The Memory Painter

Everyone struggled to digest this. Diana finally said, “Are we talking past life recall?”


Michael shook his head. “I don’t know. But it was an episodic, semantic, and emotional experience. Long-term memory access is dependent on new proteins. Right now I’m getting huge amounts, plus additional synaptic firepower. What if the drug enabled new pathways and I retrieved some kind of subliminal memory?”

“Then there could be more memories—more lives.” Diana sounded concerned.

Conrad added, “Like a schizophrenic.”

Michael glared at Conrad, trying to keep his frustration in check. “Whatever it is, we can’t shy away from what I experienced. I think our best course of action is to wait several weeks before anyone else takes it. Until we know the full extent of my reaction.” Diana reached out and gave his hand a squeeze, and he knew he had been forgiven.

Finn leaned forward. “I disagree, chief. This could be the biggest breakthrough since the discovery of DNA. We need to forge ahead.”

Conrad scoffed, but Michael ignored it. “We will, believe me. I just think we need to forge cautiously. Two weeks is all I’m asking.”

Finn signaled the bartender, Patty, for another round. “It’s all you’re getting.”

Conrad studied Michael like a specimen under a microscope. “You can really speak all those languages?”

Michael tried to lighten the mood. “Worried I’m smarter than you now?”

Just then Doc came over with another pitcher. “You guys win the Nobel Prize or something? You haven’t drunk this much since you got that grant.”

Finn raised his glass. “We’re having a breakthrough.”

Conrad mumbled, “Or something.”

“How about four clam chowders and a basket of bread?”