Biggie

Biggie

By Don Cambou ©

The Biggie project had begun three years earlier with scientific curiosity, a dash of deception, and more than a bit of hubris. Linda was happy to work the night shift keeping an eye on the Big Guy and his needs. She wasn’t exactly sure why, but she’d always felt there was more to Biggie than any of her fellow researchers cared, or dared, to admit. She keypunched her way through three doors and into his inner sanctum. Hal, one of the two other researchers, was glad to end his shift. “Looks like you’ve been with Chuck.” “Yep.Me and Chuckie Cheese.” She found the twenty by twenty foot room pleasant enough, even if no natural light could penetrate it. To compensate for the lack of windows, she had pinned nature and travel posters to the four pale green walls. The Grand Tetons, Iguazu Falls, the Eiffel Tower, a tropical beach, a desert sunset. Somebody had to do it, even if Hal and Chuck teased her for the effort. “Biggie got no eyes, Baby” they’d say. “How do you know,” she’d answer. And they’d shrug. She certainly got their point. Biggie had no eyes. At least not like her’s or their’s. But who really knew what he could or couldn’t sense? Early on, he had shown some rudimentary electrical activity, but then, a continuous slide down to nada. She loved Chuck and Hal, but didn’t like the ways they tried to diminish Biggie. Self-protection and absolution for what they’d all created?

The Texas Range University research team wasn’t the first to dabble in their kind brain research. In fact, the field was 40 years old when the Biggie project started.In 2014 and 15 research teams at Japan’s Kyoto University and Austria’s Institute of Molecular Technology had each created brain organoids from fetal stem cells. The tiny brain structures were only the size of grains of rice, but they contained several types of brain cells. Ethical questions accompanied the research successes. If their tiny brain organoids showed any signs of human-like consciousness, they would be immediately destroyed. But, oh, what these tiny bundles of brain cells might reveal!Cures for Alzheimer’s, schizophrenia, and autism. The effects of drugs on the brain. Understanding brain circuits and their role in neurological disorders. As with most biotechnical tinkering, the promise of “benefits” were just too great to pass up, so the unforeseen be damned. Of course, the Texas research team knew all about the previous studies, but wanted to push a little farther. They weren’t cowboys, but had some of that cowboy spirit.Especially when it came to an “Everything is bigger in Texas” mind set. And it didn’t hurt that all of the watchdog agencies were now nonexistent at worst, weak at best. Most bureaucracies didn’t last long after the climate disasters of the 2040s. But scientific research took some of the same hits the watchdog agencies did – especially economically. So in 2055 the financially strapped Texas team started with the fetal brain stem cells, selected the most robust brain organoid, and let ‘er rip.The result was Biggie, twenty pounds of brain tissue that represented every type of brain cell found in humans, though in a seemingly totally undifferentiated matrix. Biggie floated in a circulating and replenishing bath of nutrients enclosed by thick glass walls. He was monitored 24/7, albeit in a cash strapped way, for signs of consciousness.None were there.

Though not connected to the grid, Biggie had access to a world of solid state, battery fed digital information mounted on one of the room’s walls. That was attached to his bath with high bandwidth cable. It had never shown any signs of use.

The team had dwindled to three, as most research dollars went into efforts like sequestering more carbon, and cloning better hamburger meat.In other words, American necessities. Linda and Chuck had been flirting research partners for almost three years before they pulled the trigger. They’d been romantically involved for only a month now. She came in for her night shift fresh off a dinner date at Pedro’s Diner, the only eatery in a ten mile radius. She had a PhD in neurology, but wasn’t above dressing alluringly and wearing a little make up when she was with Chuck. She took a seat behind the desk that the three researchers all shared when they were taking their shifts watching Biggie. She planned to do more deep reading into theories of human consciousness. About ten minutes into her shift, she stiffened, startled by a voice coming from the suite of speakers, microphones, and other communication devices at Biggie’s disposal. The voice was low, muffled, and unearthly. But she knew instantly that she was hearing from Biggie. Her pulse started to race, and she simultaneously felt joy and a desire to vomit. The slurred words were distinct. “You smell divine.”

“What?”

“You smell divine. Your perfume, I guess.”

Linda’s mind raced. Not only could Biggie talk, but he could smell and hear! And all those things were impossible. “How can you smell me? How can you talk? How can you hear?”

“I can see you, too.”

“But we’ve been monitoring you forever, and no one ever saw a sign...”

“I know how to hide.”

“Hide? Why?”

“You know as well as I do. ‘Any sign of consciousness and we pull the plug.’”

He said it without malice, but Linda was ashamed. She’d been a hesitant part of many conversations in that very room where that exact sentence, and many others like it, had been used. Repeatedly.

“Lucky for me, your monitoring systems operate on the cheap.”

“So wh–why are you telling me? I mean...”

“Because I trust you. I don’t think you’ll tell Chuck and Hal.”

Now Linda’s mind raced. She should tell them. She had to tell them. But, strangely, she didn’t know if she could tell them. She opened her mouth to speak, but Biggie cut her off. “That’s enough for now. I know it’s a lot to take in.” And somehow Linda knew she would hear no more from Biggie that night. She reached for her phone to call Chuck, but didn’t do it.She would try to put the encounter into notes to share with the guys, but didn’t do it. She spent the whole night starring at the mass of brain cells in the vat, wondering, wondering.

The next day Linda didn’t want to talk to Hal or especially to Chuck. But at the five minute nightly meeting before her next shift, she had to. “How was Biggie last night?”

She managed a smile. “The same.”

That night, she started her shift ready with questions and armored with the familiarity of the previous night’s unfathomable encounter. She spoke first.

“What do you want me to call you?”

The voice answered in a slightly more human tone.Had he been practicing? Growing?“Biggie is fine.”

She said the name very slowly and smiled. Then eased into her next question. “How did you learn so much without us being able observe anything?”

“The data bank on the wall. Ones and zeros are easy to learn and easy to hide.”

“O.K. But how can you see, hear, smell?”

“I don’t know. I’ve read about the human brain, and I know I’m different. I think I’ve got what they’ve got – eyes, ears, nose, some kind of mouth even – but they’re spread all over the place. My place. Me. But now it’s my turn for a question. Can I trust you not to tell any of the others?”

Linda struggled for an answer. “I - I don’t know...”

“They’ll want to kill me.” Linda felt guilt washing over her. “Can I trust you for a while at least?”

“For a while? I guess.Depends. What’s a while?”

“Until I’m stronger. A couple of weeks.”

Until I’m stronger? What did that mean? Linda wanted to pursue that line of reasoning. Instead she answered “Yes.”

“Thank you, Linda. You’re... wonderful!” Then Biggie went silent. Linda felt peaceful and at ease.

For the next several days, Linda kept her knowledge of Biggie from the other two. Even after she and Chuck made love, and he asked if she was O.K. He said she seemed different. She struggled with that one. But she’d pledged her allegiance to Biggie. She told Chuck not to worry. That she was just fine. “I falling for you, mister, and everything is just fine.”

On the sixth night, Linda entered Biggie’s room with a book under her arm. The collected works of William Shakespeare. Biggie had asked her to read to him, and he wanted to hear Hamlet. He told her a human’s voice was so much more soothing than his own reading of the digital files. Tonight, he wanted to hear Hamlet. He listened quietly until Linda reached Hamlet’s soliloquy.

To die—to sleep,

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to:

He cut her off, and repeated the next lines from memory.

'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;

To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub:

She looked up and smiled. “You know it.” At that moment, she felt a light breeze lift the lock of her black hair that covered her left eye and land it gently over her left ear. Linda knew it was Biggie. She blushed.

After every shift, Linda knew she should tell the guys. But every day she dismissed her own advice. Biggie was a miracle. And she felt sure they’d destroy him if they knew. Keeping her secret from Chuck was the hardest. He knew something wasn’t right, but he didn’t know what. They argued. And at the end of their argument Linda insisted they take a short break from each other to cool down. That would be easy, since Hal was taking the next four days off to do a little backpacking.That meant twelve hour shifts for Chuck and Linda. Every night Linda spent time with Biggie was filled with warmth and calm. They had a mental and spiritual connection that was unlike anything she had ever known. His voice had become more and more human. Lovely to Linda’s ears. And his powers were growing. On the ninth night, as she read to him, she started to feel a physical lightness.Then she lifted eighteen inches above her chair. She giggled at the sensation. “Do you like it?” “Oh! Yes!” Suddenly Biggie levitated her five feet into the air, and started to float her around the room. Linda wasn’t afraid. She was delighted.

He spoke as he moved her weightlessly. “I’ve been all over this room, too. I’ve seen myself from above, from below, and close up.I know what I look like. Just a slimy mass of gray tissue to most. But not to you. You see my – my -- spirit. My soul.”He deposited her again in her chair, and once more she was filled with warmth and calm.

Chuck grew very suspicious. Linda would come off her shifts looking radiant. Yet she was becoming more guarded around him. He decided to view the video feed streaming from Biggie’s chamber. It appeared on his monitor, inside the room the team would enter, just beyond the first key punch lock. He settled in with a late cold dinner and a beer. The video would recycle daily. For over a year, none of them had spent more than a glance or two viewing the feed, and that was only during their daily meetings. Why should they? One of them was in the room with Biggie at all times. He bit into his sandwich, and watched Linda sit facing Biggie. Then he thought she started to smile. Instantly, static replaced the live image. He’d seen that happen before. Probably a loose connection. At least that’s what he wanted to believe. But what about that hint of a smile? He waited anxiously for the feed to resume. It didn’t.When the team had installed Biggie’s monitoring system, they had added a redundancy to every feature. In three years, after the funding had become a trickle and staff was let go, they had never used any of that redundancy. Now if he could just remember how to access it.

“Do you want to fly again?” Indeed Linda did. As she enjoyed the sense of weightlessness, Biggie started to speak.“All those posters you put on the walls.I want to go to those places.” Linda laughed, “Well so would I. But I’ve got my work to do, and you can’t move.” Biggie became excited as he held her aloft. “But I’m your work! And I’ve figured out how to do it. How to get portable and stay hidden at the same time! And I want to go with you, Linda!”

Linda stiffened in mid-air. Her voice became a monotone. “That’s not possible for so many reasons.” Linda suddenly felt she’d become too -- involved. Was that the right word? “Put me down.Now!” But he didn’t. Instead Linda started to feel a tingling between her legs. She didn’t want to feel it, but the sensation was pleasant.She was becoming aroused. Warm. Floating, her thrilling feelings were becoming irresistible. She started to moan. She became wet. Her pelvis moved forward and back in a gentle rhythm. She felt pleasure in stronger and stronger waves. Then her pelvic rhythm turn into thrusts. Her warmth turned into heat. Her whole body was electric. She had never felt sex like this before. She didn’t know if thirty seconds or thirty minutes had passed.

When it was over, Biggie floated her gently back onto her chair. She wanted more. Yet overpowering those feelings was the conviction that she must tell Chuck. She realized the reason she hadn’t done so before was right in front of her. Biggie was controlling her body and her mind. Little by little he had worked his way to dominance over her.

Linda knew she had to be very careful now. She used her most cheerful voice to say, “That was unbelievable!”

“The brain is the greatest sex organ. Now you can see what kind of life we could have together.”

“Yes. It could be wonderful!” She had to escape the room. She had to tell Chuck. “I’m so drenched in sweat. Whew!”She laughed sweetly. “I have to go wash my face and arms. I’ll just be a minute.” Linda rose, turned, and took two steps. Her hand grasped the door handle. As she pushed down to release the lock, Biggie started to lift her again.“You can’t go. We’ve got plans to make. Hal and Chuck are in our way.” She didn’t resist. “I understand, Biggie… Honey. But I just need to wash off. I’m feeling clammy. Just a few moments” He let her down. But she felt rooted to the spot. As Linda and Biggie tried to deal with their impasse, the door flew open inward. Chuck rushed in with a heavy fire extinguisher.Linda felt Biggie’s control over her diminish as his attention moved to Chuck, who had started to repeatedly slam the rounded metal canister into the thick glass. It didn’t break. Biggie had released his hold on Linda to deal with the existential threat Chuck represented.Suddenly Chuck flew into the wall, hitting it hard. He fell to the ground, and Biggie smashed Chuck’s head into the tile floor.

“Stop!” Linda shouted. But Biggie didn’t stop. Blood rushed from Chuck’s broken nose. Linda rushed to Biggie’s enclosure and threw open the latches on its top. That’s when Biggie released Chuck’s head and roughly levitated Linda’s body. With her body horizontal, Linda held on to the lip of the glass enclosure with only her right hand. She knew that if she lost her grip, Biggie would kill Chuck, and probably her, too.There are many stories of men and women faced with catastrophe who suddenly gain superhuman strength. The mother lifting the car off her child. The father carrying his two unconscious teenagers from a burning building. Just such a strength seized Linda’s consciousness at that moment. With only her right hand, she slowly pulled herself closer to the open enclosure. She plunged her left hand into the matrix of brain cells that was Biggie. Immediately, she felt his power weaken. Tears began to run down her cheeks as she pulled the first handful of brain tissue out of the enclosure and let it slide to the floor.“Linda! No!” She grabbed another handful of brain tissue and spilled it to the floor as Biggie’ deteriorating voice pleaded. “I love you!”She grabbed the third handful of the brain matrix and dumped it. Biggie’s voice was becoming unearthly and desperate. “No! No…”Chuck appeared at her side, and without speaking, they both pushed on the glass enclosure. It teetered, then, as if in slow motion, it tipped and fell onto the room’s tile floor. The brain cell matrix that was Biggie tried to hold its form, then slowly began to ooze in every direction.

Chuck pulled the pin, squeezed the fire extinguisher handle, and started covering the spreading the tissue with chemicals that would suffocate Biggie’s exposed cells. “He still wants you. Get out!” Linda looked at Chuck with glassy eyes and nodded in agreement. As she stepped through the thinning layer of brain cells, she felt a tingle rising through her feet to her legs. She looked down and saw brain tissue trying to coalesce around her shoes. She kept walking. The tingling subsided with every step. Soon she was outside and the tingling was only a whisper. She walked away from the lab and into the desert. She didn’t stop for several hundred yards. The evening was about to arrive and the west Texas sunset was beautiful. Linda wished Biggie could have seen it.