The data, though. It would be incredible. She was actually sitting on something of a gold mine. The tests she could run. The papers she could write and publish. She would be the talk of the psychological community for years. It would take her months or years to cover all the angles this subject presented. As far as treatment options, she wasn’t sure there were any. Oh, they would try the standard treatment options, and maybe a few new ones, but she had serious doubts they would put much of a dent in the psychosis she had just seen. Locked up, secure, and available for testing was the only option.
And if the Sarodian Test data wasn’t enough, there was the whole issue of how she was able to overcome the blocks placed in her brain to prevent her from moving during the test. There was no scientific explanation for how that could have happened. The procedure had been used in testing many times over an untold number of tests. Failure was unheard of. Just to be sure, she had run a diagnostic on her device and found it in perfect working order. So how had the girl done it? The clue might lie in the abnormal brain structures she located during the brain scan. Those would definitely need more scrutiny, but not by her. While she could interpret the scan for certain abnormalities particular to her field of study, she was by no means an expert in brain structure. Someone else would need to explore that avenue of study.
She took another sip of her drink, this time without shaking as she considered the possibilities of who else she could bring into her new project. There were actually quite a number of good, qualified specialists in the field, but only a handful that were truly exceptional and universally accepted as the best in the field. She ticked off several names and threw out several right away. She needed someone who was not only an expert, but someone she could work with and trust not to take over the whole project
Dr. Miller wrote a name down on her data pad. She searched the professional database for the contact address, attached one of the scans as a teaser, and sent the message. She smiled to herself and sat back; hoping her first pick was available. Dr. Elizabeth Gault was arguably one of the top neuroscientists in her field. In the last few years she had started to consult more and more in the robotics and artificial intelligence industries and was highly sought after for her expertise. Even so, Dr. Miller was confident the scan she’d attached to her message would get her to drop everything. For now, she needed to work out a way to maintain control over the test subject. This was one opportunity she did not intend to let escape.
***
Rayne mostly ignored the two marines, knowing they were not a threat, but she kept close watch to make sure no one intruded on her space. She moved with easy grace as she danced and jumped through the grass, chasing the butterflies. She felt somewhat tired and her voice was once again nearly non-functional, but she had no memory of the test, or breaking the spinal block and attempting to get off the table and kill everyone in the room. To her, she’d closed her eyes one minute, and awakened the next. The only evidence she had even taken the test was the little bit of blood on her lips and the two marines holding her down. Dr. Miller had given her a towel to wipe her mouth, with a shaking hand extended at arm’s length. Her pale complexion and wide eyes suggested the results of the test would be less than ideal. Lena had offered to take her back to her room for some rest, but she had refused, instead demanding the captain’s promise be kept and she be allowed her time in the natural habitat.
Mike and Lena stood guard as they watched Rayne chase butterflies around the small clearing. It was a busy time of the day and this area would normally be teeming with crew members, technicians, sailors and marines enjoying a short break or their off time. The natural habitat was fairly large, as was needed for a station of this size. There were a number of small clearings such as this, but they had been careful to clear anyone from the area before letting Rayne loose. After seeing what had happened during the aborted psych test, they were taking no chances. They stood together and scanned the smaller area to make sure no one accidentally walked their way.
“That was some crazy shit, Sarge,” Lena said quietly to keep Rayne from overhearing.
“Yeah, it was.” Mike took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone that messed up,” she added as they watched Rayne crouching on the ground with the butterfly she’d just caught.
“Me neither,” he replied, deep in thought. He had a faraway look in his eyes, only half engaged in the conversation.
“She was crazy that first time when they woke her up, but this was different. I mean, it was like …,” Lena struggled for words and then started again. “I’ve seen guys lose it during combat. Go all berserker and stuff, but that was just…” She was at a loss for words again and then finished with, “It was like she was possessed by the devil himself.”
“Yeah, I know,” Mike said absently, still deep in thought.
“What are we gonna do if she goes all crazy like that on us again?” Lena asked, the worry plain in her voice. They both knew that if Rayne’s brain took a trip from reality, it was going to take more than two of them to stop her. Station rules prevented anyone but security from carrying weapons and they didn’t have the tools at their disposal to get the job done.
Mike didn’t reply.
“You know, we’re going to have to find a way to put her down or keep her locked up, right, Sarge?”
Mike finally came back to reality and glanced at her.
“I know, Lena. I know.” They both turned back to watch Rayne. The silence stretched for several minutes until Lena finally spoke again.
“You got any ideas?”
“I think we start by gaining her trust.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of a stun gun or something.”
“Oh, we’ll have to have something like that as a backup,” he replied seriously. “But I think if we try and establish some friendships with our group, get her involved in what we do day to day. Maybe if she trusts us, we’ll have some level of influence if she does whack out on us, you know? Kinda like getting drunk on leave. Even though you’re really plastered, you still generally recognize who your friends are because you work with them day in and day out.”
Lena snorted.
“You do remember Jackson knocked Taft out cold last leave?”
“Yeah, but Taft deserved it. Besides, Jackson was completely sober at the time.” He grinned. “That’s what the stun gun is for.”
***
“I read your report, Dr. Miller. I am quite well aware she failed the test.” Captain Gault and Dr.Miller sat in the captain’s office. He’d been sent Rayne’s results immediately after the conclusion of the test. Dr. Miller had asked to meet with him right away.
“Then you know how important it is that she be confined and treated. The subject has some serious issues that need to be treated in a controlled environment.” Unlike Dr. Alan, Dr. Miller kept a composed, respectful tone. She knew if she were to get anywhere with the captain it would be with a logical argument.
“Her name is Rayne,” the captain said quietly.
“What?” She blinked in confusion.
“I said, her name is Rayne, not ‘the subject’.” He leaned forward in his chair and interlaced his fingers on the desk. “I’m going to ask that you please use it, lest you forget she is a human being, not some science experiment for your amusement.”
Dr. Miller grimaced at her unexpected blunder and worked quickly to undo the damage.
“I am aware that she is not a science experiment, captain. But she does need the proper medical and psychological treatment.” Her next argument was where she hoped to win the captain over. Everyone knew him as a by-the-book, rules and regulations man. “Regulations dictate that any subject failing the psych test as spectacularly as she has is required to be turned over to med tech for inpatient treatment.”
“What, so you can lock her in a room and poke needles at her? I don’t think
so.” He kept his voice low and calm while giving her his best penetrating stare.
Dr. Miller had expected some resistance but had been certain she’d win the argument. “But the regulations state…”
“I am quite aware of what the regulations state, Dr. Miller. They also state that where a patient’s captain determines the medical staff is not suited to treat the patient, he has the authority to seek more competent treatment elsewhere.” He maintained his stern gaze.
“Not suited? We have the finest…”
“Let me recap the incompetence displayed by this station’s medical personnel since Rayne’s arrival and treatment on this station in case you missed any of it.” Captain Gault held up his fingers and began ticking his points off one by one. “One, medical staff failed to properly restrain her after waking her from stasis after combat. Two, medical staff attempted to force compliance to a psychological test using security with stun batons. And three, you continued a test far beyond the limit anyone has seen done, and for what, your own scientific curiosity?” He held up a hand as the doctor began to protest. “I even suspect you would have continued the test had it not been for the intervention of my marines as your equipment failed.” He pushed back from his chair and stood. Dr. Miller stood with him. “Based on that history, I have deemed this facility and its staff not suited to her treatment. As soon as this ship is refitted and refueled, I will be taking her to a facility more capable of handling her.”
“I see. Well, can I at least run some additional tests; start a treatment plan perhaps, until you leave?” She pleaded, in a last ditch effort to salvage something.
“I’ll take it under consideration, doctor. But as of this moment, I’m not inclined to allow it.” He indicated toward the door with a nod, signaling the end of the discussion and allowing no further argument. Dr. Miller walked from the captain’s office.
Captain Gault knew he was only buying time. While he had successfully outmaneuvered Dr. Alan and Dr. Miller both, he had nearly played his last card. The station’s medical staff would be sending messages seeking a higher authority to have Rayne transferred to their care over his objections. Once that happened, things would get sticky very fast. Fortunately, it took two weeks to send messages to fleet command. Unfortunately, the work on the ship wasn’t due to be finished for another two weeks. They’d be cutting it close. Once off the station, they would be out of communication for the duration and he could continue the task of rehabilitating Rayne on their own. It was a huge risk. One that could end his career and even get people hurt. Captain Gault had always gone by the book, always followed procedure. But this time, with Rayne, he was going to throw the book out the door and do his best to do the right thing. He knew what would happened if he just turned the girl over. He could see it in Dr. Miller’s eyes. He saw greedy excitement at the prospect of having a new lab rat. She would lock her in a room with padded walls and never let her out while she conducted her experiments, wrote her papers, and basked in the light of her fame.
He had discussed options with Sgt. Weber and his own ship doctor, Dr. Little. They all agreed they were taking on a huge risk by attempting to rehabilitate Rayne on their own, but no one wanted to leave her at the station. Everyone was willing to give it a try and see it through to the end. They each had their part to play. Sgt. Weber would work with Rayne day to day under Dr. Little’s supervision. They all agreed the first thing they needed was to gain her trust. To do that, they hoped to use the marine’s team dynamic to make her feel welcomed and part of something. A surrogate for the family she no longer had.
Along with his concern for Rayne, he also worried about the marines and other crew that would be working in close proximity to the girl. He knew the hazards. He’d read the girl’s report and seen for himself that she could be positively lethal if she chose. What gave him some measure of confidence this might work was the fact that she had so far chose not to be lethal when it was well within her means to be so. If they could bring her back to a measure of normalcy, maybe they could find someplace where she could live a normal life. And somehow, he had to manage all that while continuing to conduct the business of ship’s captain.
CHAPTER 5
Elizabeth Gault loved a good mystery, or a big challenge, or anything that stimulated her intellect. She needed constant input to keep it busy. Without it she was like a caged lioness, pacing back and forth until something struck her interest. Even if something did strike her interest she would still pace, not out of boredom but out of the excitement the new challenge presented. She devoured information like most people devoured food and she needed a constant stream of it to stay satisfied. Any information would do and it didn’t necessarily have to be in her field of expertise. In fact, she held the belief that limiting yourself to your area of expertise was, well, limiting.
Her specialty was neurology, the study of the brain and its structures, spending most of her career delving into the inner mysteries of the brain and how it worked. It was an incredibly complex puzzle and one that had yet to be completely solved. How memory was stored, what structure does what and most importantly how do you fix the brain when it malfunctions, or how do you enhance its performance? Those were just some of the questions she had worked on during her career and she was by no means at the end of her list of questions.
Technology had always been designed to augment human capability. In many ways, the technology was created to mimic human life or to completely replace it. That’s where her studies had led her and she was currently consulting on a number of robotic research and development programs. Human technology had certainly progressed to the point where it could mimic human life. But that was the problem, mimic was about all it could do. The AI constructs capable of being housed in the storage unit of the current interfaces just weren’t good enough. Nothing developed yet had attained anything close to what the human brain was capable of and that was the genesis of the problem. Scientists could re-grow a human limb given enough time. In fact, there wasn’t a part of the body they couldn’t re-grow or repair with the developments in human technology over the last few hundred years. Even a brain. In fact, in one study, scientists had grown an entire human body starting from a Petri dish. The problem? They couldn’t animate it. They couldn’t give it life, or give it a soul if you believed in that sort of thing. Without it, it was simply a useless piece of flesh lying on the table. So the question was: from where, or how, do you make a human soul? So far, no one had come up with a viable solution, but Dr. Gault’s significant intellect was working toward it.
The problem was that you couldn’t take a computer AI and insert it into living tissue. It just wasn’t possible, or at least it wasn’t possible yet. That was the holy grail of research she was currently pursuing. A melding of scientific fields of study; neurology and robotics. She was by no means the first to delve into the same line of thinking. There had actually been a number of advancements made in robotics that had their origins in neurology. But most of the thinking, or lines of study, had been directed at copying human brain structure and using it in robotics. She was hoping to do it the other way. Take robotics. Specifically, the AI and its programmable code and put it into a living, breathing thing of her own creation. It sounded a little Dr. Frankenstein when put like that, but the possibilities were endless.
Dr. Gault opened the door to her office and sat down. It was neat and organized, almost sterile even. The desk space was clear and everything had its place. A well-ordered mind produced a well-organized space. To say that she strictly controlled or attempted to control everything in her environment would be an understatement. She controlled herself, the space around her, her career and a great many people and things. If she wanted something and didn’t control it, she would out-think or out-maneuver them until she did. She didn’t have to be underhanded about it. She was just smart enough to outthink most everyone else.
Dr. Gault kicked her sh
oes off and pulled herself up to her data console to check her messages. It was the end of her day and she planned on finishing a few things up before she headed home. Shrugging out of her lab coat, she pulled her dark hair from its tightly bound bun and shook it out. She shot off a few replies to the firms she was consulting for, replied to a few colleagues, and then found an interesting message from the far side of space. Procyon Naval Station. Her ex operated out of that particular station, and while she knew the message would not be from him, it still peaked her curiosity. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have bothered. She got numerous messages throughout human-occupied space for hundreds of different projects, questions and requests. There was simply no way to keep up with them all, so she had a tendency to pick and choose those that had immediate importance to her and ignored the rest.
Dr. Gault opened the message out of idle curiosity. It was from a Dr. Miller. She had no idea who Dr. Miller was, but her attached credentials identified her as a psychologist on the station. Dr. Miller was requesting assistance with a research project she felt was quite promising and possibly even revolutionary. Dr. Gault smirked. Like she hadn’t heard that before. She received almost daily requests from any number of scientists, doctors, and even engineers, along similar lines. They had all come across something revolutionary and needed her assistance in their research. Dr. Gault just didn’t have time for it. Even with her hunger for knowledge, there was no way she could pursue everything that caught her interest.