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Cerebomni's Memorine, by Polly Jebson

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1. Telophase

Andrea closed her eyes and started the breathing exercises as soon as she felt the drug kick in. She had been reticent about the experiments at first, but now, under the supervision of Dr Louie, she began to feel calm and relaxed. Anything, she supposed, was possible.

“Does it work?” Dr Louie asked. He was standing over her, watching his patient and the monitors very closely. “Is there an effect? Come on, tell me. What do you see? What do you remember?”

She could feel the smooth couch underneath her and could remember clearly what the ceiling looked like, she could feel the sunlight on her eyelids. The whole room smelled medical and clean, her five senses were clear.

“There’s no immediate physical effect...” she edged. “Good.” The Doctor’s voice was soothing and distant. “But mentally, I feel... clean.”

Dr Louie stared intently at the screen, squinting. He was a young man, but constant laboratory work and lack of sunshine had aged him somewhere way beyond his years. A silent blip appeared on the monitor connected by a colourful connection of wires to rubber pads on Andrea’s forehead. He raised his eyebrows as if to acknowledge it.

“Yes,” he said, “it's working now, I can see it. Your intellect should be feeling sharpened right now. The AC enzyme will be bringing your supply of acetylcholine to a maximum. The dose I gave earlier of physostigmine will be backing it up quite nicely now, I should think.”

He spoke in a very confident and self-assured voice that made Andrea feel even safer. She stared at abstract images on the underside of her closed eyes. “That last lot of PRL-8–53, should not be dulling your mind as much now. As a tranquiliser, it unusually seems to boost mental performance, rather that dampen it.” Andrea felt that on her route to perfect-memory-town she didn’t really need to know all these details, but she listened anyway and remembered it.

“What do you see?” Dr Louie said. “What do you remember?”

“I’m not sure,” she said.

“Think. Think hard. Let it come. What is your Personal Ident Number?”

Andrea didn’t even have to think. “2861–962–GTNI2–8,” she said. “Christ, I can never normally remember that!”

“Good. What did you have for lunch three weeks ago Iast Friday?”

“Salad and chips,” she said. “There were thirty-eight chips, two of which were burned to a crisp. Wow! This is incredible.”

She opened her eyes wide and sat bolt upright, her face was shining with excitement. Dr.

Louie put his hand on her shoulder to steady her, not that she needed it.

“Ask me more!”

“Not yet. Come, lie back down. I’ve still got to administer the vasopressin.”

He removed the final syringe from his case, tapping it with his fingernail to remove any air. “This,” he said, “is the hormone vassopressin. It will blow your memory to its total zenith.” He injected her quickly and painlessly. “I’ve added a little oestrogen and plasma, so that your body won’t reject it.”

Andrea closed her eyes.

And waited.

“What do you see?” the Doctor said. “What do you remember’!”

Andrea felt herself floating. Drifting. She was in the mouth of a shark, caught at her waist. She couldn’t feel her legs or feet, only the cold rush of the ocean as the shark pushed her through the glittering waters. She saw herself in its wide black eyes as her body gently came apart. There was an old boyfriend of hers, somewhere. She remembered his cold steel-grey face and his ability to beat and abuse her. She felt herself in a courtroom, listening to verdicts and legal language. She remembered herself, lying on the beach of a sparsely-populated Greek island. And swimming in the sea. And the shark. Memories she never knew she had. Memories which weren't really memories, at least not hers, anyway. Far away, there was a motorbike. She could hear it humming gently until it came closer and she could smell the engine burning, and the shiny leather of the seats. She was on the motorbike, not a passenger, she was actually riding it. She remembered every detail, though she had never before rode a motorbike. Then the shark. Eating shark steak. Drinking in a pub called The Shark’s Refuge. The memories were confusing themselves, but through it she felt that she could understand perfectly. The Memorine concoction pulsed furiously through her veins, her heart pounding in her ears. Lecithin and physostigmine going wild. Her neurons and synapses, signals between her brain‘s nerves, the homeland of Memorine, nerves deep within the brain supplying the cerebral cortex with more discoveries and new memories than was supposed to be humanly possible. Before, it was unfocused, but now she could see it clearly. It was an intelligence, something outside of her body, something outside of any body. Something powerful, yet benevolent. She tried to name it but failed, it had already named itself.

2. Anaphase

“Cerebomni.” The name echoed ;IS she spoke it. Or. Louie had told her not to wony, ;I hd that it WaS probably just some unforeseen side-eft.ect. At the time it had seemed plausible, but now, back in the cOlnparable safety of her home, it felt unnerving.

“C’erebomni.1! The Memorine had elarified most tllings, ;Thd Cjt the same time it had confused a few ;IS well. There had been 1”C,?1 halluninations of sharks, even though she had never seen a real shark in her life. Memories of ;In ex-boyfriend beating on her, but that had never h;jppened. ‘rhese were fears, Dr Louie had told her. Deep-rooted fears that can be made relevant at any time. Andrea had listened to his diagnosis but she hadn’t fully believed him.

“Cerehomni.1! There was no denying it, the Memorine drugs had perfected her memory. She couJd remember her first period; the twenty-first of May ;It six forlylwo in the evening. It hadn’t hurt, but she had been shocked. It was exactly twenty-nine weeks before Christmas Day, and .”he was fourteen ;It the lime. She remembered how many times she.d ever said hello, and the amount of peaple she’d ever said it to; it was one hundred and thirteen jhou.,;and, ein:ht hundred ;I hd eighty. Iaighty-one if she counted the milkman this morning. She recaJled n,e exact times and places when she’d had a Gin & Tonic Every film she had ever seen, every hoOk she had ever read. All in absolute detail fwery hank statement from the last fifteen years. l’ne lines 0n her old Schoolteacher’s face. The precise shade of colour of Dr l-Ouie’s hair. fwery single and multiple memory reprodueed perfectly in every shining detail. She clenched her teeth. “Too much.”

“Cerebomni.” She couldn’t seem to get it out of her head. She went to her kitchenette and switched the kettle on to make coffee. She remembered the wording on the label of the coffee jar from the last time she made a cup, so she didn’t bother to re-read it. As the steam from the kettle began to tllter slowly into the air, she closed her eyes and waited. Something came, steadily at first. It was something she had never before seen or thought about and still she recognised it. It writhed and spun gently, forming itself into a thought, or a word, or a being of some sort. She knew it was alive because it breathed, it rose and sank in her mind, unsteadily, but it had life.

“Cerebomni.” That name again.

“What are you?” she said softly, so as not frighten it. There was no reply, only a memory.

Whatever the thing was, it was friendly. Or so it seemed. Andrea slid down to the kitchen floor and sat totally still, her eyes still closed. She found she had a memory, nothing solid but she could remember something. Something that had never happened to her. Not her memory. A swirling mass in a cold, forbidding vacuum. It felt abstract. She could feel a pain. It was lolleliness.

“What are you?” she said again, and then with its name. “What are you, Cerebomni?” “[Ielp. ..” Its voice was yielding. Unearthly and distant.

“What are you?”

“C. ..can you? C. ..can y. ..you help m. ..” It seemed scared, but Andrea found the voice

soothing and quieting.

ease,s le sal,m IS enmg.

“Can you help me?” Clearly now. The voice was feminine, soft and mild, pulsating leisurely.

“I... I don’t know,” she said and regretted it instantly. Her moment of uncertainty had cut the link and the soft, peacefull image and voice of the thing called Cerebomni receded into nothingness, somewhere pure and bright.

She felt suddenly alone and unprotected.

The kettle was boiling over somewhere far away.

“If it’s peace of mind you’re after I can use some variation on {7ree Iaadical Inhibitors,” Dr Louie said.

Andrea had returned to his surgery after hours and tried to explain what had happened.

“There was something there,” she said. “Some thing.”

“A mind-monster? Not uncommon.”

“No,” she said, sitting on the couch. “Not a monster. It was kind. It needed help. She told me and I could sense it.”

“She?” the Doctor stroked his chin and looked out of the large window thoughtfnlly. “She, you say? Did she have a name?”

“Cerebomni,” Andrea said, she was holding out her hands and looking up at Louie. “What’s happening to me?” “‘rhe Memorine should have destroyed any delusion, stipping it away to reveal hidden truths. That was the whole idea. It is, of course, possible that your memory reception and perception has been hightened to such an extreme that you are now able to pick up external memories. Either other people’s memories and thoughts, or even other thing’s thoughts.”

“Other things?” Andrea frowned, she knew what he meant but she couldn’t understand it. “Other beings, other entities, I don’t know. rhis is very exciting.”

“What can I do?” she pleaded. “This could drive me mad.”

Dr Louie walked over to his bookshelf and picked off a manuscript. The pages flapped as he flicked through it, he didn’t seem to be even reading it, just shaking his head and frowning slightly in concentration. “I don’t think there’s anything you really can do, except wait and see what happens. I can give you Cross-Iink Breakers to make you comfortable.”

“No. ” she said flatly.

“Or some DNA-Repair Stimulators and Immunomodulators, supergenes which will work 0n your {{L-A antigens. It will make you more receptive.”

“No, I don’t think so,” she said, mentally exhausted because she knew she would never forget the names of the drugs. “Just give me some Ultrorphine in case I get any pain.”

“nurmando-TECn and MindGen will be interested, can I ten t hen1?” nllt it was too late, Andrea was already half way out of the door with a bottle of morphine pills in her hand. She was no longer interested in a doctor who could no longer help her.

3. Metaphase

l\ndrea had heard before of a memory boosting super-drug ealled Lysine-8–vasopressin, sold lnlder the brand name of Diapid. It had reportedly restored the memoly of a fifty-five-ycar-old man who had suffered from ten years of amnesia after head ill juries sustaincd in a car accidcllt. That was follr months ago, and, at the time, Andrea had been in awe. Now, it seemed nothing. It wasn’t that she had a useless memory before, or she always forgot where her car keys were, she just wanted to he perfcct in at least one way. Her memory had been a little foggy at times, hut that was nothing out of the ordinaly. After decades of failed attempts, medical rcscarchers had come up with a unique hndcrstandin!!; of mind chemi.”tty and had given the world at larRc a whole series of memoly w’onder-drllgs to fry out. When Dr Louie first mentioned his expcrimenta1 drlJ!!; compoullds, Andrca w’as all too eager to play Guinea-pig. Perhap.” a little too eaRer, she thollght how.

She felt herself picking up a stran!!;er’s memoly. Gct rid of thc credit card.”. Lfnlc.”.” you Ret rid of thc credit card.”, )7OU’re not se rio u.”. Anothcr one, a different pcr.”on. You bc caJafiJI, Rirl. A Im of thinR.” are fur too ea.”y to .”ay. I love you, bcing thc ca.”ic.”t of thcm. lnere ouRht to bc a way to makc it mole difficult. ,S’ome condition that ha.” to bc n7et bcfGre your mouth can n7,’lke tho.”c word.”. You .”hould haa7e to earn them. Anyone can .”,’l.V lloa’c VOU, bc cafaful. l’hcsc wcre not l\ndrea’S memorics, she felt she wa.” just sort of picking them out of the air. Floating, staRnant melnories that will hever go aWay, just there for the taking. Ma}’be Dr Iaonie had bcen riRht, she thought. Her head buzzed with the nnntitude of perfect memory illforlnation.

“Andrea,” someone said. It was a familiar ahd comfortinR voice.

“Cerebomni?” she said. She couldn’t see a thing Jlntil she eroscd her eyes. It had a waml, soft shape. Somethin!!; wclcolning, somethin!!; aTh1ost vulval. She WaS bathcd in li!!;ht.

“I,et me hclp you,” she said. “I think I can help you. I think I know what it is.”

“llelp me, Andrea,” the shape remelnbered.

“Are you alive now’? Or just a memory’?”

“;\live,” it said, softly. “But hurting.” Andrea could feel it smilin!!;, bcaring a great weight 01! its mind but still lnana!!;ing to smile warmly. She could feel its melnory of tears.

“What arc you? Where are you from?”

“I’m from another world,” it said. “A world different from yO\lrs, a world with more than three spatial dimensions. But I know nothing else. 1 believe 1 have lost lny lnemory.”

“Enter me,” Andrea said with overwhelming insight. “1:nter me. Comc inside me.”

“No,” it remembered. “It would cause you tenderness.” ,

“Tenderness’?”

“llaml. ..”

Andrea could feel it shaking slightly, vibrating softly to Ihe rhythms of her own body. A new elnpatlly took her. “Please do it,” she said. “Iell be OK. I’ve got some pain killers.1! Then silence. For about a lninute hothing happened and Andrca fought the impulse to doubt. Shc waited, carcfully cIearing her lnind of all thoughts and me n10ries, keeping it cJean for the operlpation to be smooth. A massive surge took her body and brain at ollce. Bracing herself against any undue discomfort, she screwed her eyes up even more tightly so aS to bc able to see. cerebolnni 100n1ed eroser, unthreateningly. Andrea could feel her wamlth. l”ere WaS n0 pain, only a pure sensation of pcace and of realisation, a growin!!; empathy sliding throunh her tOISO. When it WaS colnplcte, Andrea could feel Cerebomni’s presence, it was not intruding, but unifying.

“17riend,1! one of them said.

4. Prophase

A sort of reverse lnitosis had taken place. It was as if two dauRhter nuclei had come together to form a one parent nucleus. Andrea wasn’t sure how it had happened, hut it had happened aIright. 1\n she could remember was that there had been no pain. No pain at an. Iler memoly felt empty and she liked the sensation.

“‘rhere was no pain,” she said. It was all she conld manage. She was hovering somewhere,

wei!!;htless, encouraged and relieved. hWhere are we?1! she said to her ncw self.

“Nowhere,1! came the answer, hwe’re just floating.”

“There was no pain. No pain at all.” She felt as if she was nowin!!; through long fleshy tube-like

arteries. “Can we open our eyes?” she said.

“We have no eyes. Look.”

She looked from somewhere within their airy body and saw radiance. I:;;verywhere gleamed and blazed with light

“It’s beautiful. Can we cry?”

“Yes, but not with our eyes.”

Andrea felt tears streaming from somewhere. “It’s so hcautiful.” She felt somcthing within them, flowing through what she imagined were their veins. It felt .!(ood.

“What’s that?” she said.

“A drug. A kind and helping drug.”

“What kind of drug?” she said, rememhering her experiments wit Ii Or. Louie. All that seemed distant now. “Who’s Or. Louie?” She couldn’t remember. “Dr IJouie is a long way away now. Relax. You will expand my mind and bring my memory to

a perfect maximum.” Cerebomni’s voice was like syrup. “Andrea, you have become my Memorine.” Andrea tried to remember what it was like before, and even while she WaS swimming in

Cerebomni’s memory she couldn’t recall a thing. Any thin.!c they supposed, was possible...

Polly Jebson