Unleash the potential

Year 2099

"Everything ready?" The head researcher, Dr. Wolfstein, asked his team.

"Patient is stable." Wertheimer referred at the person clad in white, lying on the stretcher unconscious with his vital signs beeping away on the monitor. 49 years old, medical doctor, William Wertheimer had been friends with the head researcher for a long while up until the time when they took separate paths in their career, with him going into practical medicine and Wolfstein opting for medical research. William had curly brown hair inherited from his Belgian mother, dark eyes, short stature and a slightly crooked nose. After 15 years with no word from his friend, he suddenly received an invitation to participate in a medical research experiment together; they were in need of a trustworthy practical doctor. He accepted without much hesitation, eager to see his old friend and was put in charge of the patient for the experiment.

"Neurotransmitter ready." Johnson referred to the wire attached to the patient's head, just over the joint of the neck and skull. 33 years old, shaved head, brown eyes, broad stature and round face: Howard Johnson specialized in neuroscience, his fascination over the human mind never ceased to grow. It even crossed over into love; he married a neurobiologist soon after he graduated and currently has 2 children. He couldn't refuse the invitation to the experiment later on, going as far as leaving his family temporarily to move in the lab in the neighboring state. He singlehandedly designed and completed the neurotransmitter specifically for this experiment.

"Brain explorer prêt." Tremblay referred to the machine that materializes the contents in the part of the brain that it scans into images. 26 year-old French-Canadian brain surgeon, Bernard Tremblay was already known throughout the leading medical practitioners as a rising star in brain surgery. Long and straight blonde hair tied in a ponytail, sparkling blue eyes, tall and slim with a thin beard, he loves fondling brains as much as he loves fondling ladies. His mind only going forward, he himself requested to be part of the experiment, anxious to make his mark in the medical industry. Although he can't clearly speak English, his medical talent is nothing to sneeze at; he quickly learned how to operate the brain explorer and can now seek out any part of the brain he wants.

"Emergency abort system functional." said Orlov, ready to apply emergency shutdown at any sign of danger. 64 years old, Yuri Orlov was a long-standing Russian medical research veteran. Short gray hair, blue eyes, tall stature and a caricature square face, his wife having passed away a few years back he could only find solace in his work. After her death he realized he had never aspired to achieve anything, consequently he hadn't. This feeling created the main reason that made him accept the invitation to the experiment; he wanted to leave something concrete to the world before he retired, so he joined to share his experience and took charge of coordinating emergency procedures.

"Recipient ready." Ibuki referred to the silver sphere with the carving of an eye at the other end of the neurotransmitter. 25 years old, Haruka Ibuki is the only lab member that isn't a doctor; she's a craftswoman. Long black hair, skidded black eyes, perfect features, very short stature and a longing desire to run her hands through Tremblay's long blonde hair, she is the human replica of a Japanese doll. Her work being undermined in her home country because she was a woman, she couldn't refuse the chance to prove herself when an invitation to an American medical research experiment came to her doorstep. Her meticulous personality and her great craftsmanship were needed to design and build the perfect recipient for the experiment. Accordingly, she built the near-perfect sphere out of the special materials implemented by Dr. Wolfstein for their chemical properties.

All the lab members nodded towards the head researcher. It was an inspiring moment; they might be about to mark a defining point in history. Dr. Wolfstein took a deep breath, paused, years of his research were at stake. 53 years of age, out of which 32 were spent researching medicine. Maximilian Wolfstein was of German origin, but he was born in America. Short brown hair lined with gray, blue eyes, round face with brownish-gray beard growing out from lack of personal hygiene over the past 2 days. He stood at medium height with broad shoulders, wore small round glasses over his small nose and had 3 kids, but he hadn't spoken with them since the day of his divorce with his ex-wife 10 years ago. Ironically in that decade alone he made more progress in his research than he had in the rest of his career. He had spent more time in the laboratory than at home in the past year; all the lab members had. All their hard work, all their begging for subventions and financing; it all came down to this moment. He then raised his hand. "Begin the experiment!"

"On start ça." Tremblay pulled down the brain explorer's lever, starting up the machinery. A beam of light shot out of the ceiling over the patient's head and pin-pointed the frontal lobe.

Wertheimer surveyed the patient's monitor. "No abnormalities."

"Proceed to exploration." said Wolfstein.

Tremblay used the control stick and started to move the beam slowly.

"10 minutes to forced shutdown." Orlov reminded. Brain exploration could only be performed at 10 minutes intervals, once every 15 days else the patient would be at risk.

Tension filled the air as everyone waited for Tremblay's cue.

"7 minutes." Said Orlov.

"Hurry it up Bernie," Johnson pointed out, "I don't wanna spend 2 weeks doing nothing."

"J'trouve juste d'la marde à date."

"What did he say, William?" asked Wolfstein.

"I'm not sure, something about shit." he answered.

"Can't be more specific?" Johnson remarked.

"I'm sorry I learned my French in France and not in Canada." said Wertheimer.

"C'est du québécois tabarnac."

"6 minutes." Orlov stated.

"Oh j'lai vu! Erviens icite!" exclaimed Tremblay while going backwards a little with the beam.

Everyone tensed up and stood or sat at the ready, they didn't know what he said but it was clear that he was close.

Tremblay suddenly locked in the controls with a slam. "Je l'ai! Drette là, go!"

"He said he got it!" Wertheimer translated.

"Begin extraction!" ordered Wolfstein.

Johnson fired up his neurotransmitter and started moving things on his 3d screen with his right hand equipped with fingertip-sensors. "Localizing... Commencing extraction."

"5 minutes to shutdown." Orlov said.

"Patient's pulse is rising." mentioned Wertheimer.

"No abnormalities for the recipient." Ibuki observed.

"Keep proceeding with caution," warned Wolfstein, "things not going as planned is also ironically part of the plan."

The clock ticked away. "3 minutes."

"Extraction at 50%." stated Johnson.

"Scan the recipient for any rejections." ordered Wolfstein.

"Patient's pulse is still rising, he'll be at risk soon." Wertheimer pointed out.

"Scanning complete: no loss of data." Ibuki confirmed.

"Just a little more..." Wolfstein whispered.

"1 minute to shutdown." Orlov mentioned.

"Extraction at 96%." Johnson said, sweat running down his bald head. "97%... 98%... 99%... 100%!"

"Shut down immediately!" Wolfstein exclaimed.

Tremblay pushed up the explorer's lever and shut down all the machinery. The beam of light disappeared.

Johnson's screen which was connected to the brain explorer also vanished. He left it and went to remove the neurotransmitter from the patient's brain.

Ibuki detached it from the recipient on her end.

All was silent for a moment, except for a subtle beeping from Wertheimer's monitor. "Pulse slowing down, steadily going back to normal."

"Gentlemen... and lady," Wolfstein said, "the experiment is a success!"

Cries of joy echoed throughout the laboratory. Some of the lab members applauded themselves; their triumph was a hard-earned one.

Tremblay popped open a bottle of champaign that he had kept nearby, along with 6 glasses.

As Wertheimer stood up from his chair to join the 5 other members, he noticed some slight movement and a subtle groaning on the stretcher. He looked to the celebrating members. "Max, he's waking up."

Dr. Wolfstein looked back at Wertheimer and, seeing the patient moving, hurried over to him. "How's he looking?"

"I don't know yet." he answered him. He waved his hand over the patient's eyes, which followed the movement. "Can you hear me properly?"

"Mmm... yes."

"Alright, I'm going to ask you a couple questions to see if everything's in order. Okay?"

"Ok."

"Where are you?"

"In a laboratory, on a stretcher."

"What is your name?"

He said his name correctly.

"What did you eat for breakfast this morning?"

"Eggs, toasts and lots of bacon."

"Any plans for tonight?"

"Yes, meeting up with some ol' pals, catch up a little."

"Good, everything is fine." Wertheimer concluded. "You can stand up now, but do it slowly; you might feel a bit of nausea."

The patient hesitatingly stood up from the stretcher, breathed in deeply and grabbed his chest. "There's the nausea..."

"Brain exploration tends to do that." Dr. Wolfstein told him. He extended his hand for a handshake. "I'm happy to announce that the experiment was a complete success."

The patient shook the doctor's hand. "Yes, it was kind of obvious with the champaign." he said, pointing at the cheering lab members clinking their glasses together.

"Oh right, that reminds me..." Dr. Wolfstein gestured towards Ibuki. "Ms Ibuki! Bring the recipient, if you please."

Ibuki handed her champaign glass to Tremblay and fetched the silver sphere. She came over to Dr. Wolfstein, held her arms forward with the sphere in her hands and bowed her head. The 3 men looked at her awkwardly for a moment.

Dr. Wolfstein hesitatingly took the sphere from her hands. "Thank you... I thought I told you that you don't need to be so formal here, Ms Ibuki."

She raised her head. "It's a sign of gratitude, doctor, for letting me be part of this historic moment. It was an honor."

Dr. Wolfstein nodded. "The honor is mine, Ms Ibuki. Your talent was greatly appreciated; you can expect glowing recommendations from me for future work."

Her face lit up with joy and she bowed again, mumbling something in her own tongue. She then stepped away and rejoined the others celebrating.

Dr. Wolfstein turned to the patient and held out the sphere to him. "Here, it's yours."

The patient took the sphere from the doctor. "Mine?"

Wolfstein nodded. "We have all the data we need from it already. Think of it as a memento of this turning point in history; we DID extract it from your brain so it's rightfully yours anyway."

The patient contemplated the sphere in his hand, seemingly hypnotized by the carved eye.

"Well," continued Wolfstein, "I'll be taking my leave. Celebrations and a few phone calls are in order." He gave the patient a quick wave, his eyes smiling behind his small glasses, and walked away.

Tremblay crossed him on his way, acknowledged him with a nod and kept going towards the 2 others. He stopped by the patient and looked at him intently, as he was still lost in the intricacy of the sphere. He nudged the patient on the shoulder to snap him out of it, and he switched his gaze to Tremblay. "Tu veux tu voir?" he said, gesturing at the sphere with his head.

The patient's eyes squinted questioningly.

Wertheimer jumped in the conversation. "He's asking you if you want to see what we extracted."

He looked back at Tremblay and nodded. "Sure."

Tremblay stepped towards the brain explorer's screen and turned it on. "On a encore l'image dessus." He turned the screen around for the patient to see. "Check ça."

When the patient saw the image he suddenly froze, eyes wide open.

Wertheimer noticed him acting strangely. "Hey, are you ok? What's wrong?"

A small electrical discharge came from the recipient in his hand. The laboratory suddenly blacked out.

A shriek rang out from Ibuki, and the sound of breaking glass followed.

"Tabarnac!"

"What's going on, Orlov?!" Wolfstein's voice came out.

"I don't know." the Russian voice answered. "Nothing triggered this, weather is fine outside too."

"What about the generators?" Johnson asked.

"They are obviously not working, genius." Orlov responded.

"This doesn't make any se-"

"AAAARGH!"

Wertheimer's remark was cut short by a flash of light and a scream. A few sparks remained visible after the flash.

"What happened?!" Wolfstein cried out. "Who got hit?"

"It's-GAAAH!" Wertheimer's voice was cut again for the last time by another flash of electricity.

"William!" Wolfstein screamed.

3 more flashes rang out simultaneously, along with 3 death throes. Lines of electricity flowed all over the darkness of the lab. To Wolfstein, the scene looked like a prison of lightning. There was no escape. He dropped to his knees in desperation. Thoughts of his children ventured through his mind, then his ex-wife; how he still loved her regardless. Tears ran down his face. He had just written history... at the cost of his life. Then again, in retrospect, he had already lost his life 10 years ago. A shadow loomed over him, but his eyes were already closed. A final flash of lightning... and Dr. Maximilian Wolfstein met his end.

That was the first day of the Spirit Years.

That day, the rules of the world changed...