Free Eternal by H. G. Nadel Page A

said, “We’ve been working together for two months now, and I’m not your teacher. Do you think you could call me by my first name?” Now she whispered, as if afraid of being overheard, “Caleb, are you still alive?” At that moment, the hairs rose on the back of her neck. She felt sure someone else was in the room. She saw a reflection in her laptop, something passing her bedroom door. She looked over her shoulder but saw nothing out of the ordinary. She shrugged off the sudden chill and turned back to her work.
    They were very close to discovering whether the pineal gland was the link between body and soul. Yes, they had watched the pineal gland regain momentary activity at the chemical level, a change no one had ever achieved before. But a week later, they had also done follow-up tests with two more brains, and that time they’d created a change that had lasted long enough to yield another measurement: weight. For just two seconds, each brain had gained twenty-one grams.
    It was impossible to ignore the possibility: This was the same twenty-one grams that Dr. Duncan MacDougal’s test subjects had lost upon their deaths in 1901, causing him to speculate that he had discovered the precise weight of the human soul. The results Julia and Bertel had achieved were tentative; but, if they were proven, the scientific implications were staggering. Bertel had been as giddy as a teenager.
    “We’ve found it, Julia: Descartes’ seat of the soul! Do you think the soul enters the pineal gland at birth or before that?”
    “Even light has weight, Dr. Bertel. It could be that we’ve simply reintroduced some form of energy into these brains. We still have a ways to go before we can call it a
soul
.”
    “Yes, we do. But come on, Julia, give in to your imagination for a moment. Can you picture what it will be like if we get there?”
    She grinned. “Pretty awesome!”
    “That’s my girl!”
    Although Julia wasn’t sure she believed in God, she considered life after death a possibility. What others called “the soul” could simply be the energy associated with the human brain. If energy and matter couldn’t be created or destroyed, but could only change form, then where did that energy go after death? She was willing to concede the possibility, especially because it made Dr. Bertel so happy.
    “Dr. Bertel,” she said, “there’s one thing that worries me.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Dr. Frankenstein.”
    “Julia, that’s just a story.”
    “Yes, but it’s about the hubris of man trying to usurp the role of God. There might be something to that.”
    “I thought you didn’t believe in God.”
    “Okay, Nature then. I mean, maybe death is, you know, natural.”
    “Viruses and bacteria are natural too. Do you think we should let them run rampant?”
    “Of course not. I just think the possibility of raising the dead raises moral questions.”
    Bertel’s face had changed when she’d said that, becoming almost manic—whether with joy or fear, she couldn’t tell. “Of course, Julia!” He gripped her shoulders. “And I don’t want you to even think about trying such a thing on your own. We’re a long way from clinical trials.”
    Julia realized now that it wasn’t Bertel she’d been trying to convince. She kept thinking about the moment the breath had left her mother’s body. She’d imagined injecting a chemical into her mother’s pineal gland to keep her soul with them. How long would it have worked before her diseased body would no longer have made a usable vessel? Long enough to exchange a few more words? Long enough to see her high school graduation? Long enough to meet her future husband?
    That night, Julia had laid in her bed, unable to sleep. It was too late for her mother. But maybe they could save someone else. Had they actually found the path to immortality? When she had finally fallen asleep, she’d dreamed about Frankenstein’s monster chasing her all over the campus of UCI. In her dream,