Chapter 24

When I did wake up, Larry was snoring. I recognized the tone of snore. It was his ‘Oh-God-I’ll-never-drink-that-much-again’ snore. I would hear that exact phrase from him once he woke up and showered.

All in all, I believe I had the better evening. Both Vicky and Pam were sexy and willing, though I doubt we had much else in common. I’d been processing last night unconsciously all morning. It was fun and hot. It was also a little desperate, I thought, people trying to fuck themselves into feeling better. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but it’s not my first choice as a solution to whatever problems I’m having.

Still, people deal with problems and worries in different ways, and what works for me may not work for them. If I were invited back by either of them I might go again, just for the curiosity factor, maybe to hook up with someone completely unknown to me to see what it feels like. But I don’t think I’d seek it out actively.

Oh, well, a choice I may not have to worry about if they don’t approach me again. For now, I thought over what I had to do before Monday. I had a quiz coming up in Statistics, and a research paper in Cells and Organisms, plus the usual reading and homework. So not so bad.

I spent a little time sketching out the research paper, then the door opened loudly and Larry stumbled in.

“Sorry, I tripped,” he said. “I’m not walking so good today. I swear, I’ll never drink like that again. I feel awful.”

“Other than that, was it as epic as you thought it was going to be?”

“I think so. It was turning out that way, then I kinda overdid the hard stuff and I don’t know what happened the rest of the night. Other folks were talking about it like it was, so maybe I missed the best parts.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem with too much alcohol. You usually miss the best parts.”

“I gotta take a nap, Carter. Please don’t breathe so loud for a while, okay?”

I booted my PC and found an email from Karen, who talked about the usual things. I still liked hearing about them, even though she’d talked about them before. Our lives were always going to be rather repetitive, because it was always about classes and tests, lack of time, too much pressure. Every so often there might be something new, like when she searched out research opportunities.

At the end she told me

Prof. Connolly caught me in the hall between classes and said again that I’d really helped keep the project on schedule by finding a way to figure out the best form of the data sets. It felt good that she remembers it.

Then she asked if I had time to work on another part of the project. They’re not ready yet, she just wanted to check if I was available when they are. I told her I’d make it work and she said, “Good” and walked off. So now I’m feeling pretty smug about my life.

Yeah, yeah, I know, it’s only a little thing, a tiny part of a much bigger project, but it’s the idea that she finds my work acceptable, that I can figure out how to do things on my own without a lot of direction from the bigwigs.

There was more to the email, but I was pleased for her. I could definitely see her working her way into other projects, taking larger roles. She’d be unstoppable by the time she was ready to graduate.

And so I settled back in to the repetitive tedium that was my school life. It didn’t much vary, only the timing of things like tests and papers due. Periodically I might do something to alter the flow, like go to a movie or hear some music, but I’d gotten into such a rhythm of studying because I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to keep up unless I kept up the pace.

It was silly and now mostly unnecessary since I’d happened on Brain Sponge, but it was my default behavior, so I’d rarely break out of it except on weekends. And as Christmas approached I had finals to concern me. I’d probably be fine, given that I could now remember almost everything I’d learned, but habits are hard to break.

But I knew I wouldn’t like the person I’d become if I didn’t do something not school-related every so often, thus I made it a point to attend the student activities I’d signed up for, martial arts and psychology club, for example. Those gave me a needed change of pace.

One Wednesday a few weeks before finals I went to psychology club, which normally featured various resident or visiting faculty talking about different areas of psychology and its applications. We never knew who was going to be talking. They were supposed to have all the speakers listed somewhere so we could plan our attendance, but somehow the student organizers never got around to it.

On this particular Wednesday I settled into my seat, glad to turn off my brain for a while. Eventually, Gary Evans, the president of the club, got up to introduce tonight’s speaker.

“Welcome, everyone. Glad to see such a strong turnout, because we’ve got an exciting speaker with an interesting topic tonight. He’s here today from Purdue University in Indiana and will be speaking about psychopharmacological agents. Please welcome Professor Michael Clark.”

As the applause died down, I looked him over. He had a faraway look to him, like his mind was pondering something, but the eyes were moving, taking things in, assessing. No dummy was Prof. Clark, I decided.

“Thank you, Mr. Evans. And yes, psychopharmacology is one of my interests. And what is it, precisely? It’s the study of those classes of drugs that affect the mind, change it, for good or bad. Psychologists and psychiatrists use drugs sometimes to reduce anxiety or increase focus, to manage deviant thinking, change one’s moods, to control certain urges. These are typically called psychoactive drugs, consciousness-altering drugs, often called psychotropic drugs.

“These are often used to change brain function and usually results in alterations in perception, mood, consciousness, cognition, or behavior. Almost always these kinds of substances are used to stabilize behaviors or perceptions for the benefit of patients who might otherwise have to be hospitalized.

“On the other side of the ethical fence, we have psychochemical warfare, psychopharmacological agents used to incapacitate an adversary through the temporary induction of hallucinations or delirium. During the 50’s and 60’s the military kept stockpiles of drugs of these kinds which might be deployed against an enemy force to reduce them to a state of confusion or catatonia such that they would not be an obstacle to our forces. These were mostly banned later on, since they violated a number of treaties and ethical rules.

“More recently, there have been instances of neuropharmacological torture used by various military groups, here and overseas, and of things like sodium thiopental, commonly called ‘truth serum’ in order to extract information from subjects.

“The mind is a fascinating subject, because the mind is so complex. We want to understand it, find out ways to fix it when it goes wrong, perhaps figure out ways to make it work even better. Drugs were one of the first ways that science found to poke at those issues.”

He went on in some detail about the different classifications of psychoactive drugs, their general effects, how they were tested, and so on.

He’d been speaking for close to an hour, and I confess I was wrapped up in the subject especially because it struck close to home for me. I’d found I was taking some sketchy notes. His voice brought me back.

“I’ve been talking a lot because obviously the subject fascinates me. But now I’m close to overrunning my allotted time here. So let me finish up. I’ve talked about how these drugs are normally used, the types of things they can modify, their side-effects. There’s still research going on, to come up with newer, better drugs, even some that can address quite specific neuroses or behaviors.

“What I didn’t talk about -- mostly because I get so involved with how they’re used now -- were other areas of research involving drugs and the mind. That’s probably worth a seminar of its own. For example, drugs that improve learning and/or memory retention. Or drugs that enhance certain motor skills, such as muscle control or response time, which might be used by athletes or airplane pilots, or even drugs to enhance eyesight.

“Another area, mostly unplumbed, is giving the mind entirely new abilities. The military experimented with this in the 50’s, but didn’t come up with much and it was dropped. But there were later efforts, too. Not much was made public, but there were rumors in the psychological community, scientists looking to open up psi abilities, like ESP or telekinesis. But mostly rumors.

“And there are some research labs where, I am told by colleagues, that such research is still going on, for example at Stilling Pharmaceuticals in Atlanta, which now has an active section looking into drugs that may open up some of those areas of interest, continuing some fairly recent military lab studies that were cut short.

“Well, I can see by Mr. Evans’ nervous affect -- that’s applied psychology right there -- that I’ve run past my agreed time, so let me thank you for listening so attentively. I have time for a few questions.”

There were a few raised hands, but I sat there, my brain spinning. This struck a bit close to home. The references were veiled, but reading between the lines I could almost see it. Military lab. Recent. Studies cut short. Could that be a reference to Wanamaker Labs?

I could almost see Beckham and McGuire making the rounds of research labs looking for funds to continue their research project. They had a track record, sketchy as it was, and they probably had enough gravitas and scientific reputation that such a proposal could be convincing. If they could produce subjects who could provide evidence by demonstrating some of those abilities...

I got up and walked out, the crowd still chattering behind me. I reviewed the talk in my head as I walked, trying to firm up certain details. When I got back to the dorm I grabbed a lined legal pad and wrote things down as fast as I could. I had two scribbled pages when I was done.

And what do I do with this? I don’t have the time or resources to follow up on this. Anyway, I’ve got other, more pressing things to worry about, like exams. In the end I thought that this is more of a Stan problem than a Tom problem. At least for now. I’d email him.

The next day I did just that, explaining what I’d heard in as much detail as I could recall. It would be enough for him to at least start looking into it. Then I put it out of my head since I couldn’t do anything more about it.

I returned to my comfortable if stressful class/study regimen. Exams were getting close now, I could see it written on the nervous faces of my dorm mates and others on campus. Larry’s party schedule seemed to have thinned out, and even he was spending more time with his face in his books.

At the end of the following week I finished the last of my labs and dropped off my books in my room. I was already planning my Brain Sponge cramming schedule in my head, deciding the order in which I should review each class. I should probably begin sometime this weekend so I don’t try to do too much at once. Ah, I’ll worry about it after dinner.

Today I got the pork loin, mostly because it looked less bad than the spaghetti and sauce. I loaded my tray, went through the register, and found a table.

Hmm, not so bad. I swallowed the first bite and cut another. A tray appeared on the other side of the table and I looked up.

“If you’re not expecting the President shortly, can I sit?”

“The President’s always late, Mindy. Probably trying to remember how to tie his shoelaces. Sit.”

She talked about her classes, the easy ones, the not-so-easy ones, and worried aloud about finals and if she was prepared.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine, you usually do.”

“I’m glad you’re so confident in my abilities, ‘cause I’m not. I get so stressed at exam time. I always have, even in high school. It’s why I always embarrassed myself at parties, like I told you. Trying to work off the stress.”

She took a bite of her dinner and chewed. “Though, if I’m to be honest, it’s not as much of a problem as it used to be. I found some stress relievers that work pretty well. Actually, it was you who pointed me in the right direction.”

While she took a drink I looked at her, puzzled, because I had no clue what I’d pointed out for her.

The confusion must have been written on my face because she said, as if explaining it to a dullard, “That catalog. Wallace. The one you lent me. I sent off for one of my own. It was instructive.”

Again, my blank face told her that I was in the slow group.

“The self-help section, Carter. Vibrators. Dildos.”

“Oh,” I said intelligently.

“S’funny,” she went on, “all through high school, even last year here, I never had one. ‘Cause there wasn’t any place in Utica where you could buy one, at least that I knew of. And my girlfriends never talked about them. You know, provincial town, some things are just never spoken of.

“Even here, the big city by comparison, there are probably places you can buy one over the counter, but I don’t know where they are. And I’d probably be too embarrassed to go in there anyway.

“So I never used one. I always just used my fingers. Or other things if they were available. But no dildos, no vibrators.”

She stopped a spoonful of rice pudding halfway to her mouth, thinking.

“The catalog was like the perfect opportunity. Completely anonymous. I could pay with a money order, so no embarrassing paper trail that my parents might come across. And all the possibilities! I confess I spent way too much time trying to visualize each one, how it worked, what it felt like.

“Can anybody hear us?” She looked around, nervously.

“I don’t know why I’m talking to you about this, maybe because we did all those things together so maybe I’m a little more comfortable talking to you. I can’t even bring this up to Katrina, I’m too embarrassed.

“I sent away for a few things. I wasn’t sure they were right, but I had to start somewhere. And when the box arrived, I couldn’t wait to get back to my room and look at them. I had to wait till Katrina went off to her boyfriend’s place before I ripped open the box.

“I got three things. Well, four if you count the lube. One was one of the little silver vibrators shaped like a cigar, it’s got a bunch of different vibration patterns programmed in. Another was a hard plastic dildo with a vibrator in it, green, sorta shaped like a penis in a kinda free-form Dali-esque way.