The pulse monitor alarm squealed.
'She's crashing!'
Frantic movements in the operating theatre caused his gut to twist.
'Standby. Clear.'
Her body jerked as the voltage surged.
'No response.'
Doctor Arthur Beecham turned away from the window, but couldn't shut out their voices. Another wasted life. Guilt ran from his tortured stomach to his head. This time I'm going to stand up to him. No more experiments. Nothing's worth this, not even a Nobel prize. Global will have to find someone else mad enough to pursue this research. His internal monologue bolstered him and he determined to confront Canning as soon as he came out of the operating theatre.
'One milligram epinephrine.'
'Clear.'
'No response... No response, Dr. Canning?'
'Call it.'
It's weird. It's like I'm wide awake but dreaming... That high pitched tone is tearing me apart. Everything is dark. I need to cough. Something has stopped the breathing.
Arthur knew Canning, would have a plan for this. The blame will fall on everyone else. He began to shake as he readied to speak to Canning. Such an intimidating man. He could be charming and persuasive, using all the techniques he'd developed alongside Arthur. Techniques that led to the Special Stranger initiative, and directly to this point in time. Arthur heard the static tone of the ECG machine and Canning calling time of death.
The tone faltered.
Arthur dared to turn back. To look through the window. Unknown green gowned figures rushed about her prone body. Somewhere in their midst was Canning. The man who'd chosen her and the others from hundreds of candidates, and Arthur knew Canning was hoping his dream had come true.
There's a new pain now... At the back of my head... I'll remove it... The need to cough had went as soon as I imagined coughing. Maybe imagining the pain away is all that's required?
The tone began its intermittent signal of life. Arthur pleaded with the universe to keep Alison from Stephen's fate. Just bring her around alive, intact, one out of three. It's all we need. He tried to put the previous operations from his mind but found himself reliving the convulsions that wracked Sonia in her last moments. His stomach complained at what his mind conjured up. Invasive brain surgery was already highly skilled, real time scans had improved expertise, but there had been something about Sonia's brain architecture that hadn't shown up. They spent more time on Stephen, picking out the exact site, the very synapses they would fuse to, but Stephen had never woken up.
Each of the candidates had signed up for the procedure, he had their signatures on their forms. At the time it had assuaged his guilt, but now the feeling had returned with a vengeance. Everyone knew the risks, just not the benefits. It isn't strictly unethical, not these days.
The UN authorities had been too busy trying to bring the world back from the brink of collapse to worry about the ethics of what researchers were getting up to. Millions had died when supply chains had collapsed in the wake of the second Solar event. Much worse things occupied everyone by the time of the third when the UN made a grab for world power.
More awareness. I'm in a body. Feeling it sucking, then exhaling air... My arms, legs, I can't move them! She panicked at that, then noticed her breathing had changed to calm her... Calm down. I like this body now the pain has gone... Yes, let's wake up. You should not remember yet.
Of course Arthur didn't tell Alison about the others. The device had been described to her as an aide, something that would merely monitor her brain during her training, feeding back information to hone her skills. It would become apparent if the device worked but she would think the cognitive improvements were the natural result of the training. It can be that subtle. If we want.
It was only after two years of the Special Stranger scheme that Canning had confided in Arthur its true purpose. Canning and Global were looking for suitable candidates for a biotech implant in the brain with military applications. After initial trials, it would be installed in the next batch of candidates. Learning all the time they'd end with the procedure going mainstream.
Finally, Arthur would reap the attendant fame and reward that a medical break-through like this merited. Canning was doing it for the military applications but Arthur was doing it for the chance to repair function to badly damaged brains. He'd told himself the end justified the means, but he deeply regretting getting involved with Canning and Global.
Canning came out of the operating theatre and gestured at him with a thumbs up, walking away to the changing room. Arthur's resolve disappeared with the sound of the heart monitor's steady beat. Facing Canning will be impossible now it looks like we've been successful. Arthur knew his own words would twist on him, Canning would convince him it was fine. He felt his stomach turn and this time he couldn't calm it. He ran for the toilet.
Two days later when Arthur entered the room, Alison Strang was sitting up in bed. It was immediately clear she had no idea who he was. This is a problem. It's not a predicted side effect, so something has still gone wrong. He wondered how Michael Canning was taking that. Arthur had purposefully been avoiding him. If he didn't meet Canning then he didn't have to admit to himself that he wanted out and was too much of a coward to force Canning to accept his resignation.
'Alison. Do you know me?'
She was looking intently at him and he took the opportunity to search for the cognitive speed he hoped to find. There was confusion in her hazel eyes, and a panicked concern. She shook her head. His guilt threatened to overwhelm him.
On the point of spilling the whole terrible scheme out to her, the door opened and Canning breezed in. Arthur was immediately on his guard. Canning could sniff out his intention to inform Alison if he wasn't careful.
'Alison. I came as soon as I heard,' said Canning, his voice laden with concern that to an untrained ear would sound convincingly genuine.
Arthur wondered what he was up to, and tried to melt into the background. Canning could get very focussed and Arthur had found it was the only strategy which occasionally worked.
'Who are you? Who are both of you?'
Damn. She'd drawn attention to him and he saw Canning take proper note. The man's able read your life story in a glance. Arthur couldn't stop the feeling that Canning now knew what he'd been about to do. Desperate to leave the room, the last shreds of his dignity forced him to stay and protect Alison, however ineffectively that might turn out to be.
Arthur knew he was doomed the minute he left the room. Global was reputed to have a crack squad that took care of awkward situations. Resignation suffused his body. Canning's smile made him feel sick.
'I'm Doctor Canning, this is Doctor Beecham. I'm the head of the Special Stranger course. Doctor Beecham here is the head lecturer. You're one of our students. Alison, you've been in a car accident.'
Arthur heard the words and their cadence, even as he recognised Canning's hypnotherapy technique in use. He too began to believe that Alison had been in a car accident.
'I have?'
She sounded unsure. Arthur thought that was plausible, she'd lost her memory, she wouldn't know what had happened. What didn't make sense to him was why he too didn't remember anything about this accident.
'Yes,' soothed Canning, 'you've suffered a mild head injury, nothing too serious, airbags worked for a change. David is here to pick you up. They've said it's better for your recovery that you're in familiar surroundings.'
Of course, how have I forgotten that? She'd been so lucky to be riding in a UN car. Part of the resources squirrelled away across the world for over fifty years. Waiting for a disaster big enough for the UN to use them to gain control of worldwide policy making.
Arthur couldn't be too disgruntled about the UN. They'd bought into the Special Stranger scheme. A UN nation-state couldn't be larger than twelve million people if it wanted access to UN resources. The results of devastated electronic infrastructure, hammered by three radiation events had convinced even non-federal countries to contemplate breaking up. Canning's argument about making sure negotiations between the newly shrunken states was done scientifically had fitted with the UN's Scientific Recovery Programme.
Their hospital was now in the nation-state of London, but the UN hadn't been stupid. They'd known it would be hard to move the world in a scientific direction and the idea of supra-states had been allowed, dependent on negotiated contracts. Negotiated by non-aligned, trained negotiators - our Special Strangers.
Global had heard about their scheme and since the UN had no jurisdiction over Global, had decided they'd like a slice. Arthur disliked Global intensely. Canning had said it didn't matter. And Arthur had acquiesced, something he was sure he wasn't going to live much longer to regret.
A strange calm came over him as he contemplated what might happen. Frozen like a rabbit in the torchlight. He'd discounted trying to run as soon as he realised Canning knew he would tell Alison. Arthur tried to recall what it was he had to tell her. It's on the tip of my tongue.
Whatever it was, Canning would have him killed for it, so it must be important. Determined he would help keep Alison from Canning's clutches, he remained sitting. My final act of defiance.
'I'll go let David know you're coming,' said Canning, turning to Arthur with a final nod, his face moving from frustration to a frightening serenity.
'Arthur.' His name dripped with disappointment.
A shiver ran up Arthur's spine. Waiting to be sure Canning was gone from the corridor he leaned in towards her.
'Alison,' he began, unsure why this was so vital to say to her. But it is. And I have to use Cadence to say it.
Arthur concentrated on the rhythm, choosing his words for resonances. 'You need to protect yourself. You have to remember. You can only remember when you are safe.'
He saw her nod almost mechanically, then awareness crept back into her face. 'What?'
'Are you ready?' he asked.
'I suppose so.'
'Then I'll say goodbye. And good luck.'
He saw the confusion return to her face and hoped his attempt to programme her had worked. It was all he could do. He wouldn't have a second chance.