We welcome much published Tony Ruggiero to the pages of MSF.
His publishing credits include the following; Barefoot Grass Journal, The
Fifth Dimension, Alternate Realities, The Star Anthology, New Fiction from the
Edge, Aphelion, Little Read Writers Magazine, Underworld Magazine, Triangle 46,
The Mosh Pit, AlienQ, Peridot Books, Anotherrealm, Lunar Castles, Beyond SF,
Short Stories Writers Showcase, Deathgrip, Fables, Dragonglass and The Sixth
Sense. I have also received honorable mention in 'Eternity's Best of the
Web Contest' in 1998 and 1999.
Differences
By Tony Ruggiero
As the knife cut away the flesh that covered the cranium, the
instructor spoke to his students. "A map of the mind had many roads,
choosing the right thought is like choosing the right road." The comment
brought many assured nods from the students as they watched the skull being
removed from the creature. The creature, its body securely
strapped too the stainless steel table, was mercifully anesthetized and not
forced to partake in this live dissection of its head.
"Today class, we are very fortunate to have a specimen that
was captured only hours ago in a sabotage attempt at one of our government
sites. I was able to get the specimen because you are almost ready to graduate
medical school and possessing an understanding of our enemy, both
psychiatrically and physically is of the utmost importance, as most of you will
be drafted into the military service."
"Do we have any information on their thought process?"
A young female asked.
"We believe it is a relatively simple process by which
thoughts are transmitted by neural energy of some sort," the instructor
replied as he removed the remaining flesh and bone to expose the brain. One of
the students was immediately sickened by the sight and hurriedly exited the room
amidst the chuckles of several other students.
"But wouldn’t that process be subject to many outside
disturbances?" A student asked.
"Most definitely," the instructor replied.
"What is the capacity of the organ?" another student
asked.
"That is a surprising mystery that many seek to understand.
From what we know, less then half of the mass is used for functions we
understand. The rest is a mystery with much speculation. Now pay particular
attention on the location of the probes we are inserting today. We shall
try and isolate some of these areas we were just talking about."
Several monitors in the laboratory came on line as switches were
thrown into the on position to display various metabolic reading from where the
probes had been inserted. An extra probe was not connected to any monitor.
"What is that probe for?" A student asked.
"That is for a direct link hookup to our own neural net we
each have in our own minds for the on board systems of our ships. I’m not sure
if I want to try it yet though, it may be too risky. First lets observe the
readings on the displays." The class followed the instructor over to the
monitors where they observed each one and discussed their findings.
When they finished, they returned to the unattached probe once
again. "Now, lets observe what the neuro-electrical output of this
is," he said as he hooked it up to a measurement device. There was no
display of any output even at the lowest levels.
"That’s interesting," the instructor commented.
"Any thoughts class?" He asked. But before anyone could answer,
an alarm sounded from the control panel monitoring the life levels of the
creature. The instructor reviewed the panel and looked up. "I was afraid of
this, some type of infection has entered the body. The specimen will not live
for much longer."
"Then we need to try the direct link to see what
happens," a student said. "It may give us insight into the workings of
their minds which could provide vital tactical information." The instructor
thought for a few seconds then spoke.
"I will try it," he said. "You, class will
monitor and record results, but we must act quickly before we lose the
specimen." The instructor rolled another table next to the specimen and lay
down. He motioned for one of the students to connect the probe to his direct
neuro link. "Remember, remove the connection at signs of eminent death of
the specimen." The students nodded together as the link was established.
The images were of a soft serene color. He could not see clearly
at first, but slowly things came into focus. He found himself sitting
across from the specimen who this time was awake and sitting upright directly
across from him.
"Where am I?" the instructor asked uncomfortably and
obviously nervous.
"Inside of my mind," the specimen answered. "Do
not worry, I will not harm you," the specimen said calmly. "This area
is what we call the soul."
"The soul?" The instructor asked.
"Yes…" he began, but then the light in began to
flicker and disturbances could be felt. "We must hurry. There is not
much time left."
"What’s happening?"
"I’m dying. But that is not important right now, we must
hurry though. I want to give you something to take back with you."
"What?" He asked as the light flickered again and the
ground shuddered even harder. The instructor felt he was leaving, being pulled
out. Quickly the specimen creature touched him. The next thing he knew he
was lying awake on the table next to the now dead specimen.
"Did anything happen? The instruments recorded nothing, we
just removed the connection when we saw death of the creature was
imminent," the student said eagerly waiting for an answer.
"Nothing," the instructor said. "Not a thing.
Class is over for today," the instructor said abruptly. The class left the
laboratory. The instructor found himself staring at the dead body of the alien
specimen that lay on the table. He felt extremely tired and strange. And there
was something else that he couldn’t figure out. He searched his mental
database for symptoms, but could find no match.
He shook his head and hurried to perform his last task with the
specimen. He removed the large tag from the desk drawer and wrote in large black
letters; Human Specimen, destroy immediately with extreme temperature, and tied
it onto the body. He turned to leave the room and glanced back one last time.
"What is guilt?" He asked as his mechanical face
contorted into a shape unfamiliar to its programming.
THE END
