Cascade Point and Other Stories Part 28

It has been less than a month now since the sealed personal files of the late Daniel Staley have been opened, but already the rumors are beginning to be heard: rumors that explosive new information concerning the Lifeline Experiment has been uncovered. Though these rumors contain a grain of truth, they are for the most part the products of prejudice and hysteria, and it is in an effort to separate the truth from the lies that I have consented to write this report. Since, too, I find that even after twenty years a great number of popular misconceptions still surround the experiment itself, I feel it is necessary for me to begin with a full recounting of those controversial events of 1994.

I suppose I should first say a word about my credentials. I became Dr. Staley's private secretary in 1989 and continued in this role full-time until his tragic death.

My usefulness to him stemmed from my eidetic memory which, especially when coupled with his telepathic abilities, made me a sort of walking information retrieval system for him. It is also the reason I can claim perfect accuracy for my memories of the events and conversations I am about to describe.- The popular press usually credits Dr. Staley with coming up with the Lifeline Experiment idea on his own, but the original suggestion actually came from the Reverend Ron Brady in mid-January of 1994. Brady, a good friend of Dan's, was driving us back to San Francisco from a seminar on bioethics at USC and the conversation, almost inevitably, turned to the subject of abortion.

"You realize last week's decision makes the third time the Supreme Courts reversed itself in the last twenty years," Brady commented. "I think that must be some kind of record."

"I wasn't keeping score, myself," Dan replied, stretching his legs as far as the seat permitted. It had been a hard weekend for him, I knew; though it had been over two years at that point since the National Academy of Sciences had officially certified his telepathic ability, there were still a few die-hard skeptics around determined to prove he was a fraud. From the number of handshakes I'd seen him wince over I gathered most of the doubters must have converged on USC for the weekend, and he was only now beginning to relax.

"It's crazy." Brady shook his head. "The legality of something like that shouldn't change every time a new administration sets up shop in Was.h.i.+ngton. It makes for emotional and legal chaos all around and gives the impression that there are no absolute standards of morality at all."

Dan shrugged. "You know me, Ron. I believe in letting people do what they like in this life, on the theory that whatever they do wrong will catch up with them in the next."

Brady smiled lopsidedly. "The laissez-faire moralist. But don't we have an obligation to help our fellow men minimize the problems they'll have in the next life? That seems to me a perfectly good rationale for the inclusion of morality in law."

Dan reached a hand back over the seat toward me. "Iris: a devastating quotation to put this fellow in his place, if you please."

I made no move to take his hand. "I'm sorry, Dr. Staley," I said primly, "but it would be unethical for me to help you in your arguments. Especially against a man of the cloth."

He chuckled, threw me a wink, and withdrew his hand. "Seriously, though, I don't see how you can expect anything but political flip-flopping when you have an issue that's so long on emotion and so short on real scientific fact. A human fetus is alive, certainly; but so are mosquitoes and inflamed tonsils. When a fetus becomes a human being and ent.i.tled to society's protection is something we may never know."

"True." Brady glanced at Dan. "Maybe you ought to try contacting a fetus telepathically someday; see if you can figure it out."

"Sure," Dan deadpanned. "I could go in claiming to be womb service or something."

Brady came back with a pun of his own, and the conversation s.h.i.+fted to the topic of microcurrent therapy for certain brain disorders, where it remained for the rest of the drive. But even though Dan didn't say anything about it for four months, it is clear in retrospect that Brady's not-quite-serious comment had taken root in his imagination. Even for somebody as phlegmatic as Dan, the possibility that he could take a swing at such a persistent controversy must have been an intriguing idea, especially after the weekend he'd just gone through. Unfortunately, it also is abundantly clear that he started things in motion without any real understanding of what he was getting himself into.

It was just before five o'clock on May 23, and I was preparing to go home when Dan called me into his office. "Iris, didn't I meet a couple of professors in the Child Development Department of Cal State Hayward down at USC last January?

What were their names?"

"Dr. Eliot Jordan and Dr. Pamela Halladay," I supplied promptly. "Do you want the conversation, too?"

He pursed his lips, then nodded. "I'd better. I'm pretty foggy on what they were like."

I sat down next to him and took his hand in mine. Even now there are many people who don't realize that Dan's telepathy required some form of physical contact with his subject. They envision him tapping into the secrets of government or industry from his San Mateo home. In reality a moderately thick s.h.i.+rt would block his reception completely.

The conversation hadn't been very long to begin with, and playing it back took only a few seconds. When I'd finished, Dan let go and frowned off into s.p.a.ce for a moment, while I played the conversation back again for myself, wondering what he was looking for. "They both seemed pretty reasonable people to you, didn't they?" he asked, breaking into my thoughts. "Competent scientists, honest, no particular axes at the grindstone?"

"I suppose so." I shrugged. "It might help if you told me what you had in mind."

He grinned. "I'll show you. What's the phone number over there?"

I gave him the college's number, and within a few minutes he'd been routed to the proper department. "Of course I remember you, Dr. Staley," Dr. Jordan said after Dan had identified himself and mentioned their brief USC meeting. Even coming out of a tiny phone speaker grille, his voice sounded as full and hearty as it had in person. "It would be very hard to forget meeting such a distinguished person as yourself. What can I do for you?"

"How would you like to help me with an experiment that might possibly put the lid on the abortion debate once and for all?"

There was a long moment of silence. "That sounds very interesting," Jordan said, somewhat cautiously. "Would you care to explain?"

Dan leaned his chair back a notch and began to stroke his cheek idly with the end of his pencil. "It seems to me, Doctor, that the issue boils down to the question of when, exactly, the fetus becomes a human being. I believe that, with a little bit of practice, I might be able to telepathically follow a fetus through its entire development. With luck, I may be able to pin down that magic moment. At worst, I may be able to show that a fetus isn't human during the entire first month or trimester or whatever. Either way, an experiment like that should inject some new scientific facts into the issue."

"Yes," Jordan said slowly, "depending on whether your findings would be considered 'scientific' by any given group, of course." He paused. "I agree that it's at least worth some discussion. Can you come to Hayward any time this week to talk about it?"

"How about tomorrow afternoon?"

"Tomorrow's Tuesday... yes, my last cla.s.s is over at two."

"Good. I'll see you about two, then. Good-bye."

"Good-bye."

Dan hung up the phone and looked at me. "Does that answer your question?"

It took me a moment to find my voice. "Dan, you're crazy. How exactly do you propose to read a fetus's mind without climbing into the embryonic sac with it?"

"Via the mothers nervous system, of course. There must be neural pathways through the placenta and umbilical cord I can use to reach the fetus's brain."

"With the mother blasting away and drowning out whatever the fetus may be putting out?"

"Well, yes, I suppose that might be a problem," he admitted.

"And, even if you do manage to touch the baby's mind, are you even going to know it?" I persisted. "This isn't going to be like the colic studies you did with Sam Sheeler, you know-those babies were at least being exposed to a normal range of stimuli. What on Earth has a fetus got to think about?"He grinned suddenly. "I said it might take some practice." He stood up.

"Look, there's no sense dithering over these questions now. We'll go see Jordan tomorrow and hash it all out then. Okay?"

"All right," I said. "After all, if it doesn't work out, no one will ever have to know we came up with such a crazy idea."

"That's what I like about you, Iris: your confidence in me. See you tomorrow."

We arrived on the Hayward campus at two o'clock sharp the next day-and it took only ten minutes for my hopes of keeping this idea under wraps to be completely destroyed.

They were waiting for us outside the door to Jordan's office: a man and woman, both dressed in conservative business suits. I recognized them from TV news shorts of the previous year, but before I could clue Dan in they had stepped forward to intercept us. "Dr. Staley?" the man said. "My name's John Cooper; this is Helen Reese. I wonder if we might have a word with you?" He gestured down the hall to where the door of a small lounge was visible.

"We have an appointment with Dr. Jordan," I put in.

"He's not back from cla.s.s yet," Mrs. Reese said. "This will only take a few minutes, if you don't mind."

Dan shrugged. "All right," he said agreeably.

The others remained silent until we were seated in a small circle in a corner of the otherwise deserted lounge. "Dr. Staley, we understand you're planning some sort of experiment with Dr. Jordan to determine when life begins," Cooper said, leaning forward slightly in his chair. "We'd like to ask you a few questions about this, if we may."

Dan c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. "I fail, first of all, to see how you learned about my private conversation with Dr. Jordan," he said calmly, "and, secondly, to understand what business it is of yours."

"Mr. Cooper is the Bay Area president of the Family Alliance," I told him.

"Mrs. Reese is their chief antiabortion advocate."

They both looked at me with surprise. "I see," Dan nodded. "Well, that explains the second part of my question. You folks want to take a crack at the first part now?"

"How we heard about it is unimportant," Mrs. Reese said. "What is important is that we find out how you stand on the abortion issue."Dan blinked. "Why?"

"Surely, Doctor, you understand the highly subjective nature of the experiment you're planning," she said. "Naturally, we need to know what your own beliefs are concerning when life arises."

"My telepathic ability is not subjective," Dan said, a bit stiffly. "It's as scientific and accurate as anything you'd care to name. Whatever my beliefs happen to be, I can a.s.sure you they do not interfere with either my perception or interpretation."

"Beliefs always affect interpretation, to one degree or another," Cooper said.

"Now, you yourself said you could prove the fetus wasn't human until the second trimester of pregnancy. It seems to us that, with such an att.i.tude, you would be very likely to interpret any brain activity before that point as 'nonhuman,' whether it is or not."

Dan looked at me. "Iris?" he invited.

I nodded. "The exact quote, Dr. Cooper, was as follows: 'At worst, I may be able to show that a fetus isn't human during the entire first month or trimester or whatever.' End quote. Dr. Staley made no a.s.sumptions in that statement. I suggest you ask your spies to be more accurate in the future."

Reese bristled. "We weren't spying on anyone, Miss Marx; the information relayed to us was obtained quite legitimately."

"I'm sure it was," Dan said, getting to his feet. "Now if you'll excuse us, Dr.

Jordan is expecting us."

The rest of us stood, as well. "We haven't finished our conversation, though-" Cooper began.

"Yes, we have," Dan interrupted him. "If-if, mind you-I do this experiment it'll be because I'm convinced it can be done objectively and accurately. If you have any suggestions or comments you're welcome to write them up and send them to my office. Good day."

Threading between them, we left the lounge.

Jordan and Dr. Pamela Halladay were waiting for us when we arrived back at Jordan's office. "Sorry we're late," Dan told them after quick handshakes all around, "but we ran into the local ethics committee. Any idea how the Family Alliance might have overheard our conversation, Dr. Jordan?"

The two of them exchanged glances, then Jordan grimaced. "My secretary, probably," he said. "I called Pam right after I talked to you, and the door to her office was open. I'm sorry; it never occurred to me that she'd go off and tell anyone.""No harm done," Dan shrugged. "Let's forget it and get down to business, shall we?"

"Your idea sounds very interesting, Dr. Staley," Halladay said, "but I think there are one or two technical points that need clearing up. First of all, would you be following a single fetus from conception to term, or would you try to reach a group of fetuses at various stages of growth?"

"I hadn't really thought that much about it," Dan said slowly. "I suppose the second method would be faster."

"It would give better statistics, too," Jordan said. "What do you think, Pam- would a hundred be enough?"

"A hundred subjects?" Dan said, looking a little taken aback.

"Well, sure. If you want this to have scientific validity you'll need a reasonable sample. Why?-did you have a smaller number in mind?"

"Yeah. About ten." Dan frowned. "Maybe we could compromise at twenty- five or so."

"You cut the sample too small and it won't be scientific enough to satisfy the skeptics," Jordan warned.

"Whether it'll be scientific enough anyway was my second question,"

Halladay put in.

We all looked at her. "What do you mean?" Jordan asked.

"Oh, come on now, Eliot-the heart of the scientific method is the reproducibility of an experiment. With only one proven telepath on Earth, this one is inherently unrepeatable. Whatever Dr. Staley concludes we'll have to take on faith."

"Are you suggesting I might lie?" Dan asked quietly.

"No-I'm suggesting you might misinterpret what you hear. How are you going to know, say, whether the differences you see are human versus nonhuman or simply four months versus two months?"

Dan nodded. "I see. I wondered why you hadn't told Dr. Jordan you'd seen Cooper and Mrs. Reese loitering out in the hall earlier. You called them down on us, didn't you?"

Halladay's face reddened. "No, I... uh... look, I didn't expect anyone to come out here and ambush you like that. I just wanted to know whether you were pro- or antiabortion; if you'd ever taken a public stand on the issue. I mean, they keep files on that sort of thing."Jordan was looking at his co-worker as if she'd just shown a KGB members.h.i.+p card. "Pam! What on earth-"

"It's all right, Dr. Jordan. As I said before, no harm done." Dan turned to Halladay, and there was a glint in his eye I didn't often see. "I'll tell you what I told your friends: I'm not doing this to push anyone's opinions, and that includes any I might have. If you have to pigeonhole me anywhere, put me down as 'protruth.' I won't wear any other labels, understand?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, Doctor." She smiled wanly. "I guess I'm not immune to the emotions the whole subject generates. I'll keep my feelings to myself from now on-I promise."

"Will you prove your sincerity?" Dan leaned forward and offered his hand.

She frowned at it for a second before understanding flickered across her face.

Then, visibly steeling herself, she reached out and gingerly took his hand. They held the position for nearly twenty seconds before Dan released his grip and sat back. "Thank you," he said. "I'm sure you'll be a great help to us." Turning to Jordan, he nodded. "Now then, are we ready to begin working out some of the details?"

The discussion took nearly an hour, and the experimental design arrived at was essentially the one that was actually used later that year. Several important problems still remained, however, notably the question of masking the mothers thoughts while Dan tried to touch those of the fetus. From past experience we knew that a deep, sedative-induced sleep would probably do the trick, but Jordan was understandably opposed to giving large dosages of such drugs to pregnant women. The question of whether or not Dan could recognize humanness in a fetal mind at all also remained unanswered.

During the drive back to San Francisco, I asked Dan if Halladay could be trusted.

"I think so," he said. "I didn't see any evidence of duplicity when I touched her. And she was genuinely upset to find the Family Alliance people lying in wait for us."

"What about them? Do you think they'll make trouble?"

"How could they? Denouncing the experiment before it even takes place would make them look silly-especially since a check with Halladay will show them that the design still has some pretty basic problems. Saying this far in advance that they reject the results will leave them wide open to a charge that they're afraid of the truth."

Something in his voice caught my attention. "You sound less optimistic than you did yesterday," I said. "You thinking of calling it off?"

He was silent a long moment. "No, not really. It's just that the whole thing is getting more complicated than I'd envisioned it."

I shrugged. "True-but don't forget that it's your experiment. If you don't want to do things Jordan's way, all you have to do is say so."

"I know. But he's unfortunately got a good point: that if we don't at least take a stab at doing things rigorously, all we're going to do is throw more gasoline at the emotional bonfire." He paused. "Tell me, do you have any relatives or close friends who are pregnant?"

I blinked at the abrupt change of subject. "Yes-four to nine, depending on how close a friend you need."

"Let me have a fast rundown, will you?"

I drove one-handed for a while as I gave him a brief personality sketch of each of the nine women. Afterward he sat silently for several minutes, digesting it all. "What do you think Kathy would say if I asked to be present at her delivery?"

he said at last.

"I don't know," I said. "But I know the right person to ask."