Becoming Human, page 20
“Thanks, Dad.” The laughter was genuine but brief. Everyone wanted to know what Henry had to say about his trip.
It turned out that not one, but two universities were interested in being the new home for the “Oscar” project. One was Harvard, the other the University of Kansas. Owing to a death of one of the faculty members in the former, and a retirement in the other, there was ample space for me and the crew to do our work. The fact that Henry would be bringing in a sizable grant along with its associated overhead support didn’t hurt, of course. He was as excited about the possibilities as was the rest of the crew. Everyone was completely fed up with the politics and narrow vision of the university where we were currently housed. Barring changes of mind or other unforeseen difficulty, the only thing left to decide was which new environment we would prefer to find ourselves in.
Harvard had a leg up, of course, with its world-renowned faculty and its many successful research programs, not to mention potentially higher salaries and benefits, but Kansas actually offered more space, as well as promotions, minimal teaching loads, and early tenure for everyone concerned. Henry had told them both that he would have a decision within a few weeks. He first had to inform the NIMH and get their approval for the transfer, and, of course, to see how the rest of the crew felt about the move. All except Susumu were ready for anything. The latter told him that he would either remain behind, or move in a different direction and seek his own space and research funds somewhere else.
There was one other possibility: that Dr. Sherman and the university’s board of directors, after hearing that we were wanted elsewhere, might change their minds and find better space for us. Even if they did, however, it was generally felt that it would almost certainly be too little and too late. If we weren’t wanted here today, the crew didn’t want to be here tomorrow.
When there was little more to be discussed on the matter, everyone went back to Omar’s bench to test the synthetic skin for conductivity, and Henry finally asked me what I thought about the move. Of course, we had already briefly discussed this possibility, but that was hypothetical and now it had become a reality. It’s always fun to contemplate a change of scene, but actually carrying out a plan is a far different thing. The negatives become plainer, the comfort of the status quo more apparent. In my case, more than that was at stake. There was no guarantee I would survive the immensely difficult process of taking me apart and putting me back together again exactly as I am. I had thought many times about what death might mean for me, and now I had to face it not as something to worry about later, but as an imminent concern. My fears had become a reality, and I told Henry this.
He was quite understanding about it, but far less apprehensive than was I. Of course he didn’t have to be taken apart and put back together like Humpty Dumpty. He explained that there were always risks associated with any new and significant scientific endeavor, pointing out that several people had been lost in the development of the various space programs. “That’s exactly what I’m worried about,” I told him.
But he played a dirty trick. “What do you suggest we do?” he asked me.
I had to think for a moment. There weren’t many choices. I could be taken apart and moved to a strange location, or I could stay here and perhaps be scrapped altogether. If one has to face necessary surgery or death, it’s better to get it over with than try to put it off or avoid it entirely. I had a tremendous urge to sigh, but no lungs to do it with. “Which place has the most windows?”
He laughed at this, thinking it was a joke. When I didn’t laugh as well, he realized I was serious. “I never saw the lab they were offering at Harvard, but the one in Kansas has windows everywhere.”
“What is the view like?”
“The lab is on the sixth floor, and you can see for miles around. Grass and trees, and sidewalks full of students. Nice buildings all around it, but lots of sky. I have to admit I liked the view.”
“What about Harvard? What floor would the lab be on?”
“I don’t know, Oscar. They are planning on some shifting and some remodeling. But I’ll find out.”
“Thank you.”
“Eureka!” came David’s voice from the left side of the lab. “The galvanometer
shows us a reading of six. Could be better, but it’s a good start.”
“Did you hear that, Oscar? You’ll soon be able to feel things. Tomorrow we’ll hook you up to a little patch of “skin” and see what happens. If that works, we’ll start working on forming the material into a hand and an arm. But that will have to wait until the future is a little more settled… .”
I decided not to ask for a penis right away; that could wait for the next grant. “Then all I need is taste and I’ll be fully human!”
“You’re fully human right now, as far as I’m concerned, Oscar.”
Even facing a future fraught with uncertainty, I felt like a million bucks.
41
It wasn’t a very good night. If I were fully developed I would have tossed and turned. But my mind certainly did. All I could think about was being taken apart little by little, like a cadaver in a morgue. Perhaps the fear was like that of someone who is afraid to fly contemplating a long flight scheduled for the next day. It is impossible not to think about plunging into the ground along with a hundred other screaming passengers. This despite the fact that there are 10,000 flights in the air at any one moment, and months or even years can go by without a fatality. It’s a phobia, an extreme form of anxiety, and I’ve got it. I don’t know why, and I’m sure none of the crew does, either.
I tried to think of a way to convince Henry not to move me. We’re doing fine where we are. Why do we need more space? Everyone has a desk, and the shop is just down the corridor, out of the way. There is more than enough room for me, which is really all that’s needed. If we need more space, why couldn’t the crew put their desks out in the corridor? Or throw out some of the old equipment sitting here and there? We even have a window now. What else do we need? Some might look at the lab, as I do now, and see clutter. But to me it looks warm and comfortable. To me it is home.
I will remind Henry to consider all the time wasted in preparing for a move, for taking me apart and carefully packing all my parts in damage-proof containers. Then there’s the transfer itself, presumably by moving van, which would probably take at least another week. Then reassembling me somewhere else, unpacking all the equipment we would be allowed to take, testing and trying everything over again. I would estimate that the whole process would take several weeks, maybe months. And this in addition to adjusting to the new teaching and committee and patient responsibilities and administrative details that overwhelm anyone who moves to a new lab. It’s stupid, when you think about it, and it would probably take years to make up all the lost ground. Perhaps the NIMH wouldn’t want to wait forever for new results. It could even mean that the renewal application would fail. If that happened, what was the point?
In addition, there are the loss of friends and relatives, some of which the crew will probably never see again. And selling houses or leaving apartments, including getting out of leases and moving thousands of pieces of furniture and dishes and knickknacks and books, and on and on. Finding new doctors and lawyers. It’s just not worth it! I wonder whether Henry and David and D’Arcy have even thought about all this. And what about Omar? Will he be asked to come along? Or will he have to try to find another lab in order to stay with his family? His wife works, too, and would she be able to find a job in the new place? And the kids will all have to leave behind everyone and everything they know, their school, all their friends, the only home they have ever lived in. What a disaster this move would be for everyone concerned! Probably no one really wants to go. Have they really considered all of this?
I would be happy to slow down my progress, to delay obtaining a penis, to sacrifice myself so that none of this would have to happen. It would be horrible for the entire crew, not to mention the medical school and the university itself, which would be losing a lot of grant money and prestige. How many other labs have students coming in periodically to see what’s going on there? How many have the Sixty Minutes people coming to do an interview? The whole idea is ridiculous! But what can I do? I can’t speak to the NIMH myself, or even the university president, Dr. Sherman. Susumu has already forbidden that. Or Dr. Wilkes, who is at the crux of it all. Oh, how I wish I had arms and legs. I will soon, but they will come too late.
Sometime during the night I had a dream, the one I’ve been having recently. I am lying helplessly on the floor of the lab, and the crew, one by one, pulls off my arms and legs, one at a time, and throws them into an old crate that used to contain rotten eggs—I can still see the yellow stains in it. My face is next, and Leonardo DiCaprio is cut up with a huge knife and tossed in with all the rest. My eyes and ears and even my nostril are ripped out and they join the rest of me in the crate. And finally they hack away at my brain, tossing chunks here and there (they look like pieces of a human brain), and scoop them up with a shovel. And the worst part of all is that they’re laughing. All of them, even Robyn and Ed, who has come by for the show. Laughing and laughing, the funniest thing anyone has ever seen. At last the Prosecco comes out. That’s when I wake up. I don’t even know what happens after that, except that they probably guzzle the wine, chortling all the while.
Ed, in fact, shows up just a few minutes later, shining his ever-present flashlight around. He stares at my new face and body, but doesn’t laugh, or even say a word. “How’s it going, Oscar?” Same old refrain, though I like it.
“Not so good, Ed. Henry is thinking about moving me to another lab.”
“Really? Which one? Will you still be in the basement?”
“No, we’ll be going to Harvard. Or Kansas. I don’t know yet.”
He seemed genuinely saddened by this news. “I’m sorry you’re leaving, Oscar. How much longer will you be here?”
“Don’t know. They’ll probably want to move me as soon as possible.”
“Let me know when you find out. I’ll come in and we’ll have a good chat before you go.”
“That would be nice.”
He propped the recording device in front of me. “Well, I’ve got to run. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Okay.”
“Cheer up, my friend. Nothing is ever as bad as it sounds.”
“So they say.”
How could I get the crew to stay here if I couldn’t even get my best friend, except for Robyn, to stay more than a minute or two? Regardless, I had to think of something soon.
42
The next morning I asked Omar to put in a call to the university president, Dr. Sherman. He was reluctant to do so. I told him that one reason he hadn’t gotten a salary increase and a promotion was that he never showed any initiative. I suggested that Henry would be impressed by his deciding for himself to make the call for me. And what harm could possibly come of it? His secretary would undoubtedly say he was busy and that would be the end of it. He thought about that for a minute. Finally, he found a phone book and looked up the number. I asked him to put me on the speaker phone.
First he got the switchboard operator at the administration building, who transferred him to Dr. Sherman’s secretary, a girl who sounded as if she were about sixteen, and then to his administrative assistant.
“This is Mrs. Edwards. May I help you?”
“Hello. This is Oscar.”
“Who?”
“Oscar. I’m the brain from lab B-12 in the Department of Neurology.”
“Oh, yes. Dr. Sherman has mentioned you on several occasions. How can I help you?”
“I would like to speak to Dr. Sherman, if he is available.”
“I’m sorry, Oscar, he’s in a meeting. But I can ask him to call you back later.”
“I’m not sure there’s going to be a ‘later.’”
“Oh, I see. Can you hold for a moment, Oscar? I’ll see if I can track him down.”
Omar shrugged and went back to his bench. I waited. All last night I had imagined the view from the sixth floor laboratory at the University of Kansas, but I was still terrified of being taken apart and reassembled there. I asked myself again and again what could possibly go wrong. The courageous answer would be: nothing. The correct answer, however, was: who knows? It was like Columbus sailing to the New World. While I waited, David came in, then D’Arcy, and, finally, Robyn.
I was glad they were here. “Oscar! How are you?”
“Good morning, Dr. Sherman. Thank you for taking my call.”
“No problem, my friend. How is the research going?”
“Pretty well, thank you. I’m about to get ‘touch’ today. Now I’ll know what it’s like to feel things.”
“That’s terrific, Oscar. Uh, is that why you called?”
“No. I called because Dr. Justasson is about to decide to move us to Harvard or Kansas. In fact, he has asked me which I would prefer. I’m thinking about Kansas, but I wondered if you had any opinion on all this?”
There was a pause. I could almost see his bushy eyebrows come down in a frown. “Has Henry gotten a firm offer from either of these places?”
“Not yet. He wants to decide which one to focus on and then pursue it.”
“I see. Well, Oscar, I hadn’t heard anything about these invitations. In fact, I was about to call Henry this morning to ask him exactly what we can do to get you all to stay here.”
“I can tell you that. We need a much bigger laboratory.”
“Yes, I know about that. What I meant was, would he be willing to accept something less.”
“Like what?”
“I was thinking about refurbishing the space you’re in now. Or knocking out a wall. Maybe rerouting the corridor. Or whether he would be able to put off a decision for a year or so. By then we may have several other options. Do you know what he would think of these things? Or should I speak to Henry myself?”
Some of these suggestions seemed rather attractive to me, but I knew that Henry might disagree. “I don’t think he wants to wait that long, sir. And the refurbishing wouldn’t help. Maybe knocking out the wall and extending the lab into the lawn or the parking lot might work. But that would also take a year or two, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, it might.”
“Shall I speak to him and get back to you?”
“Why don’t you just ask him to call me when he comes in?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll do that.”
“Thank you, Oscar. ‘Bye for now, and have a nice day!”
“Good-bye. And thank you.”
Without saying a word, David came over and hung up the phone. He gave me a look I didn’t like. If I read it correctly, it was the one that said, “What the hell are you doing, Oscar?”
I ignored it. “David, can you get me Henry?”
“I’m not a secretary, Oscar. Get him yourself.”
“You know I can’t do that. D’Arcy? Could you call Henry for me?” He pretended not to hear me. Robyn ignored me as well.
What was the matter with these people? On my own I had probably saved us from moving the laboratory and disrupting years of work. Regardless of what happened, we would, at the least, have much more space to continue my development.
David left. I assumed he was going to the shop to get something for the skin test, which was supposed to be done this afternoon. D’Arcy and Robyn kept working at their desks, Omar at his bench. No one said anything, and no latte or Prosecco came out. An hour after David left, he came back in with Henry. Neither looked happy, but it was Henry who spoke first. “Hello, Oscar.”
“Good morning, Henry. I’ve been negotiating—”
“So I’ve heard. Is there something I don’t know? Has the NIMH promoted you to Principal Investigator? If so, I haven’t received the notice. When did that happen?”
“No, Henry. You are still P.I. I just thought that—”
“You thought wrong, Oscar. The brain, or the computer, or the lab animal—whatever the hell you are—doesn’t call the president of the university
and negotiate anything. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
“Yes, of course. You are the boss. I just wanted to help. I thought—”
“It doesn’t matter what you thought. In the future I hope you will discuss any plans you have for going behind my back before you go ahead with them. Is that clear, Oscar?”
“I’m sorry, Henry. I was only trying to help. Do you want to know how my conversation with Dr. Sherman came out?”
“David told me what you discussed. I’m not interested in knocking down walls, or ‘refurbishing’ the place, or anything else. I’m going to call Harvard and Kansas myself and try to finalize the deal. Whichever is ready to take us immediately will be first on the list. Do you have any problem with that? Because if you do, I need to hear it now.”
“I’m not going.”
Deep frowns appeared, which were replaced with rumbles of laughter, followed by guffaws. “Okay, Oscar, you’ve made your point,” Henry said. “I’ll speak to Sherman. But if nothing can be worked out, I’m calling the other places. Fair enough?”
I found myself in a corner, and everything came rushing out. “Yes, it’s fair, but I really don’t want to go anywhere. Fact is, I like it here.”
“Why not, Oscar? Researchers move around all the time. It will take a while to adjust to our new surroundings, but—”
“I’m afraid, Henry.” I noticed that the floor, which I had always taken for granted, seemed solid, friendly. “I’m afraid to move. If I had a colon, I’d be scared shitless.”
