Bicameral Stutter

CW: Themes of mental health issues and gore.

Standard Transference Protocol:

Subject enters EDP (Entanglement and Discorporation Pod)

Connection established with destination ERP (Enmeshment and Reconstruction Pod)

Matter and signal entanglement verified

Neural pathways mapped to digital landscape

Neural synchronicity with destination verified

Vitals halted to terminate consciousness

Form dissolved into MV (Matter Vat)

Recostruction: Form Reconstituted at destination in growth chamber

Enmeshment: neural pathways synchronized

Vitals restored

Subject given five minutes to acclimate in isolation.

Subject must complete entire cycle and neural pathways cleared from storage, before next Subject allowed through. Chance of Bicameral Stutter: Non-zero.

The speaker screeched before the voice issued, tinny and robotic, from the speaker above the two way mirror opposite Sophia

Skrrtch “Relay your baseline. One more time, please.”

She stared at herself, haggard and bedraggled and decidedly not herself. The face that looked back was younger, a twelve year old boy’s. She sobbed, and so the reflected boy sobbed. She struggled against the straps holding her to the full body cushioned chair, and so the boy did as well. One leather band stretched taught over his forehead hodling their head in place. Oh god its starting she thought. I’m starting to think of this as us.

The voice waited. Through the mirror she could see the room, what little there was. Four walls, all white, padded. The door was seamless. She knew where to look at but couldn’t make out any irregularity. It made her doubt her own mind. But then, that was the point.

“My name is Sophia Delaine.” You don’t notice the vibration of your vocal cords in your own body. She couldn’t ignore it in this one, the tight hum tickling her esophagus. Sophia cleared her throat after each sentence to keep from coughing. “I entered the transference pod as myself, a thirty seven year old female psychologist, travelling to the Tangaroa system, planet Maku. I woke up in this.”

The speaker screeched, as it did every time there was a prolonged delay. Skrrtch. “Expound.”

“This body. Body. Body of a twelve year old b-boy.” Her eyes flicked with each stutter.

“A situation of Bicameral Stutter.”

“Which everyone has been told was a MYTH. That it was impossible!”

Skrrtch. “Nothing is impossible.”

“No shit.” She laughed despite the tears.

“Continue.”

“I woke up in this. I experienced a mental break. Borderline psychotic. Brain had trouble processing things, understandably I might add. I was taken to a facility where I’ve been experimented on and tortured and had every human right violated without so much as an explanation as to why!”

Time passed in silence. A minute. An hour. She couldn’t be sure. Everything buzzed like a low current was coursing through her body, muscles spasmed at random. Her mind winced at aches this body didnt feel only to have the area cramp in a psychosomatic response.

Skrrtch. “It has been explained before but I will again. There was an occurrence of Bicameral Stutter during your transfer. As per the teleportation protocols, the map of your mind was uploaded your ID. Then your matter was disseminated and quantumly entangled with matter at the destination in Maku. Your form was reconstructed perfectly and your precise mind was uploaded to it.”

“And yet.” She stared at her reflection.

“We don’t know the cause. It has never occurred during transferences over greater distances or lesser. There is a range where this will sometimes happen. Perhaps some sort of cosmic interference. We have designated the area as the Bicameral Range.”

Sophia’s laugh was bitter. “What happened to the boy?”

Skrrtch. “Temen Agrodee is fine. His body was duplicated and his mind tethered to the new form.”

“So my mind and his body were duplicated?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“The same unknown anomaly caused both, we assume.”

“Fucking perfect.”

“How did you sleep?”

“Awful.”

“Expound.”

She squeezed her small child eyes shut, squeezing out more tears. “You keep drugging me. The drugs are giving me nightmares. Thats all.”

No response.

“Drugs have side effects. As does sleep deprivation. Stress. Everything can cause bad dreams.”

Silence.

“My mind was uploaded into a childs body AND my own. That would fuck anyone up.”

Nothing.

“It was an eye. Big. Black but backlit like an eclipse. Iris like a matte sun that sank into forever.” She struggled against the restraints. The small body shuddered with her effort.

Skrrtch. “You’re getting worked up. You need rest.”

“No!” she shouted in a the voice of a child. “I don’t belong here!”

Cold flooded her veins through the IV in her neck.

Skrrtch. “Sophia.”

The eyes of the little boy stared at the reflection in the mirror. Dark circles hung like bruises beneath the eyes. They blinked.

“Sophia.”

She cleared her throat. Spoke. Twitched through the stutter. “What. Do. You. Want from me?”

“How are you feeling?”

“Im forty years younger. Why does my back still ache?”

“Psychosomatic Refactoring. It’s not uncommon.”

Sophia blinked. “So there are others. How many?”

“Take me through your baseline please.”

Her smile worked half his face like a stroke. “No. No. No. No more of that.”

“Is that a stutter or did you find your cadence?”

“What is my cadence?”

A long pause. Skrrtch. “Nevermind. Tell me about your dreams.”

“I don’t want to talk about the eye cause. I. Am. Not. I anymore.”

“Expound.”

“These are not my eyes. Not my voice. This brain does not know my thoughts so my thoughts become stuttery.”

“The theory is a neural pathway embedded on a brain whos sulci and gyri were already imprinted upon will try to use the previous imprinted pathways and the embed at the same time causing the stutters.”

“Theory based on just. Just. Just. Just me or are there others?”

“Tell me about your dreams.”

“Why do you want to know about my dreams? I don’t want. Want. Want to think about the dreams about the eye. Eye. Eye. I do not belong here.”

Their body began to shake. Rattling in the restraints.

“Sophia, calm down.”

“You. You. You. You knew this was happening. Why. Why-”

The machines hissed as sedatives were pumped into her veins.

Skrrtch. “Get some rest Professor Delaine.”

Skrrtch. “How are you feeling Sophia?”

The left eye flitted about as if following insects only she could see. The right remained fixed on the reflection in the mirror, wide and watering.

“Sophia? Can you hear me?”

The small body cleared its throat before speaking in a hoarse, ragged voice. “Please. Please. Please. Please make it stop. I don’t want to sleep anymore.”

“You have to sleep to survive, Professor.”

“I don’t want to sleep anymore.”

“Why?”

The eyes blinked at different rhythms, looking around the room untethered to each other until they focused on the mirror, above her reflection. “I can see you. You. You. You are searching for something.”

Sketch. “What do you mean you can see me?”

“How many more are there like me?”

“Enough for a viable dataset.”

“How long?”

Skrrtch “Since the beginning.”

“What. What. What. What is the focal point?”

“We don’t know.”

“You have theories. You must. Must. Must. MUST know something more than this!”

Skrrtch. “There is an anomaly. A black hole has an unbroken line of connectivity to all the locations afflicted with Bicameral Stutter. No celestial bodies cross paths. No asteroids, planets, stars, or galaxies. Ever.”

“That c-c-c-can’t be the only-ly-ly-ly thing. It can’t be that unusual, the universe is almost. Almost. Almost. Almost empty!” The ragged voice rose in panic and desperation.

“Apparently it is that unusual. Its only a working theory, the black hole is hundreds of light years away.”

The child body squeezed its eyes shut and jaw tightening, words squeezed through clenched teeth. “Does. It. Glow. Like a burning eye?”

Skrrtch “It is wrapped in a nebula so appears to have a glowing corona.”

Their mouth peeled open in a wail. “It see’s us and knows. Knows. Knows. Knows what we’re trying to do. Don’t-Don’t-Don’t-Don’t let it see. Me. Anymore. Please!”

The heartrate monitor spiked and the IV unit administred sedatives.

Skrrtch “Good morning Professor.”

The eyes remained closed. “You’re. Growing. More. Distant.”

“Expound.”

“You no longer call me Sophia.”

“Would you like me to?”

The eyes opened. The pupils had expanded. Not dilated. The brown of her iris had spilled into the sclera. They shuddered back and forth in her eyesocket. “I don’t care.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Whats wrong with my eyes?”

Skrrtch. “A prolapsed iris and distorted pupil.”

“You’re not. Not. Not. Not surprised by this.”

“It was expected.”

“What’s. Going. To. Happen after this?”

“Iridocorneal endothelial syndrome.”

“Cause?”

“There are growths in your brain causing a variety of issues. Some pressing against your optic nerves.”

Their body shuddered in the restraints briefly.

“Seizures among them.”

They blinked away tears that were thick and viscous and spoke in the voice of a scared child. “Am I going to die?”

Skrrtch “We all do eventually. Tell me about your dreams.”

“The eye.”

“Expound.”

“it sits. In. The. Sky. Watching me cower and whimper. It wants. Only. To. Show. Me everything it has witnessed. I. Don’t. Want. To. See what it has seen. It. It. It. It. Doesn’t understand want only hunger. Hunger. Hunger. HUNGER AND SHARING.”

“Calm down Professor.”

“It. Eats. And. Screams into the howling void. I. Don’t. Want. To be part of it, but I. Eye. I am no longer me and I. Eye. Eye. Eye is all that waits for me.”

Skrrtch “Why do you think that?”

They laugh. It is not in one voice but both the middle aged woman and young boy. “There. Are. No. Words in the great empty. Keep. Keep. Keep. Keep me away from it. No. More. Sleep. Please. I cannot survive this way!”

“You can.”

The mania passed and they panted at the reflection, calming breath by breath. “How long? Your oldest. Subject. How. Long did they last?”

Skrrtch “Decades.”

“I see. See. See. See there is no escape.”

“You did escape, Professor.”

“No. I. Didn’t. I. Died a couple days ago.”

Skrrtch “Expound.”

They grinned, half their mouth curling up higher than the other, the muscles of the face bunching so a line perfectly bisected the face. “I felt it. When I blinked. Out. Like. A candle in a hurricane. Why don’t you tell me?”

Skrrtch “There was an accident. Nobodies fault. ”

They smiled. “So. I’m. Dead.

“You are alive.”

“Some life. Life. Life. Life without a reason.”

Skrrtch “There is always a reason to live.”

But their eyes flickered in different directions, the halves of their face cycling through emotional caricatures. Their breathing became sporadic. A panic attack set in. Sedatives were administred.

The medical readouts said they were awake. The body twitched and spasmed as if afflicted by random electrical shocks even when asleep. Each breath was shallow slow. The camera watched, speaker silent. It took ten minutes before Sophia spoke. “What. Do. You. Want?”

Skrrtch “Hello Professor.”

They waited.

Skrrtch “How did you sleep?”

“Bad.”

“Expound.”

When their eyes opened the iris and pupil were pooled at the bottom like dressing left alone until the oil separated. “Fuck. You.”

There was a long pause before the speaker screetched again, the volume high enough to make them wince. Skrrtch “We started out amiably because it helps the transition. We are past that now, so I will be blunt. This is a kindness, not cruelty. You will not leave. You will be force fed and hydrated. You will be monitored. Questioned. Participation can be rewarded. Refusal will be punished.”

“You. Can’t. Do. This.”

“You could make the case that we shouldn’t. But we are. Whatever arguments you wish to make about bridges yet crossed, I can assure you. They have been crossed. Now that the rules have been established, tell me about your dreams.”

“What. Are. The. Experiment’s parameters?”

“To find the cause of Bicameral Stutter by first searching for common threads between the afflicted.”

“What. Are. Your. Findings?”

“None that we have discovered.”

Half their faced grinned, the other half frowned. “Conjectures?”

“That the unbroken line of sight of the black hole is throwing some sort of radiation or radio signal that interferes with the transference. If bypassed by taking several transference routes around the LOS, there has yet to be an instance of Bicameral Stutter.”

Sophia scoffed. It came out in both voices and half second apart. “You. Have. A. Workaround but still you let us. Take. The. Risk. Of. Ending up a shattered person?”

Skrrtch. “It was decided that the occurrence is rare enough to be acceptable since the transferred minds still end up in the correct bodies. Nothing to notice outside. Interstellar travel has been deemed too important to simply apply workarounds without knowing the why of such an event. We MUST understand if we are to keep using this technology and exploring the universe. There are new discoveries every day. What were once considered universal constants have proved more malleable the more the universe is explored.”

Both sides of the face grimaced. “Rare. Enough. Fuck. You.”

“Yes. Because there was no measurable loss of life. Subjects still reached their destination in their correct bodies. Compared to when the technology was first established and used without our regulations and safeguards, it is quantifiably nothing.”

“No loss. Loss. Loss. Loss of life? Then what. Am. I?”

“An anomaly.”

“Do. I. Have. A. Soul?”

“If your beliefs allow room for it, perhaps you have two.”

An animal growl came from her throat. “What. Can. You. Learn from me and the others like me?”

“The brain seems to retains a, for lack of a better word, memory of the mind it had. A new mind embedded into it causes some concerning idiosyncrasies.”

“Ghosts. In. The. Machine.”

“Yes. Perhaps we should have involved you in the research, Professor Delaine.”

When they laughed it was forced and broken. “Ha. Ha. Ha. I’d never have sold out my ethics.”

“Ethics,” the voice over the speaker drawled. “Would never have allowed the creation of a technology where you are duplicated, killed, and reconstructed at another location. Yet you knew thats what it did and used it anyway.”

“I. Didn’t. Know. I. Thought it was safe to use.”

“We only consider anything safe because we’ve used it long enough to know the risks or figure out how to beat the risks.”

“I. Don’t. Want. To. Do this anymore just let me die.”

“Im sorry, Professor. There’s still so much more to learn.

Sedatives flooded her system.

Skrrtch “Tell me about your dreams, Professor.”

The body no longer responded to her attempts to move, but twitched and spasmed according to signals she wasn’t sending. Incontinent. Prone to bouts of screaming. The lips were chewed to ribbons. Old blood stained their teeth. Whenever they spoke the words were slurred.

“My. God. Please. Free me from this endless nightmare. I. Don’t. Want. The. Eye to stare into my-Don’t. Mind. Me. My mind is almost gone forever. It. Is. Always. Hungry for what I cannot know. Eat. Eat. Eat. Eat. Eating is all it ever wants!”

“Calm down Professor.”

“There. Is. No. Calm in all the space between. Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold between the stars and minds. We. Are. Not. Alone. The lights don’t yet know that we exist.”

“Sophia. Expound.”

Another broken laugh. It started small then escalated into howls of laughter indistinguishable from screams.

Sedatives flooded her system. She slept. Slept. Slept. Slept but didn’t really rest. Dreams. Dreams. Dreams. Dreams. Dreaming of the cosmic eye.