Free Terminal Man by Michael Crichton Page B

determined with computer review as within established limits. Electrodes sealed with Tyler fixation caps and seven-oh-grade dental sealer. Transmission wires—”
    “What do you want on him?” the rec-room nurse asked.
    “Vital signs Q five minutes for the first hour, Q fifteen for the second, Q thirty for the third, hourly thereafter. If he’s stable, you can move him up to the floor in six hours.”
    The nurse nodded, making notes. Morris sat down by the bedside to write a short operative note:
    Short operative note on Harold F. Benson
    Pre-op dx: acute disinhibitory lesion (temporal focus)
    Post-op dx: same
    Procedure: implantation of twin Briggs electrode arrays into right temporal lobe with subdermal placing of computer and plutonium charging unit.
    Pre-op meds: phenobarbital 500 mg one hr. prior to
    atropine 60 mg procedure
    Anaesthesia: lidocaine (1/1000) epinephrine locally
    Estimated blood loss: 250 cc
    Fluid replacement: 200 cc D5/W
    Operative duration: 1 hr. 12 min.
    Post-op condition: good
    As he finished the note, he heard Ross say to the nurse, “Start him on phenobarb as soon as he’s awake.” She sounded angry.
    Morris looked up at her. She was frowning, her face tight. “Something the matter, Jan?”
    “No,” she said. “Of course not.”
    “Well, if there’s anything you want to—”
    “Just make sure he gets his phenobarb. We want to keep him sedated until we can interface him.”
    And she stormed out of the room. Morris watched her go, then glanced over at Ellis, who was still dictating but had been watching. Ellis shrugged.
    Morris adjusted the monitoring equipment on the shelf above Benson’s head. He turned it on and waited until it warmed up. Then he placed the temporary induction unit around Benson’s taped shoulder.
    During the operation, all the wires had been hooked up, but they were not working yet. First, Benson would have to be “interfaced.” This meant determining which of the forty electrodes would stop his seizures, and locking in the appropriate switches on the subdermal computer. Because the computer was under the skin, the locking in would be accomplished by an induction unit, which worked through the skin. But the interfacing couldn’t be done until tomorrow.
    Meanwhile, the equipment monitored Benson’s brainwave activity. The screens above the bed glowed a bright green, and showed the white tracing of his EEG. The pattern was normal for alpha rhythms slowing from sedation.
    Benson opened his eyes and looked at Morris.
    “How do you feel?” he asked.
    “Sleepy,” he said. “Is it beginning soon?”
    “It’s over,” Morris said.
    Benson nodded, not at all surprised, and closed his eyes. A rad-lab technician came in and checked for leakage from the plutonium with a Geiger counter. There was none. Morris slipped the dog tag around Benson’s neck. The nurse picked it up curiously, read it, and frowned.
    Ellis came over. “Time for breakfast?”
    “Yes,” Morris said. “Time for breakfast.”
    They left the room together.

3
    T HE TROUBLE WAS HE DIDN’T REALLY LIKE THE sound of his voice. His voice was rough and grating, and his enunciation was poor. McPherson preferred to see the words in his mind, as if they had been written. He pressed the microphone button on the dictation machine. “Roman numeral three. Philosophical Implications.”
    III. Philosophical Implications.
    He paused and looked around his office. The large model of the brain sat at the corner of his desk. Shelves of journals along one wall. And the TV monitor. On the screen now he was watching the playback of the morning’s operation. The sound was turned off, themilky images silent. Ellis was drilling holes in Benson’s head. McPherson watched and began to dictate.
    This procedure represents the first direct link between a human brain and a computer. The link is permanent. Now, of course, any man sitting at a computer console and interacting with the computer by pressing buttons can be