Free True by Michael Cordy

shoulder-length black hair, strong nose, lopsided smile and large brown eyes. Then she reached out and touched the glass. 'That's my face,' she said. Then she pointed to the little girl's paler features. 'And that's yours, Sofia.' Finally she turned and beckoned to the couple waiting in the doorway. 'Sofia, you've got some special visitors.'
    The child beamed at them. 'Ciao, I'm Sofia. Who are you?'
    The woman bit her lip, unable to speak. The man put his arms round his wife and smiled at Sofia, a sweet, sad smile. He bent and stroked the child's cheek. 'Darling, it's Mummy and Daddy.'
    'PROSOPAGNOSIA,' ISABELLA BACCI REPEATED SLOWLY, WATCHING Sofia's parents mouth the word as they tried to come to terms with their daughter's condition. Ever since she'd been only a little older than Sofia, Isabella had been torn between becoming a research scientist like her father or a doctor like her grandfather. The latter had teased her that scientists were dreamers, idealists who achieved little in their lifetime: only doctors had the power to cure people. But her father never tired of reminding her that without research scientists doctors had no power. The debate had lost its meaning when her mother died of an aneurysm and no one, scientist or doctor, had been able to help. In the end Isabella had decided to become both.
    Now, sitting in her office in the neurology department, she wished she could do more for Sofia. 'Try to understand that your daughter's been very lucky. Her head injuries were severe, but apart from this isolated aberration, her brain functions are unaffected. The surgeons are convinced the physical scarring will be negligible.'
    The mother, calmer now, nodded thoughtfully.
    Isabella pointed to the screen showing the PET scan of Sofia's brain. 'This region on the right side of the brain is the infero-temporal cortex. It's a highly evolved area where visual and memory systems mesh. The inferotemporal cortex and the fusiform gyms specialize in the recognition of human faces. It's their sole function. This inborn skill allows a newborn to recognize its mother at only a few weeks' old. This is the area of Sofia's brain that was damaged in the accident.
    'Prosopagnosia, or face-blindness, is rare. People with autism and Asperger's sometimes have it. A few sufferers are born with the condition and some, like Sofia, acquire it from a specific head trauma.'
    'How long will it last?' the father asked.
    Isabella considered how she might feel if she was unable to recognize her loved ones' faces. Faces that even an inanimate security computer could identify. She thought of Leo and of how she had been able only recently to stop obsessing about his face. The irony didn't make her smile. 'I'm afraid Sofia will probably be face-blind for the rest of her life. Research is being conducted into prosopagnosia all the time, and I've been working in the area for a while, but currently there's no cure.'
    'She'll never recognize us?' the mother said.
    'Not your faces. Not until a cure is found. But she'll recognize your voices, the way you walk and all the other little things. Don't forget, Sofia has all her other faculties. There's nothing wrong with her memory or vision. She's just unable to recognize facial features -- including her own. She'll adapt.'
    'How do you know?' Sofia's father said bitterly.
    'That's a good question.' Isabella stood up and walked across to the glass-fronted refrigerated cabinet on the other side of her office. A tray of stainless-steel canisters sat on the top shelf. She opened the door, selected one and rested it on her palm. The steel felt cool on her skin. 'Research Sample: Amigo Extract' was typed in bold on a white label. As she placed the cannister on the desk in front of Sofia's parents the tablets rattled inside it.
    'This drug is one of the latest research advances. It's derived from an illegal recreational drug called Amigo, an offshoot of Ecstasy. Amigo was created for the club scene on the west coast