Michael Kube-McDowell - Odyssey

“Why is that?”

“I note that many human philosophers have recognized that the search for self-knowledge is the hardest search of all. It is extremely difficult for the human brain to contemplate and analyze the human brain. Its limitations make it impossible to see its limitations.”

Derec found himself in agreement with the robot. “The only thing a camera can’t see is itself. The only thing a ruler can’t measure is itself.”

“Quite. Questions of human brain functions have therefore been the slowest to yield to investigation by human researchers. Many aspects of human behavior are still puzzles despite centuries of neurological and biochemical studies.”

“So what do you think you can do?”

Dr. Galen spread his hands wide. “Positronic brains were not developed by copying how human brains function. They were developed by copying how human beings behave. Therefore, though the positronic brain is the product of the human brain, it represents a distinct form of intelligence and a different perspective.”

“Are you saying that positronic brains are more capable than human brains?”

“The key is that a robot does what it does differently than a human brain,” Dr. Galen said diplomatically. “I am convinced that it is an invention of the human brain which will eventually unlock the secrets of the human brain. So I am pleased to have the opportunity to do more than study and speculate.”

Derec shook his head. “Forget it. I don’t want to be a lab animal.”

“Forgive me,” Dr. Galen said. “In my enthusiasm I neglected to make clear that my primary interest is to help you. There are tests which I can perform to determine the cause of your condition. Depending on the cause, there may be measures which can be taken to reverse your condition.”

“Do you mean you can bring my memory back?”

“I will not know the likelihood of that until I have examined you.”

Derec regarded the promise of a magic cure with skepticism. “Look, I’m not going to be here very long,” he said. “Let’s not start something we won’t have time to finish.”

“I do not understand.”

“You said that ships call here every two months. If I’ve been here six weeks, my ride out of here should show up in two weeks-probably less.”

“No, Derec,” Dr. Galen corrected. “ Fariis came and went while you were recovering. The next vessel, the Heritage , is due in six weeks, three days.”

Derec stared. “A ship’s already been here? Then why am I still here?” he demanded.

“This station’s medical facilities are superior to those on board Fariis . It was not possible to release you to them in your condition.”

Derec closed his eyes and sighed. “All right. Probe away.” His eyes opened and he struggled to a seated position. “But I want to know what you’re doing before you do it, do you hear?”

“Thank you, Derec,” Dr. Galen said politely. “What do you know of amnesia?”

“Just what I see on the hypervision.”

“That is unfortunate,” Dr. Galen said.

“It’s just a saying. Actually, I don’t even remember that.”

“That is just as well,” Dr. Galen replied. “Amnesia has been used as a convenient device in fiction for centuries, usually in defiance of known facts. A common plot is for a victim to suffer a blow to the head, forget everything and everyone and begin leading a new life, then be restored in the closing scene by another blow.”

“That does sound sort of familiar. Maybe I have seen one or two like that,” Derec admitted.

“Please do your best to forget them,” Dr. Galen said disapprovingly. “They will only hinder understanding.”

Over the next three days, Derec learned a great deal about amnesia. He had had no idea how many kinds of amnesia there were and how many different causes had been identified. Under other circumstances, it would have been more than he wanted to know. But since he was personally affected, he avidly absorbed everything Dr. Galen told him.

Amnesia could affect the past (retrograde) or the present (anterograde). It could have physical causes (organic) or emotional ones (psychogenic). Some amnesiacs were unable to remember anything for more than a few seconds, while others would forget everything for only a few seconds at a time. Some victims knew that they were having difficulty, while others passionately denied it.

Nine out of every ten cases of amnesia, Derec learned, had some specific physical cause. Those causes were as different as inflammation of the whorled and folded outer layer of the brain, hardening of the cerebral arteries, electric shock, and deficiency of B vitamins. (Also on the list, but nowhere near the top, was a blow to the head.)

“In more primitive times, many cases of true organic amnesia were wrongly diagnosed as psychogenic,” Dr. Galen said as though outraged by the fact. “Patients who needed drugs or surgery were offered hypnosis and psychotherapy.”

“Maybe all amnesias have some physical cause,” Derec suggested. “Maybe the ten percent we still think are psychogenic are the ones we just haven’t found the organic cause for.”

But Dr. Galen dissented. “The distinction between mind and brain has not been completely erased by medical science. The mind is more than the sum of the brain’s parts. There are things that happen at that level of synergy which cannot be traced to specific physical events.”

Even so, the testing focused first on the possible physical causes. Dr. Galen subjected him to cortical analysis, an endorphin response test, three different nondestructive scans of his brain, and even a biopsy and culture for encephalitis.

“Your own awareness of your loss of memory is a clue, as your apparently unimpaired intelligence,” Dr. Galen told Derec. “You retain your sense of time and of the connectedness of events. All of these things are meaningful.”

But the unhappy truth was that all the clues added up to naught, and all the tests revealed nothing. Derec learned several new words to describe his condition-”fractionated retrograde hypnosis-resistant psychogenic amnesia”-but he learned nothing about himself.

“I can find no physical cause,” Dr. Galen concluded reluctantly at the end of a week. “Your cortex, thalamus, mammillary bodies, and fornix bundle are all normal. And yet you have not responded to any psychogenic therapy I am aware of. I am sorry, Derec, I have failed you.”

“Don’t take it so hard,” Derec said, sighing. “I’m beginning to get used to life in the dark.”

In the course of the testing, Dr. Galen had gradually allowed Derec more and more freedom of movement until he had the run of the small hospital complex. Physically, he was nearly completely restored. His new skin was no longer painful to the touch and was gradually becoming less sensitive to variations in temperature. His ribs had knitted while he was kept unconscious, and the only sign they had even been broken was an occasional stitch of dull pain when he drew a deep breath or stretched the wrong way.

Despite that progress, Dr. Galen resisted releasing Derec from his care. The furthest he would go was to allow Derec to move from the ICU to a private room with more traditional accommodations. But the robot’s recalcitrance was not entirely a surprise. With their special First Law responsibility as healers, robot doctors were notorious for their caution.

But Derec suspected that it was not the injuries to his body that concerned Dr. Galen, but the injury to Derec’s mind. The real reason for keeping Derec nearby was to keep him under observation while he treated Katherine. Since Dr. Galen could not be in two places at once, he was keeping his two patients in one place.