Research Subject
Lisa was just packing up, getting ready to sneak out just a little early, when a shadow passed over her desk. A wide, lumbering, dim-witted looking shadow. She looked up to see her boss, Merv Steinhandler, just managing to squeeze through her office door.
“Santiago.” He paused to catch his breath, leaning on the doorframe. “You write that speech for Wolfram last week? The one she gave at the SBA dinner?”
“Yeah...?” Lisa looked up at him, bored. She couldn’t imagine why Merv was bothering her with this—Wolfram was one of their most solid clients, with a great track record on small business. Her only serious primary challenger, Ron Hoyt, trailed her by 9 points. And that speech had been some of Lisa’s better work, if she didn’t say so herself.
“‘As businesspeople, we know that the private sector delivers quality services to Americans with greater efficiency, greater competence, and with more passion for a job well done than a government bureaucrat can ever provide,’” Merv read aloud from a sheaf of papers. “‘And this is more true than ever in these difficult financial times; the ingenuity and ambition of America’s businesses has delivered us from crisis before, and I know it can and will again, if we let it. This is why I’ve pledged to say “NO” to any new pork spending from Washington! You don’t need your money tangled up in some government office. You need to put that money to work, creating new jobs and powering our economy to grow again! You need tax relief, and I will spend each day fighting for you until we have it!’” He looked up. “Good stuff, Santiago. Good stuff.”
“Uh... thanks,” Lisa said, looking up at Merv with her best ‘can-we-get-to-the-point-now-please’ expression.
“Just one problem though, with that ‘no-new-pork’ pledge. She just introduced some new $70 mil program in committee.”
“What?? That can’t be right! I mean come on, she would at least know to wait until after the election!”
Merv shuffled through his stack of papers, and dropped one onto Lisa’s desk. “An Act to Advance Research in Neurotherapeutics. S-3013. Sponsor: Melissa Wolfram (R-VA). $70,230,008.”
“What the fuck?? WHY do candidates drop 30 IQ points the moment they enter campaign season?” Lisa reached for her phone, evening plans forgotten—she would need to get to the bottom of this and do damage control first.
“Yeah, I’m as confused as you, Lisa.” One of Wolfram’s legislative aides, Jeff, was on the other end of the phone, munching an apple. “The Senator met with some bigshot professor, I think from Alexendria U or something, last night, then this morning she had us slap together this bill in time for the Science and Technology Committee meeting.”
“But she just pledged not to-”
“Oh I know—we’d been working on tax policy stuff all week. This came out of left field for us. I mean, she’s been on the Sci/Tech committee since last year, but all she’s ever done there is try to block big spending bills.”
“And if she wants her primary numbers to stay up, she should have stuck to that... I can only imagine what Hoyt’s people are gonna do with this, especially after her speech last week.” Lisa sighed, exasperated. “What is this thing, anyway? Neuro-thero-whatsit?”
“Far as I can tell, from twenty minutes of research, it’s some new brain imaging technology. Or not brain imaging exactly... some way of changing brain activity, for medical use, if that makes any sense. Here-” sounds of Jeff leaving through a stack of paper- “maybe you should talk to this research guy who put the idea in the Senator’s head in the first place. Elliot, uh... Elliot Tapasov.”
That sounded like a lead.
“Elliot Tapasov, PhD, is Assistant Professor in Psychology and Neuroscience at Alexandria University,” Lisa read. “A pioneer in the field of neurotherapeutics, Dr. Tapasov’s research focuses on developing novel techniques for optimizing patterns of neural activation in clinical and normal populations, including repetitive transcranial magnetic stimulation (rTMS) and epiflorescent neural reinforcement (ENR). Dr. Tapasov is the recipient of numerous awards, including a NARSAD Young Investigator award and several awards from the National Institutes of Health.”
“Well this is useless,” Lisa muttered to herself. “I’ll have to call this guy—hopefully he can speak plain English.” Looking at his photo on the Alexandria U website, she had her doubts about this—he was kind of cute, but with shaggy, unkempt hair and a goofy sheepish grin—definitely a nerd. “Here goes...” Lisa picked up the phone.
“Elliot Tapasov.” The voice answering the phone after a single ring was not what she’d expected. Even with just two words, he sounded confident and self-assured... as if he knew he would be in control of the conversation, before even knowing who she was or why she was calling. Well, they’d see about that.
“Dr. Tapasov, my name is Lisa Santiago. I’m with the Wolfram for Virginia campaign. I’m calling to ask about your neurotherapeutics program... and what about it is important enough to have Senator Wolfram forget about her own no-new-spending pledge.” Translation: what the hell do you think you’re up to?
“Oh yes, I think Melissa did mention a pledge of some sort at our meeting... but she didn’t seem too concerned about it, once we’d finished our conversation. And I really doubt our program here will be a liability for her—quite the opposite, I’d say! And she certainly thought so, too.”
Lisa clenched her fist. The nerve of this guy! As if he knew the first thing about running a campaign.... “Dr. Tapasov, with all due respect, proposing tens of millions of dollars in new funding right after promising NOT to do exactly that can be quite a liability. I’m sure your research, whatever it is, is quite, uh, fascinating, but we can’t-”
“Oh it really IS fascinating. I mean, just the progress we’re making on neural signal modulation is-”
“Okay, listen.” This guy was clearly in over his head, and it was time to make that clear. “You might not think so, but your little science projcet is about to screw over my candidate in a race she should be sailing right through. And you might not think so, but I have a few friends over at NIH, and I can see to it that you don’t get funding for so much as a high school science fair after this. Or, we can sit down and work something out.”
Lisa expected him to pause and quake in his boots for a minute, but Tapasov didn’t miss a beat. “You read my mind—exactly what I was about to suggest. I’m actually still here in the District—why don’t we get together for a drink, and we can talk and get this all figured out.”
Lisa wouldn’t normally delay her evening plans for some science nerd from Virginia, but she was all for averting this crisis before it got out of hand.
Which was why she found herself waiting, quite impatiently, at a table for two at Sonoma. She’d told herself she wasn’t going to listen to any song and dance about Tapasov’s science project—she was just going to lay down the law, get him to call the Senator and tell her he didn’t need funding so urgently after all, and be done with the matter in time to meet her friends for dinner. She just wished he would show up already—she was dying for a drink.
Suddenly someone placed a drink in front of her. “So sorry to be late,” Dr. Tapasov told her. “I took the liberty of getting you a drink so we can get started.”
Lisa looked down—a martini, very dirty. Exactly what she’d wanted. “But how did you-”
“It’s what you always drink, isn’t it, Ms. Santiago? At least, that’s what Melissa told me yesterday evening.” Lisa was bewildered that apparently the Senator and this professor had been talking about her. As if reading her mind, Tapasov went on, “Oh, she told me that you’d be the biggest obstacle to her proposing funding for my research. That you’d be concerned with her staying ‘on-message.’ That if I was going to have a chance in hell, I should at least buy you a drink.”
So the Senator had warned him about Lisa, but hadn’t even paid her the courtesy of a heads-up that she was going back on her pledge and introducing new legislation. Lisa briefly wondered whose campaign the Senator thought she was on.
“I see,” Lisa said icily. She was a little taken aback, and felt as if she were starting to lose control of the dialogue before it had even started. She took a sip of her drink, tried to gather her wits, and sized up the man sitting across the table.
From the blurry photo on the Alexendria website, she’d pictured a frazzled absent-minded professor type, probably pushing 40. The dark-haired man before her seemed both much younger and more confident than what she’d expected. And, she had to allow, more attractive. His dark brown eyes in particular seemed to catch the light, and Lisa’s attention.
“...lucky you caught me this afternoon!” he was saying. “I was about to head back to Virginia.”
“Yes,” Lisa replied. “You’re very lucky. This way you can head home knowing exactly what’s what.” She paused for another sip. “Now listen, Dr. Tapasov-”
“Call me Elliot. I mean, that’s alright with you, isn’t it, Lisa?”
“Uh, yes, fine. But anyways-”
“And I’m sorry—it’s alright with you if I call you Lisa?”
“Yes,” she replied, without thinking. Now why had she said that? She had actually found it a little too familiar, at first. Now that she had said yes, though, Lisa supposed it was all right—he was just being friendly, and it was probably best to be agreeable if she was going to set Elliot straight. “Now Elliot, look-”
“‘Now Elliot look, my boss made this big promise, and now you’ve gone and mucked it all up, and she’s liable to lose the election on your account. So quit it!’ That what you’re gonna say?” He flashed her a grin which, if it weren’t so innocent, she would have sworn was mischievous.
“Well... yes! The thing is-”
“Right. I read you. So let me make you a pretty fair offer—just let me describe my research to you, give it a fair hearing... and once you really understand it, if you still want me to, I’ll call up Senator Wolfram myself and just tell her to scrap the whole bill. I mean, that seems more than fair, doesn’t it Lisa?”
Oh, no. No way. This was exactly what Lisa had promised herself she wouldn’t stand for. Elliot seemed to think he was quite the smooth talker, but she wasn’t about to just roll over and say
“Yes.” What the HELL? Lisa thought. She’d just automatically said yes—she hadn’t even thought about it. She had to take back control of this conversation. As Elliot opened his mouth to speak, she blurted out, “I shouldn’t like you putting words in my mind!”
Elliot looked at her quizzically.
Lisa giggled, in spite of herself. “I mean, uh... I shouldn’t LET you put words in my MOUTH.” Lisa took another swallow of her martini. This was ridiculous! She shouldn’t feel so muddle-headed after just a few sips. This WAS a good martini, though—it had tasted just a little off at first, but now she was feeling warm and much more agreeable than she had just an hour ago.
“‘Putting words in your mind.’ That’s an interesting phrase, Lisa. Actually not totally unrelated to my research.”
Here it came—the science lecture. Lisa was about to interrupt when she remembered she had agreed to let him do his spiel. Reflecting on this, it did seem easier to just be agreeable and listen to what he had to say. Then she could tell him what for and be on her way.
“So I imagine you’re familiar with MRI—basically using magnets to take a picture of your brain. And you may have heard of functional MRI—which uses electromagnetism to image your brain activity - just taking a picture of which neurons are firing, which brain areas are active, trying to put that all together to figure out how your brain creates your experience and personality and your desires. How it creates and controls your whole reality, basically.”
Lisa nodded—this did all sound familiar. Elliot paused to take a drink. He looked at Lisa, and she did the same.
“Right. So my research delves deeper into this. Transcranial magnetic stimulation again uses electromagnetism, but here we’re not just taking a picture of your brain; we’re changing the picture. I can target a pulse of energy to specific areas of your brain, excite or inhibit neurons there... and since your neurons control your experience and your behavior, in effect I can then control your experience, or behavior, or desires.” Lisa felt a chill run down her spine. Elliot grinned at her. “Assuming, of course, you’d want me to.”
This all sounded seriously weird. “And why would I want you to?”
“Well, the clinical applications are huge, potentially. Like, say you have a lesion in your parvo visual pathway.” Lisa stared at him blankly. “Sorry—so you have this pathway,” Elliot leaned forward, “that carries visual data from your optic nerve, here...” he lightly touched her temple. Lisa felt herself flush, and tried to pull away. But instead leaned in a little closer. “...through the thalamus, here...” Elliot trailed his fingers from her temple, through her hair, to just behind her ear, “...all the way down to your occipital lobe... here...” he gracefully slid his fingers to the back of her neck, traced a circle, and pulled away. Lisa was just about to open her mouth when he looked her directly in the eyes. He was so close she could see her own reflection. She looked small and delicate, wide-eyed and a little dazed. “And that’s how your brain gets information about everything your eyes see.”
Lisa couldn’t find a word to say.
“So anyways, say you have damage somewhere in that pathway. Well, zap the tissue around the lesion, to promote activity there... and do this over, and over, and over... so it gets a little stronger, and a little deeper, each and every time...” Lisa shook her head. She seemed to be losing track of what he was telling her. Something about going deeper, over and over... “And eventually, the brain develops a new pathway. Voila! Vision is restored! We’ve healed the blind!”
They laughed. Lisa laughed out of relief more than at his corny joke... she’d started feeling a little spacey there, but now they seemed to be back on earth. Although it had felt nice, listening to Elliot go on about her brain.
Elliot drained his glass and looked at her expectantly. She obligingly followed suit. “Let me fetch another round. Won’t be half a second. Assuming it’s okay with you, Lisa?”
“Yes! I mean, um. Well, yes.” She giggled as he strode off towards the bar. She really ought to wrap this up, but she had to admit she was actually enjoying herself—pretty rare for a meeting with some pointy-headed “expert” from academia. And at this particular moment, she was feeling too good and warm to think about moving out of her seat.
“Brilliant! Now where were we....” Elliot placed another martini in front of her, and sat down with another gimlet for himself. He raised his glass and took a big swallow, and watched as Lisa did the same. “Thank you, by the way, for being such a patient listener - you’re so agreeable! I suppose in your line of work you find it easy to be agreeable. Isn’t that so, Lisa?”
This wasn’t necessarily so, but it did seem true with Elliot. “Yes,” Lisa found herself saying, “it is easy to be agreeable.”
“Mmm, very good,” Elliot said. Lisa thought this was a strange thing to say, and found it stranger still that she felt a flash of warmth at his approval. “It feels good to be agreeable.”
Lisa giggled—that explained that weird flash of warmth she’d felt! “It does feel good!” she agreed.
“Right. Anyways, back to my research program. I’m sure you’ll agree that the clinical implications are quite promising.”
Lisa felt herself starting to say “yes” (again!), but bit her tongue. She was supposed to be shutting this guy down, not encouraging him! Because of... something about a pledge. She composed herself.
“Well, it all seems a little far-fetched, really. I don’t believe you can just strap someone to a machine and... control their brain, or whatever. That sort of thing just isn’t possible.”
“Of course it’s possible. In a way, that’s what psychology is all about. Changing your behavior to be healthier. Shaping your mind, shaping your desires... my research is using technology to fine-tune these things, but this has all been possible for centuries. For as long as there’s been language, really.” Elliot leaned towards Lisa. He looked, for just a moment, like he was sizing her up. Then he went on.
“Just look at this conversation we’ve been having. I’m teaching you about something you didn’t know about—and you’ve been such a great student so far,” he added with a grin. Lisa blushed and tried—and failed—to stop herself from grinning back. Normally she would have found the remark a bit condescending, but instead she just felt good to have Elliot’s approval. He had so much he could teach her, and she wanted to be a good student.
“Anyways,” Elliot went on, “I’m teaching you something new, and that’s changing your brain. Your neurons form new connections with each new memory you form. And so every word I say changes your brain, permanently. Automatically. Without any thought or awareness on your part. Your brain just responds to each idea, each word. My words just easily, automatically shape your mind. Your mind just responds. My words slip deep down in your mind and change you. It’s just natural, as our conversation flows on. You just get caught up in that river of words, and don’t even think about my words seeping into your mind and shaping you deep inside. But they do. Don’t they, Lisa?”
Lisa struggled to answer Elliot’s question. She felt that she’d listened to every word he said, and had been looking straight into his eyes the whole time, but still somehow felt as if she were lost in a daydream. She’d totally forgotten what she was supposed to be agreeing to, but dimly remembered that warm feeling of pleasure that came with Elliot’s approval. And so she whispered, “Yes.”
Elliot smiled. “Good, that’s right.” Lisa shivered. “And my words are always changing and re-arranging and opening your mind. And you can feel it, if you really focus. Just focus on my words and your own mind, and you’ll feel your mind just shifting and opening up with each word.” Lisa felt her eyelids flutter.
“That’s right—it’s okay to just let your eyes slide shut for a moment—there—and just focus on the inside of your mind. That part way deep down that hears and processes and accepts all my words. Feel those new connections growing, all through your mind. Like a plant, sprouting shoots and dropping roots way deep down, just spreading my words through your whole mind. With leaves and buds and flowers that open and grow and push everything else away, far away. Filling your empty heavy head with my words. Making you sooo heavy and weak.”
Lisa sat, her eyes slits, her mouth hanging wide open. She felt herself swaying back and forth in her chair, struggling to keep her heavy head full of shoots and words and vines up off the table.
“And I’m so deep down in that head, Lisa, that of course I know just exactly what you’re feeling. What you need. What you desire. Isn’t that right?”
Lisa managed a slow, heavy nod.
“And right now you’re SO heavy and sleepy, I know you desire to just lie down in a deep soft bed. You’ll just let my words seep deeper down in your mind and put you down to sleep. And that’s just what you want, isn’t it Lisa?” Another nod.
“There’s my good girl. Take my hand now—we’re going home.”