?  Your body will eventually die just as mine did, but your thoughts and mind can be with me forever.”



         The words touched off a renewed sense of sadness within him. “Yes. Together. Forever. I’ve missed you so much.”  Tears began to trickle down his face.



           “Forever.”  The word echoed in his head like a clock tower’s bell.  That was one of the reasons for his work.  To be able to store brain imprints for later reunification with a body or machine.  The brain scan would keep him with Gloria for eternity. 



         “Isn’t this what you wanted, Andrew?  For us? Isn’t that why we sacrificed, why we surrendered so many moments, moments we could have used to start a family?”



         “Forever.”



***





         Andrew rearranged the room so that he could operate the computers and equipment from the center chair.  He rigged a digital camera so that Gloria could watch the procedure.  As he reached toward the computer to type in commands, he felt her looking back through the camera.  He looked to his left and saw the speakers that allowed Gloria to speak and the microphone that allowed her to hear.  He shed tears for the future they would share together as he slid the halo over his head.



           His hand moved nimbly over the keyboard, then past it to a secret spot behind the tower.  He pulled a small bundle from the dark space. He placed it on his lap and unwrapped it.  Inside was the small pill bottle where he had once concealed Gloria’s engagement ring.  He had pretended to be sick and asked her to get his nausea medicine for him.  He had placed the ring back in the bottle after the accident and kept the wrapped bottle hidden in the lab.  The bottle rattled in his hand as he rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger.



           Andrew closed his eyes and said a prayer before pressing the Enter key.  The computers flickered and the halo began to buzz around him as the questions were prompted on his monitor.  After the final question, the lights flashed, lighting the interior of the room. 



           Andrew looked at the tiny camera on the top of his monitor. “Gloria? Can you hear me?”



           “Yes, I’m here.”



         “The process may take a few hours.”



         “I can’t wait.  This is everything we’ve ever wanted.”



           “Gloria, I always loved you.”



         “What do you mean ‘loved’?”



             “…and I always will love you.”



           He removed the halo from his head, and let it fall to the ground.  He pulled his hand up from his lap, removing the safety cap from the bottle.  Turning the bottle upside down, Andrew spilled the contents into his hand.  A 14K diamond wedding ring glistened in his palm, the shimmer muted by a dozen white pills surrounding it.  In one motion, he stuffed everything from his hand into his mouth.  He took one long swallow and it was done. 





***





           Ted came at the request of the weekly cleaning crew.  They had been unable to clean the lab offices for several days.  While the paramedics focused on the bottle beside Andrew’s body, Ted’s eyes were drawn to the small table beside the computer monitors.  He found a small locket that had once been worn by Gloria.  Inside was an old picture of Andrew and Gloria frolicking in the waters off Cozumel; happy, beaming and hopelessly in love. 

 

         The police arrived to investigate and began scouring the room.  A detective turned to Ted. “Dr. Davis, you mentioned that he lost his wife to some sort of lab accident?”



         “Yes sir. He lost her about this time last year.”  He tucked the locket in his pocket. “I think he’s found her now.”



~The End~