Bold War 2020 Page 5

  ~

  When he wakes hours later he is more mentally alert but as physically incapacitated and anchored as before, and sad, and sorry for himself, and Sylvia, and Kent. He can move his head a little from side to side but nothing more.

  "Good afternoon Mr Buchanan, how are we now?" greets a smiling nurse.

  "We are a little better I think. Where's Dr Dench?" (Why does he feel surrounded more by unease than by pain?)

  "He's in his office, I'll get him," pressing a button.

  "Is it really 2050?"

  "It certainly is. That must be a big surprise for you."

  "So many questions…"

  "Andy!" Cameron bustles in.

  The beard is hard to get used to, he thinks. And there's something else different about him. Maybe it's just the passage of time. Time can play little tricks - and big tricks too, he seems to remember from somewhere.

  "So glad your instruments are all recording well. Can't wait to fill you in on the mass of information you must be dying - I mean waiting - to hear."

  Dismissing the nurse, he pulls a chair to the bed. "As a starting point, your condition is excellent in the circumstances. You have regained consciousness and we aim to improve rapidly from here. Before I start, are there any questions?"

  "Yes, of course Cam. I'm still trying to come to grips… Isn't thirty years a long time for a coma?"

  "Sure is. World record as I said."

  "But my body. I thought it would be thin and… haggard."

  "Right again. It should be. But the fact that you are looking so good is the result of you allowing me to, er, experiment on you when you were beyond normal help after the accident. You remember signing the papers?"

  He tries to equate the signing of papers with his present condition and it gradually gels This would have to be the major piece of good fortune in his life. "Yes, yes," he says impatiently, "How did you manage to do it? To keep me looking fit and healthy, even though I don't feel it?"

  "I've written more than fifty papers on this and you and I are both famous. For you, my partner, I'll summarise. How I managed your coma. The one-pager I used to ask you for. A 'crash' course, if you'll excuse the pun.

  V

  "Normally muscles and organs waste away during a coma through lack of use. I built on some early pioneering work, that had been ignored by the medical fraternity, to develop a Cam system - that is 'Computerised Antagonistic Muscular' fibrillation. Yes, although it is my baby, the acronym is coincidental," he explains without a tinge of self-consciousness.

  "Most muscles in the body have antagonistic or counteracting muscles. Thus a muscle can be exercised without actually moving by activating it at the same time as its counteracting muscle. A variation on isometric exercises. For thousands of years adherents of a branch of Yoga practised this, without computers and electrical stimulation of course, and were able to build perfect physiques with better results than pumping iron.

  "I got together some of my colleagues in physiology, electronics and computer software, we managed to get a research contract, and were testing the program at the time of your accident. It sequentially activates all the body muscles by computerised electrical stimulus in a totally balanced manner, at optimum levels for the appropriate length of time. Am I going too fast for you?"

  "No. I want to, I must, understand."

  "We call our ultimate specialised machine 'Castor," not because it moves about on them, but after the Greek god - one of the patron deities of seamen and voyagers. You certainly have been on a long voyage, Buddy. The name stands for Computerised Antagonistic Stimulus Trauma Override Regime, but I expect that's of little importance to you at the moment. We've had a lot of juicy orders for the machine over the years. Castor has been the 'good oil' for us."

  "You always were a bit of a mythology man," Andrew recalls. "It all sounds far-fetched, but if it works… " His head aches.

  =

  "The result you see with your own eyes," Cameron says, producing a large mirror and holding it at various angles so Andrew can look at his torso. It is even better than he remembers it. Younger, firmer, better muscles.

  "The perfect specimen of a forty year old man," says Cameron proudly. "Not like my seventy year old wreck. I'm jealous."

  "Serves you right, you old reprobate… but I can't move any of these beautiful muscles except my head."

  With only momentary hesitation Cameron replies. "Yes, I was coming to that. Although the muscle tone is there, links to the brain are not yet properly activated. Now your consciousness has returned I have switched to a revised program. Your autonomous system - heart, breathing, etc - has remained unaffected by your brain injury and indirectly helped by Castor. We expect you'll get progressive control over your muscles, starting from your neck and working down the body, over the next week… or so. We'll be adjusting the computer program in parallel to your rate of progress and gradually getting rid of those tubes at the same time."

  "Thank God for that. What about the rest of me?"

  "You mean like your organs, nervous system and other brain functions? They were also great challenges but likewise we mastered them. Take, for instance, your heart. For a while that became really complicated. There was the time we…"

  "Tell you what, Cam, buddy," Andrew interrupts, "I've changed my mind. How about we leave the long stories till later. Back to the present. Why, for instance, has it taken thirty years to revive me?"

  "Now just a minute, Andy," Cameron protests. "I've moved heaven and earth to keep you alive and in good condition. But despite major technical advances there are still plenty of mysteries about the human body and brain. I contributed a lot to your recovery but in the end I believe you regained consciousness when you were ready."

  "Sorry Cam," says Andrew, surprised at his sensitivity. "Can we go to Sylvia, Kent and the world of 2050 and how it's obviously changed?"

  "Indeed it has," says Cameron, calming down. "You certainly will be interested in the changes. Do you remember that night we all talked about the world situation and made our predictions?"

  "Like it was yesterday."

  "That's good. So far it seems your memory may not have been impaired. I've been thinking a lot, Andy, about the situation in which we find ourselves. You regaining consciousness after thirty years, coming into a new world, as it were, with the memory and perceptions of a previous generation." He pauses.

  "Go on!" Andrew waits impatiently.

  "Well, it seems like we have a unique opportunity here and I'd like to put a proposition to you."

  Andrew's mind jumps as he feels the hairs on the back of his neck tingle. Yes, feeling is moving down from the head, he thinks. Or, should I be worrying about something? He can't put his finger (or any other part of his body) on it. A vague but faintly compelling feeling - about Cameron. He lets it pass as the doctor continues.

  "In the year 2020 we saw the social problems fairly clearly but hadn't a clue about what to do with them. There have been dramatic changes since then, most of them in here," he said, tapping his forehead.

  "So?" queries Andrew.

  "So, bearing in mind your keen interest in sociological progress, which I hope you still retain…"

  "Absolutely."

  "…in conjunction with my scientific bent, I thought we might conduct a little - ah - experiment."

  Andrew is indeed interested, but not thinking very well on his feet (or, in this case, back). He is pleased to feel his facial muscles actually, with effort, contort into a slight, albeit twitchy, smile.

  Encouraged, Cameron proceeds. "While we work on and wait for your body to be totally re-activated it's necessary to keep you here in the clinic with appropriate medical attention and measurement of your physiological progress. So… we could use that time to help people of this generation in a positive way as well as bring you up to date on what has happened and why and how."

  "You're not making any sense," says Andrew. "Have present-day people advanced to a different thought process?"
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  "What I'm getting to is that with your co-operation we have a chance to make a big advance. Let me explain, with a little assistance." He presses a button and a tall young woman enters the room. She is blonde, slim and lithe and her gleaming white teeth flash a smile at Andrew.

  "Allow me to introduce Christiana Deygar. Christiana, say hello to Andrew Buchanan."

  Andrew feels himself giving a tiny nod and again that little twitch of a smile, all he can offer in the circumstances. He thinks of Sylvia again and is temporarily immersed in grief. He is also annoyed he can't interact more personally with these 'new' people.

  Sensing his discomfort Cameron presses on. "Christiana has been intimately involved in the change process and is extremely capable in a wide range of areas. I intend to entrust her with management of the project we are about to put to you. She has taken a particular interest in your case. She understands your present state of immobility, and part of her - ah - duties will be to assist you in that direction as much as possible. You hopefully will be seeing a lot more of her (was that a quick wink?) in the near future.

  Andrew gives a small nod and assumes he might be starting to blush.

  "One of the techniques we have developed since 2020 we call 'Frip Analysis'. Sorry Andy," he says as the patient frowns, "You're going to have to get used to a few new words. Frip Analysis is 'Future Retrospective In Perspective.' It helps overcome barriers to change."

  "Sounds like something I used to have on my roses."

  "We used to be, and I guess we still are experts in hindsight, with '20/20' vision. Sunday morning quarterbacks. Trouble is, while we think we may be doing the right thing now, today is tomorrow's yesterday and tomorrow's people will be experts in judging mistakes we are currently making. Just as we now judge yesterday's mistakes made in good faith at the time, and in turn yesterday's people were judging their predecessors. Will today's performance and deeds stand up to retrospective scrutiny the way we examine the events of a generation ago?"

  V

  "There's nothing new in what he's saying," Christiana takes over. "Nearly two hundred years ago John Stuart Mill said every age has held opinions that subsequent generations found not only false but absurd. He warned his contemporaries that many ideas then prevalent would be rejected by future ages. At the start of this century something was done to break the vacuous and seemingly entrenched repetition of retrospective ridicule. In your terms it was a mix of strategic thinking, preferred futures and similar techniques, but developed so that people could easily and effectively plan for the future without the negative thinking, claustrophobic preconceptions and stultifying resistance to change that had always been a barrier to progress."

  Andrew can't remember anyone who spoke as well as she does while looking so good.

  "Are you paying attention Mr Buchanan?" she asks, with what looks like a twinkle in her eye.

  "Yes. Of course. Please continue." He has vague memories of a one-time 'strategic planning' seminar which didn't mean much at the time - maybe he should have taken more notice.

  "Although we have advanced a long way in this process and are better at doing the right thing as custodians for the future, there are those among us who feel we are beginning to rest on our laurels, becoming blasé about our progress. Some feel we've made all the major gains there are to be made and there's little else to achieve. Rather like, you may remember, the Commissioner of the US Office of Patents in 1899 recommending his office be abolished because 'everything that can be invented has been invented'. Or the Chairman of IBM in the 1940's predicting a world market for maybe five computers because he couldn't foresee any commercial possibilities for them."

  Andrew remembered these and other examples being trotted out before. They were then - what was his expression? - quaintly relevant. He now respects their significance.

  =

  "The proposal we would like you to consider is this," Christiana continues. "We show you an accelerated account of the changes that have occurred over the last thirty years, sequentially as they occur rather than as a fait accompli. It's an educational film we have adapted for this special purpose. It highlights the relevant and significant events over the past generation.

  "As we progress, you make observations from time to time based on your current knowledge, and predictions in the light of unfolding events, before knowing the final outcomes. This will illustrate most forcefully to students and others how the thought process about change works, in a manner not previously possible. It will be helpful and instructive to us and give us valuable insights. For you, rather than being a virtual reality game it will be actual reality - the future speeded up and presented progressively on a plate, as it were, with you going along for the ride,"

  "As long as I'm not being taken for a ride. I could be made to look foolish on a regular basis," Andrew protests. "It's one thing to be proven wrong when you're dead and buried, quite another when you're alive and buried under a mountain of embarrassment and guilt. I don't know if my ego could stand it."

  "Andy, we have advanced beyond the right / wrong judgemental stage and the facile allocation of blame," Cameron intercedes. "We approach from the positive side of things. I suggest there will be a lot of kudos for you. At the possible expense of a minor dent in your ego we'll be able to demonstrate vividly the dynamics of thinking, planning and action processes and at the same time add a further dimension to their utility and effectiveness."

  "Why should I do it?" Andrew asks, managing to pout a little.

  "Several reasons," replies Cameron quickly. "Firstly, on last count, the government has injected over ten million dollars into my, or rather our, research project, from which your life has been saved. I know you didn't ask for that but you have benefited - considerably, I suggest.

  "Secondly, your case has been prominent in the medical community for years. With my press release yesterday and this morning's papers you are on your way to becoming a confirmed celebrity."

  He holds up a sheaf of cuttings for Andrew to see the headlines.

  'MIRACLE RETURN FROM DEAD'

  'OUT OF THE DREAMTIME'

  'RIP VAN WINKLE RISES'

  'TODAY'S HERO FROM YESTERDAY'

  "The media is besieging me. I plan to take it slowly - I don't want to expose you until you are well enough. But think of the possibilities. Your position is unique, and if you can add contributions to society along the lines we are suggesting - well, the sky's the limit. You can make a fortune from the media. Castor has rejuvenated your metabolism, so your body probably has another forty years of life. The intellectual stimulus of our plan will massage your mental process so that in the near future you could have an 80 year head on a 40 year body. There's every reason to expect you will in due course become the world's first 120 year old multi-millionaire."

  "Don't turn him off it," interjects Christiana, smiling her big smile. "Well, what do you think, Mr Buchanan?" She looks at him intently. It makes him feel good and uncomfortable at the same time. With her eyes she is saying 'Please' without uttering a word. Reminds him of Sylvia.

  If I have another forty years in me, why not? , he thinks. Start my new life off with a bang. A unique set of circumstances. Could be a lot of intellectual and other mileage in it. What about the old faculty? Probably retired or dead by now. No baggage from the past, a clear leap into the future and no competition. Sort of jousting with time.

  "I'm wavering. Please call me Andrew."

  "Certainly Andrew. A final reason for you to participate is that it will give you an added focus and help speed your recovery. That would make us all very happy, wouldn't it Dr Dench?"

  He knows she is squeezing his hand but can't feel it. He is mesmerised by the clear, deep, deep blue eyes that penetrate right inside him. Again that silent, emotional appeal.

  "All right," he hears himself say, "When do we start?"

  "After you've had another sleep Andrew," as she smoothes the hair from his forehead. "This is your first day of activity in thirty year
s, so naturally you're very tired."

  The thrill of her light touch diverts his attention from Cameron and the thin smile of satisfaction that creases his lips.

  CHAPTER 6 Routine

  When he wakes next morning Andrew finds himself drawn into clinic routines and health care management. His program provides for gradual weaning off drip feeds, and he is prescribed for regular and increasing bouts of physiotherapy. Psychologists and other specialists test his condition and make reports.

  "Wash-time," chime two cheery nurses who set about jovially washing and vigorously drying his muscled body. What surprises the three of them, considering his general state of physical incapacity, is the erectness of his penis. The nurses look at each other with the tiniest of smiles; Andrew looks at the ceiling with embarrassment and resolve to ask Cameron how that member, subsequently referred to by those out of his hearing as 'Randy Andy', has jumped the line ahead of his arms and torso. He is probably blushing and wonders where.

  An hour later Cameron appears. "How's Rip van Winkle this morning? Sleep well?"

  "Hi. Fitfully. I dreamed I was being held down by dark forces against my will. Felt almost as helpless in my dream as in real life."

  "Hmm… Not surprising," grunts Cameron, looking at the instruments rather than Andrew. "By the way I meant to mention. One of the unusual features of your sustained coma is that, in a way we still don't fully understand, the chemicals in the bee's sting, injected at precisely the right spot in your central nervous system to give maximum effect, appear to have been responsible, in conjunction with physical aspects of the crash, for putting your body into a remarkable state of suspension for an inordinate duration with minimal damage. Chance in a billion - allowed me to do my part in keeping you 'fit'."

  "Strange," mutters Andrew. "Like anaesthetising time."

  "In a way, yes," Cameron answers, frowning. "For a time I viewed it as a chronotypical, but because of the astonishing series of events arising directly from that one event, with its precise timing and location, I subsequently question the 'arbitrary' aspect. It is well beyond chaos theory."