It’s one of the first warm days of the year and everyone wants to be outdoors instead of at their desks, including me. It has been a long, cold winter and the lure of the blue skies and sunshine are irresistible. I cannot wait for my lunch hour and the opportunity to spend some time in the sunshine and warmth, especially since it will probably be cold and damp again tomorrow. Winter gives up its grip just one day at a time and today’s grip is looser.
The clock creeps slowly but even winter cannot affect the passage of time, and soon enough I am able to log out of my computer, grab my purse and coat and head for the elevator that will release me from the great indoors. First I stop and buy lunch from the cafe in the lower level and then with meal in hand I head for the revolving doors that lead to the small park behind this cluster of buildings.
I drink in that first taste of warm air and sunshine. This is a special moment that only happens once a year and I relish it for a few minutes. I want to lock this memory in to sustain me until every day is warm and winter is only a memory. Knowing that the lunch hour will speed by too quickly, I walk into the park and look for a place to enjoy my meal and the warmth. The park is filled with people who have had the same idea as me, but I find a bench near the drained and empty fountain that has just one person on it, a man reading his newspaper. As I sit on the other end of the bench he glances at me, smiles briefly, and then returns to his paper. I quickly eat my sandwich and sip my soft drink and relish this hour of freedom. The man beside me continues to page through his paper and the rustling as he turns the pages distracts me. I look to my right and see the headline on the paper. In a blink it has my complete attention. PHANTOM MEMORIES CREATED BY CHEMISTRY! I look at the name of the newspaper and realize that it is just a rag, the type of paper that prints stories about alien abductions. I return my attention to enjoying the hour and resolve to block this man and his newspaper from my senses.
A few minutes later the man closes the paper and then drops it on the bench as he walks away. I continue to ignore it but the more I try, the more I am drawn to that headline. Finally I give in to urge, pick up the paper, and begin reading the story. “Neuroscientists have discovered a way to erase and create new memories using a chemical cocktail. This has great implications for treatment of patients who are plagued by memories that cause pain or are even harmful. The lead scientist is especially hopeful that this will revolutionize treatment of Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome.” The story went into some of the complexities of the chemistry and I skipped down a few paragraphs, not interested in the science. A new paragraph began with, “But what of the implications of this new science?” I am tempted to discard the paper, because surely this is where the story will dissolve into something crazy, but I was having some of those same thoughts myself. What could this science do in the wrong hands?
“Opponents to this new treatment fear that it could also be warped and used for evil. Someone with enough money and power could buy this treatment and use it to change memories of their enemies or even loved ones. The government could use this to control the people.” “Other industries express great excitement at the uses for this, especially the entertainment and travel industries. People can buy memories of a vacation or create a memory of themselves as the main character in a favorite movie.”
The last paragraph of the story is the most troubling for me. “When asked how long the effects of these memories might last, the neuroscientists were unable to give a definitive answer. ‘The test subject who has retained the memories the longest, who received the highest dose of the compound, has retained the memories for eight months.’ When pressed further, the neuroscientists chose to end the interview with a promise for updates.”
I throw the paper down, a little disgusted with myself for getting sucked into the story. I doubt that any of it is true and resolve not to think about this anymore. As I turn my face back to the sunshine I hear a voice behind me, interrupting my reverie. “We will have to give her another dose but we need to erase the memories that that lab tech tried to feed her.” “Indeed,” said a different voice. “He was creative, trying to use the memory of a false news story in order to clue her in to her true status.” "How long can we keep this up?" The first voice says, "She responded to our ad to take part in a clinical trial, and so far she is our only successful subject. Are you developing qualms as well?" As he speaks, the lovely day fades around me….
It’s one of the first warm days of the year and everyone wants to be outdoors instead of at their desks, but not me. I will spend my lunch hour at my desk and continue to work……
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