Evolution.

Trigger warnings: rape, murder, suicide

Evolution.

“Don’t resist. Please, don’t resist me, it’s my first time too. Just relax, please don’t scream. Just remember, you’re a scientist first and foremost. I won’t do anything peculiar, I don’t believe I can. I’m uptight too, but I’ve had more time to think of this, in fact, I half thought it wouldn’t work at all, although theory pointed to it being a success.”

Russell Newcomb was trying to keep Felicity Ambrose calm during the first successful induction of him as a completely portable and intelligent rational psyche within her own body, or at least, head. She had understood what was to be done, but the intellectual understanding didn’t encompass the reality. She wanted to scream, but her upbringing and subsequent education as a biophysicist allowed her to restrain herself from this desirable reaction. However, she couldn’t speak, couldn’t even form the words in her head to respond in any rational manner. Fortunately, this inhibition soon fell away and she was able to say a trite and obvious comment of, “It worked.”

Although a scientist, Felicity would not have lent herself into an experiment of this nature without her being in a position which she found as somewhat untenable. She had murdered four young men by cutting each of their throats. Although incarcerated for this violent act, she had no regrets. She would do it again if she was in a position to do so, and the motivation was as sufficient. The four ‘victims’ of her knife had gang-raped her daughter Caroline, who had subsequently committed suicide.

The four young men were from a level of society that was strewn with judges and lawyers and who managed to get the rapists sentenced to home detention because of their youth and being out of control because of alcohol and drugs. The excuse did not cause Felicity to consider putting any restraint upon her intentions.

Felicity knew she was uncommonly beautiful at the age of thirty-five and counted upon this to carry out her plan at the expiry of the rapist’s minuscule sentences.

She guessed they would celebrate their release together. She also suspected there would be a degree of ostracism from their peers for a start and counted upon that to get closely acquainted. Using a very modern haircut and disguising makeup, she had feigned a slight inebriation and wantonness and succeeded in enticing them to take her to a hotel. She promised them a riotous time, but roofied them instead and cut their throats.

Although the public sympathised with her, the establishment didn’t. The boyish fun couldn’t be condoned, they said. An example had to be set to prevent future youth from being subject to such draconian measures of retribution and a judge jailed her for a minimum of twenty years. However, an enlightened Minister of government made sure her ‘brains’ would not go to waste during the incarceration. His influence enabled her to carry on with some of her already important work in the corrective facility by providing scientific provisions for her to work.

Russell Newcomb was a scientific investigator of the first order but differed from practically all of his colleagues in that he didn’t believe our consciousness resulted from electrical currents darting hither and thither in the grey-matter. He maintained it was of a vibrational nature. Not necessarily do we exist as a vibration, but utilising vibrations to connect with the world via the brain. He was convinced that the life force was essentially spiritual and had found enough evidence to prove for himself of its portability, He was of the super-rich and could afford to indulge himself in any manner he wished. However, his immediate research came to a halt with an accident from which he became paralyzed from the neck down.

Over the next three years, Russell with eyesight manipulation of computers and devices and the aid of fellow researchers, he became convinced he had, at last, the mechanism with which he could transfer consciousness, in other words, ‘him’ to a new home. His interest was not foremost in his mind to become mobile again, but the sheer ability to be able to do it. But who would submit themselves to this task, a question that was soon resolved by being contacted by Felicity herself?

She had been following Russell Newcomb’s research with great interest, even though she thought the possible sharing of a small space with another might just throw up a few difficulties, to say the least. However, she was game. Her own activities were hindered by the paucity of equipment, even though being grateful for what she had.

She tended toward the brain being not only the seat of consciousness but somehow being it. She was open-minded enough as well as desperate to take on this venture. If she died because of it, c'est la vie, or at least, c’est la mort.

                                                            *

The next words from Felicity was a request. “Do you mind if I have a little scream?”

 Russell wanted to shout with glee himself, but the body although restrained on an examining table started to wriggle in an agitated fashion. Russell realized that mixed messages were being sent out to the rest of the body and he quickly calmed himself to allow the body to come to rest.

“I don’t really know what I expected,” said Russell, “But I’d better try to stay very calm or I’ll upset the ship.”

“I don’t know what’s happening completely, either. I feel stirrings that are not familiar to me. In fact, if I had this in my usual mode, I would say I was sickening for something.”

Whilst this was going on with Russell and Felicity, Russell's colleagues were hovering over Felicity but remaining mute. Russell had said that if successful an obvious period of adjustment would be needed and for them to just monitor and watch.

Felicity and Russell’s communication had been, you could say, just in the head and now Russell suggested to Felicity to say something with her body’s voice if she could, and she could. Her first words startled the people looking on.

“He’s in here with me, and I’m scared he’s going to give me conniptions.” To lessen the gravity of the remark, she gave a little laugh. This caused shouts of merriment and a barrage of questions which Felicity shut down by asking them to curtail their own enthusiasm for a while whilst she got used to a strange man getting into her pants without ulterior motives. This naturally brought laughter and relief among the colleagues and the sensibility that this earth-shattering experiment had initially proven successful.

Russell didn’t know if his intentions would have any effect in the governing of Felicity’s body, but he had seen that the body had responded to something and asked her if he could try to move a limb. She said okay but no wildness and to keep her hands to himself.

“Oh, Felicity, you wonderful creature. How many others could have taken to this extraordinary circumstance without going bonkers. I’m used to doing everything in my head, but not you. However, here goes.”

Apart from a few shakes, the limbs stayed without any real movement.

“It could be just unfamiliarity,” he said. “In fact, I’m not sure that it’s desirable anyway.”

“I think,” said Felicity, “It wouldn’t be very desirable at all. Jesus Christ, couples have enough problems trying to go the same way anyway. By the way, I’m surprised how quickly I’m getting used to this ‘in my head’ thing, but what use will it be except for pretty spectacularly upsetting a whole industry that holds with the ‘Man from Mud’ contention? Am I going to be able to get rid of you back to your ordinary habitat now you’ve proved the principle?”

“Good point, girl. But can I swan along with you for a bit until we both test out the limits of this? It appears you are so well ensconced that It would be detrimental to your survival if I did have a measure of influence in the motor-functions of your body.”

Felicity's body was unstrapped and she was able to walk around without undue difficulty. The pair communicated their individual experiences over the next few hours to their colleagues and answered as well as they could the questions fired at them. Felicity asked Russell if he felt tired, but said he didn’t, but she should rest. He wanted to know what would happen when she dreamed.

Felicity’s dreaming was another breakthrough of a sort. She dreamed of her daughter and identified with her rape and death and the manifestation of it threatened to engulf Russell himself. It took all of his disciplines to not be absorbed into it, but at the same time, his investigatory curiosity held him entranced. Other dreams relating to being jailed were minor by comparison and he let himself sink into them and experienced them as she did. When she awakened and felt rested he told of his own experience with her dreams and suggested something quite radical.

“Would you be willing for us to coalesce? I mean, we are not substantial in the physical sense of the term, I think we could meld. It doesn’t mean we would lose our own personalities but we could certainly be closer than we’ve ever been in life to someone.”

“But,” said Felicity, “As they say, if the wind changes, we might be stuck with each other, never the twain shall part. Besides, I take an unconscionable amount of time putting on my makeup and the thought of you sighing, not in my ear, but throughout my being, would be too much to bear. However, yes, we are scientists, what the fuck, start blending.”

And blend they did. For a start, there was an automatic scrambling to maintain some sense of personal identification but that fell away as the amalgam was complete; a fully integrated beingness much more than it once was and revelling in its maturity into Homo Novus.