Free Human by Robert Berke

brain intact so that you can gradually start drawing memories from the artificial one, blah, blah, blah, first man in history to have two brains, completely unprecedented, unknowable and unquantifiable risks, blah, blah, blah. Any questions?'"
    Bayron was startled. He didn't remember every word he had said, and he certainly didn't have a recording of it, but he'd be damned if he hadn't just heard his words back EXACTLY as he had spoken them. It was as if they had been recorded. Bayron's brain acted fast to figure out what he had just experienced. It quickly made sense... if Smith were reading his memories from the machine version of his mind, his memory would, ipso facto, be perfect.
    "Okay, let's try another. Do you remember what I said to you before the operation for your eyes and ears?"
    Again, Smith repeated the lecture word for word.
    "Okay, looks like your accessing memories from the machine. We'll do the formal testing tomorrow. Let's just take the rest of the day off."
    Then Smith said something unexpected. "I have work to do. How can I access my e-mail?"
    "For now, you'll just have to have someone read it and write it for you, I guess."
    Smith took control of the conversation just like he used to do when he was still strong. "I would think it would be easy enough to hook me into the internet through the eyes and ears. Just make an video connection right into my visual processing. It's exactly the same as the camera, but I'll be 'seeing' the computer output instead of you. Then use the same speech-to-text program so I can write and navigate using verbal fingerprints."
    Bayron said, "Oh, I know it can be done, but it adds an infinite number of new variables. What if you can't distinguish your memories from the information available on the internet? What if you get hacked?"
    "You can't keep the genie in the bottle, Bayron. Just firewall me as best as you can. I want this done ASAP."
    "I can't quantify the risks, Smith."
    "Look, Bayron," Smith's measured, artificial voice articulated in its unchanging, even tone, "we've been dealing in unquantifiable risks from the first time we shook hands on this endeavor. This is not a significant increase in risk and you know it. You just want me all for yourself."
    "You're my monster, Mr. Smith. I know you understand my concerns."  Bayron knew that Smith would get what he wanted. He didn't bother to fight. "I still have the team that designed and implemented the interfaces and all they're doing is monitoring now. I can put them on this right away and probably get you on the internet within a few days. Just, don't go Frankenstein on me."
    "Don't frighten me with metaphors. I'm no monster and you're no Dr. Frankenstein."
    "Your genie metaphor is equally frightening, Smith. Remember what happened when the genie got out of the bottle."
    "I promise to be good."
    "At least be careful," Bayron said turning to go back to his lab, "you're still only human, after all."
    Just before Bayron left the room, Smith stopped him. "By the way, Doc, any idea why I might have dreamt of Russia last night?"
    Bayron stopped in his tracks and turned around. "What?" He said, then repeated, "What do you mean?" Bayron's surprise was undisguised as he walked back to the monitor.
    Smith told Bayron about his dream and Bayron's face went flush. "We had to use some parts of the Russian model, but nothing that should have affected your memory. I'm going to chalk this one up to the vagaries of the subconscious. Let me know if you have any waking memories that you can't identify as your own. That would be cause for some concern."
    "It's a little more complex than a European Quail, isn't it?"  Smith asked rhetorically.
    "We're going to know more about how the human brain works than anyone ever has, Mr. Smith, as if we didn't already."
    "I hope Bob Hanover got those patents done. You should follow up on that when you get a chance."
    "I'll do that," Bayron replied. "In the meantime, let me know if Flat Stanley makes