"This thing will save you, son."
…
"Please, spare us."
…
Bang.
…
Bang.
…
"Mom!"
Pierre jolted awake from the nightmare, his breath shallow, his chest heaving. Sweat soaked his skin, and his heart pounded as if it might burst from his ribs. His hands trembled. For a moment, the room blurred—was he still there? That night?
His eyes darted to the corner of the darkened bedroom, his body frozen as the echo of gunshots lingered in his mind. It's not real. It's not now. It's over, he told himself, repeating the words like a mantra.
But it never felt over.
The cries of his mother, the pleading in his father's voice, the final sound of violence that ended their lives—they haunted him. Pierre couldn't unhear them, couldn't stop the scene from replaying in a relentless loop. He was only five when it happened, but time hadn't dulled the memory.
Then, a soft voice pulled him back.
"Pete?"
He turned to his side. Elena was there, half-asleep, her blue eyes wide with gentle concern. Moonlight from the window bathed her features, casting a silver glow on her hair and cheek.
"That dream again?" she asked softly.
Pierre nodded, his voice caught in his throat. He didn't want her to see him like this, but she already had.
Elena leaned up slightly and brushed her hand against his face, wiping the wetness from his cheeks. Her palm was warm and steady.
"I'm here," she whispered.
Pierre leaned into her touch, closing his eyes. "Thank you, Elena," he murmured, holding her hand against his cheek as if it anchored him to reality. "For being here."
She didn't say much, just moved closer. "Altijd," she whispered, her voice fading as sleep began to reclaim her.
Pierre gazed at her as she nestled against him. Her bare skin brushed his, soft and warm, her arm draped loosely over his torso. He held her gently, easing back down beside her. Her heartbeat, her steady breath, her familiar scent—they reminded him he was no longer alone.
He stayed quiet for a while, simply breathing with her. She didn't try to fix him, didn't offer empty words or press for explanations. She was simply there.
That was everything.
Elena shifted in her sleep, her leg slipping over his, clinging to him unconsciously. Even in her dreams, she held him. Pierre wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hair.
Closing his eyes again, he found no gunshots this time—only the quiet comfort of her presence.
It had been three days since Pierre and Elena succeeded in brain preservation, which started from the fruitful discussion's night. The test on a slice of the brain yesterday was pleasing. But they ended up running out of brain samples. So Elena needed to make an inquiry and fill in many ethical questions again. Then they had to wait for two more days to get two samples.
Today, two brain samples arrived at the harbour. Elena and Pierre retrieved them just this morning. In her lab, Elena and her team were preparing the protocol for the whole human brain.
Pierre checked on his recent simulation software. Since that day, he had updated the algorithm for finding optimal choices for choosing cluster neurons and other relevant regions to maximize the cryoprotectant perfusion. His screen displayed a 3D brain image; the chosen regions were highlighted green. Upon simulation, the green regions quickly spread and linked to each other. This new implementation includes percolation theory, where optimal choices of cluster neurons can efficiently prevent the whole brain's connectivity breakdown.
He got this idea during a later night, while he was finding Elena's optimal sensitive spots. Her response during that experiment was remarkable – he thought. It was the same time that Elena saw his mind blanking while the simulation ran, she made a light cough to call back Pierre's mind. Her cheeks flustered as if she also recalled the same thing.
Back to the research, Elena further suggested adding some protective proteins that will manifest in strengthening the neuron's structure during dehydration. These proteins were extracted from tardigrade or water bear.
Although their protocol was very much refined, the test on a brain slice yesterday gave them around 12% inactive neurons, close to that predicted by the simulation but still within an acceptable range.
"The sample is ready, we are starting," Elena called to her team, while she closely observed through the chamber's window. Her colleague sat and controlled the console nearby.
The software marked optimal neuron clusters and crucial regions. Protective protein and trehalose were precisely injected into those spots; then the dehydration began. After reaching the desired hydration level, Elena's cryoprotectant was injected into those spots. This was to minimize the toxicity from the cryoprotectant. The initial stage was completed.
"Start cooling down," Elena told her colleague firmly. The thermometer on the chamber displayed a temperature that dropped to 77 Kelvin. "Water is vitrified efficiently and spreading over," her team reported. The screen showed transient ice crystals, highlighted in blue, but they were tiny and grew much more slowly.
"4 Kelvin reached, 99.9999% vitrification, integrity is at 100%." Elena and her team smiled; she saw Pierre was also pleased with the result.
"Now start rewarming." Upon her demand, the number on the thermometer increased slowly, then gradually at an increasing rate. The glass turned to liquid, then the liquid started to form ice crystals. Although these ice crystals were only temporary, their presence was sufficient to degrade the protein and membrane integrity.
"300 Kelvin reached, integrity is stable at 100%. Neural activity recovered at 95%." Pierre and Elena's team were pleased with the result. A 5% damage after rewarming; the mummy could be revived.
But Elena was still not pleased with the results. Pierre saw Elena's expression. "What's wrong?" "It's just…" Elena paused. "You know, the numbers seem promising, but the 5% inactive neurons could mean we've lost some of our memories and possibly brain functions," Elena expressed her worries. "Although NRE's technology is able to regrow the neurons, those neurons will be like a baby's, no memories, no functions." Her words silenced the room.
"Sorry, I don't mean to be a party pooper." "No worries, Elena, we all will find a way," Pierre calmed her. "This would be much easier if our brain could upload save data."
As Pierre's words pierced through her brain, a spark ignited in her mind.
"That's it, Pierre!" Pierre did not follow. "What's that?" "Upload and download."
Elena's two words gave a boost to Pierre; he realized her meaning and intention. The team also caught up with Elena.
"Your memory retrieval algorithm, would it be possible to reverse the process?" Elena asked him, her eyes brightening. "Retrieving the memory means we translate the electrical brain wave through a wire and store it," Pierre continued. "This method is easier as it requires fewer steps." "To upload or write data, we need to unfold how neurons encode information," Pierre ended. Elena listened closely. "Unless we are focusing locally on a small part and stimulating only those parts," Elena flushed slightly when she mentioned the word local stimulation, which reminded her about several nights ago. Pierre understood her point. "I got it, Elena. You're brilliant."
"I will start writing down a code for stimulating those specific parts." "I will prepare the brain sample." "Use this algorithm to first download all brain wave signals." Pierre sent Elena his retrieval algorithm. Elena then told her team what to do. She was full of confidence. Her voice was firm, each of her words straightforward. "How long do you need, Pierre?" she then asked Pierre. "Since we can't risk losing our last sample, give me four hours, until 2:00 PM," Pierre answered while typing on his editor.
(Feta's Manor at night)
Freja had just finished showering, her towel wrapped around her chest but unable to hide her fullness. Despite being 46, she still took care of her body very well, a balance of aging and youth. She walked out of the shower room and headed to her wardrobe in her bedroom. Freja was back from NRE, but her mind was still on work: hiring a new engineer, the cadet's case, etc.
On a desk in her bedroom, on the laptop screen, a report remained open; the author of the report was "Elena Ornstein."
Later, a notification popped up, indicating a new mail had arrived.
Freja, in light casual wear, no bra, only panties, had not yet finished drying her long blonde hair. She walked to the laptop, gesturing to bring the screen and mail display into the air. The screen from the laptop then expanded and displayed in the air in front of her. It was an automated email that she'd set up for when a new report had been uploaded. It was 5:00 PM now. Elena must have finished her lab today and reported the progress.
As chief engineer, Freja had the right to access most lab reports stored on the NRE server. This included Elena's lab. Since she had heard Pierre was collaborating with Elena, Freja started to follow Elena's lab reports. Her motivation grew when her son, Karl Feta, hinted that Pierre might be involved in the death of the new cadet.
She used to be impressed by Pierre's intellect and youthfulness. But Pierre had taken the director position away from her. She was so frustrated that she'd lost this position to a man around her son's age
She could not do anything since it was Edwin's wish. She still did not understand what was behind his decision.
With curiosity, she opened the new report from Elena. Upon skipping through past records and failures, she was stunned by the results.
"That's impossible."
In front of her, the panel displayed a summary table for mortality of the brain cells and charts for comparison of several protocols. At the end of the report, the summary said,
"In combination with our cryopreservation protocol and neural restimulation, we were able to preserve and rewarm the human brain with 100% integrity, 5% inactive neurons (before neural restimulation), and a fully functioning brain (after neural restimulation)."
"They did it."
Even Freja was trembling at this breakthrough. That Pierre and her little Elena had made human preservation possible. Pierre's face during their collaboration flashed back into her mind, his intellect and dominance at that time were so fascinating. Familiar hormones surged into her brain, sufficient to overcome her hatred toward him temporarily, re-stimulating her sensitivity toward him. His touches were still emblazoned in Freja's mind as she started to ignite herself.
A few minutes later, a long and loud moan stopped; she had released her excitement. She stood up again; the wooden floor was wet from her past action, dripping was visible around her leg. She had calmed herself down, Pierre's face blown away from her mind.
After settling her mind again, she looked through Elena's report again. This time she read it over and studied it. A picture of the cadet's dead body, brain returned.
"This shall work."
She then called her son, as she could not wait for their dinner time.
"Karl, I found a solution."
"Let's meet at the Granitz lab."