Troublesome Findings

Phil paled. "And you're sure about this?"

"The scanning equipment doesn't lie," Henry Quantos replied.

"Damn," the telepath muttered.

"It would explain a lot," Quantos went on, "such as why you had an adverse reaction to the EMP while no one else did, how you're able without a metagene to control the astronomical energies tapped into by your telekinetic manifestations... and quite possibly why your memory functions - or malfunctions - the way it does."

"But still," Phil protested, "the implications are staggering, not just for me, but for everything. Whole chapters of history would be in error if that were the case."

"History," Quantos replied, "is written by the people who have either seen it for themselves or heard it from someone who did. Something of this nature would be so black, so secretive, that nobody could have recorded it and revealed it to the world at large. The implications are serious, I know."

"It would be enough to make me question how far behind the Mandelovians we really were back then," Phil said ominously.

"What does it all mean?" Leslie asked impatiently.

"Anomalies one and two," Quantos explained, "proved to be more than just foreign objects." He clicked a mouse button, and the screen in the examination-room theater projected several curious multi-band scans. "Upon closer investigation with the neutrino-matrix imaging system, these objects proved to be unexplainably sophisticated bioelectronic devices."

"Cybernetic devices," Phil elaborated.

"What I'm looking at," Quantos continued, "are two amazingly sophisticated microprocessors that somehow interface with the synaptic patterns of Phil's lateral neocortex. What their operating principle is I can't begin to guess at; they may employ optical or even quantum circuitry analogs."

"If you can't tell how they work," Leslie asked, "how do you know what they do?

"Getting there," Quantos went on. "Now, all the theories about the mechanics of telepathy that don't involve the metagene have to do with the redundant structures paradox."

"I don't know what that is," Phil said, mildly intrigued.

"RSP," Leslie said. "You know that the cerebrum has two halves, or hemispheres, that each have nearly identical structures."

"Each performs a specific function," Phil acknowledged, "like Broca's area controls speech, for example."

"Right," the bounty hunter answered. "Now, in almost every human being, only one of the counterpart structures in each hemisphere is used, generally corresponding to language dominance or degrees of ambidexterity."

Quantos nodded. "Most people are right-handed because the left hemisphere of their motor cortex assumes a primary role. That's just an example. Anyway, the non-dominant counterpart is almost always inactive, except in a small handful of people whose dominant structures are damaged somehow. When that happens, these non-dominant structures somehow adopt the synaptic patterns the healthy dominants possessed and take over the impaired function or functions. The brain, in essence, repairs itself by resorting to these 'spare parts'."

"The paradox is," Leslie said, "that these seemingly redundant structures, when altered or removed, have an extremely adverse effect on the brain as a whole, even though the non-dominants might not be used much at all. You can't live without these 'redundant' structures - that's the paradox. The really weird part is that in a small minority of people, both counterparts seem to function equally. This isn't uncommon in and of itself - when neither visual-language-recognition center assumes a dominant role and both try to process written language simultaneously, dyslexia results. But what's extremely rare is an instance in which multiple counterparts in both hemispheres are equally active and nominally functional. Every documented, authentic telepath or telekinetic - even those whose powers are metagenic - has at least two such pairs of functioning counterparts. How that results in the actual manipulation of matter, energy, or information, we don't yet know. But an exception to the redundant structures paradox is generally a red-flag indicator of a psionically active individual."

"Interesting," Phil said. "But what does that have to do with the cybernetics?"

"It appears," Quantos explained, "that one of these devices is intended to process concurrent signals from active counterparts and moderate the electrochemical reactions across the corpus callosum - the network of neural fibers that connects the two hemispheres. If that's the case, then Anomaly A may very well be a cybernetic device intended to control your psionic manifestations."

"And the second device?" Leslie asked.

"The second device," Quantos replied, "was connected to several midbrain structures but primarily to the hippocampus - the limbic-system structure that encodes and stores memory from sensory input. It seems to be capable of encoding vast amounts of information into memory upon receiving it from an outside source through some sort of transceiver."

"Like Johnny Mnemonic," Leslie observed abruptly.

"Hated it," Phil replied. "And you think this controls my memory... how?"

Quantos frowned. "It's rather disturbing," he replied. "This device appears to me like it was designed to control the content of your long-term memory - such fundamental things as your childhood and your identity. It can't erase existing memories - very few ways have been found to do that artificially - but it can impose information from an outside source upon existing memory, interfering with recall and perhaps making it possible for an outsider to program information, skills, memories... even an entirely new identity in place of the subject's own memories."

Leslie shuddered. Phil set his jaw. "So that's it?" he asked.

Quantos nodded. "Although neither device appears to be currently functional, it's apparent that they had a great deal to do with your actions and memories the entire time they were present. Which brings me to the truly troublesome findings."

"What are they?" Leslie asked. "And how does it conflict with known history?" she asked Phil.

"First of all," Quantos said, "these devices have been in Phil's brain essentially from the time they were made. They've been in there a while, enough that layers of cerebral tissues have grown around them - thanks to Phil's regenerative powers."

"How long?" Leslie asked, her face paling.

Quantos looked down. "1953."

"You're telling me," Leslie said, her eyes widening, "that someone built cybernetic implants to control psionics and memory, using computer sciences we're still exploring... in 1953???" She began trembling. "How is that possible? Who could've done it?"

Quantos didn't turn. He simply pressed a few buttons and zoomed in on the scan until several odd markings came into view on the larger device. As the image came into focus, Phil drew in a breath, and Leslie put a hand over her mouth.

A five-pointed star. Within it was inscribed a hammer and sickle.

Below it, a single Greek character.

Sigma.