Does Sweet Pea Flower Mean Something? You forget the date You forget your keys You forget your phone number The city lights spread before him like a multicoloured web. The Tower itself seemed to be at its very centre, a huge spider which stood ominously, watching over its domains. But spiders, he once knew, always hide in some obscure corner of their traps, waiting for their prey. "Dr. Yamashita has arrived, Mr. Quincy" Quincy slowly turned around and walked towards his desk. He contemplated the interphone for a few seconds before hesitantly pressing the "send" button. "I will see him in a few minutes" "Yes sir" Quincy opened his desk's top drawer, and pensively gazed into it. He took out a small black notebook, and sat down, turning on the desk lamp besides him. The light momentarily hurt his eyes, but he nonetheless began leafing through the booklet. The first simple annotations were easy to understand, but as he turned the pages the content of the notes became more complex and technical, and the elegant handwriting became distorted. The last dozen pages took him almost half an hour to read. He sat back, closing his eyes. He placed the notebook back in its drawer and reached for the interphone. "Please make an appointment with Dr. Tokei Yamashita, tomorrow morning at eight, and hold all my calls." "You wish to reschedule Dr. Yamashita's appointment, sir?" Quincy paused for a moment. "No, send him in. You may leave for the day." --- Dr. Yamashita entered the large office with a rather unsure stride, which was rather unbecoming of him, as he usually carried himself with aplomb. He was, after all, chief bioengineer at one of Genom's top research facilities, and a truly brilliant man, two things which didn't necessarily go hand-in-hand. Quincy motioned towards the seat in front of his desk and Yamashita sat down, a grave expression carved on his rather featureless face. "Did the acetylcholine work?" In spite of being intimidating, Yamashita still admired Quincy's no-nonsense approach to matters, whatever they might be. "It's hard to say. The subject died." "But you know that the beta-amyloid is the culprit. It was a well-known defect of the S-33a. You mentioned the S-34 seemed to respond best to it." "The S-34 is still just a cyborg. It is rather easy to inhibit the m2 receptors in its case. It is also a much more resilient creature." "What about norepinephrine?" "Similar results, although somewhat more... unpleasant" For an instant Quincy glared back at him. "We have had, however, some luck with the biochemical storage. We managed to transfer a dream into a sleeping S-34. It didn't actually store it in memory, but I think we're close." "How close?" "A year, at least." "And the cryogenic unit?" "The containment is critical. If done incorrectly the subject will certainly die. We must understand the full process before attempting hibernation. The tests could take years. A very long shot." Quincy took a deep breath, pondering for a minute. "So bio-storage is the way?" "I believe the neurotransmitter is the most promising solution, but reversibility is still an issue, and probably even a bigger problem. Of course, bio-storage has this same setback, but we'd be working with a healthy recipient, and we may be able to successfully complete a transfer within twenty months." "Time is running out, you know that. Treatment has been ineffective so far. Six months." "Even a year is extremely optimistic, and it would still be highly dangerous. We are doing the best we can." Yamashita was about to say something else, but Quincy had already spun his chair around, facing towards the large window behind his desk. "Very well, Doctor. Concentrate your efforts on the bio-storage." It took Yamashita a few seconds to realize the conversation had ended. He slowly stood up and headed towards the exit. "Doctor Yamazaki" Yamashita stopped, confused. Quincy kept gazing through the window. "What was the dream about?" The doctor paused for a moment, still perplexed. "The dream?" "Yes, the one you implanted into the S-33" "Oh, uh, yes, the dream. It was a glimpse of a unicorn" "A unicorn?" "Yes, we use a unique image as a tracer of sorts, to distinguish it from other common dreams and memories the S-34 might have." Quincy did not reply. After a couple of minutes Yamashita turned around and left with the same doubtful stride he had when he came in. --- Quincy sat still for a long time. After a couple of hours, he once again turned his chair around, and faced the terminal on his desk. With some effort he managed to write two letters. When he finished, he checked the time - 22:56 - and struggled a bit to set the emailer to send them at midnight. He then opened a new xterm on his monitor, and switched to a "televised" internet channel. The news was the only program which had ever interested him, and he sat back to watch the events of the day. In spite of his attempts to concentrate, the newscaster's words soon became an unintelligible, monotonous stream. He tiredly glanced at his watch. 23:17. He was stalling, and he knew it. Turning around, he opened the drawer in which he kept his notes. He almost sighed in relief when he verified its contents, not because of what was within, but because of what might not have been. As he reached inside he heard an anchorwoman give an excited account of the story she was covering. "... afternoon, the mercenary group called the 'Knight Sabers' seems to have attacked and destroyed a warehouse which was owned by Genom industries. Although a Genom spokesperson has announced that the facilities were abandoned years ago, investigators have discovered..." Quincy grinned. More problems. He didn't care. It would be his successor's job to cope with these 'Knight Sabers', whatever they were. Quincy then proceeded to retrieve the gun from the drawer, place the barrel in his mouth, and pull the trigger. You forget your address You forget your family You forget your name And, eventually, you'll even forget you have Alzheimer's _________________________________ marco@chinook.physics.utoronto.ca Gunnm: Broken Angel http://128.100.80.13/marco/alita.html