The Cost of Kindness

Systolina by WOMBO Dream.

Below on this blog page is my edited version of Chapter 7 of the science fiction story "The Sims". I made my final version of Chapter 7 by editing Claude's first draft of the chapter which is shown in my previous blog post. Claude's version of the chapter was 8,100 words long while mine is about 8,550 words, bringing the length of the first seven chapters of "The Sims" to almost 60,000 words.

Claude and I continued to have different opinions about how and when the various characters in "The Sims" should learn about each-other's secrets. Now having reached the end of Chapter 7, the question looming over "The Sims" is this: is the story done yet? As shown in my next blog post, I posed that question to Claude. I feel like Chapter seven successfully resolves the misgivings I had over Brak's story arc, but now it is not clear if Systolina will be okay. Possibly there is a need for a Chapter 8 that would explicitly show her fate.

Chapter 7: The Cost of Kindness (Chapter 1)(Ch. 2)(Ch. 3)(Ch. 4)(Ch. 5)(Ch. 6)

Scene 1: Not Over Yet

University of California, Los Angeles, December 10, 2041 (11:47 PM)

Image generated by Gemini.

Upon his return from Casanay, Brak's apartment was a trap and a trigger for anger. There on the kitchen table was a photographic print and a frame; the remnants of Brak's work in progress before the arrival of the snow storm forecast and his mad dash to Arizona. What should have been a fun skiing vacation had become a chance for his inattention to detail to kill Tyhry. He methodically finished framing the photograph and hung it on the entryway wall.

Image generated by Gemini.

Activating his laptop, for five minutes he sat with its screen glowing in his face, displaying his nearly completed research dissertation. Brak was thinking of the wonders of Tyhry and the impossibility that she was gone. Brak refused to accept that he had killed Tyhry. The atmosphere at Casanay had simply been too weird. He told himself: Tyhry was caught up in some mystery that she dared not tell me about.

He couldn't stop thinking about the brain activity data Tyhry had shown him that had been collected from Tyhry's own sleeping brain. Those impossible brain region activity synchronization patterns. The simultaneous activation of neural networks that shouldn't ever be able to activate together during sleep. It haunted him. He wondered: maybe she was pranking me with fake data, trying to provide me with something, anything, that would hide and cover up her proprietary research for CoArtTel.

Figure 1. Image generated by Gemini.

Slamming shut his laptop, he went to take a shower and wash away the past. Tyhry would not fabricate data just to throw me off the trail. Throwing off his clothing, he paused and noticed that there on his bed lay the shirt he'd been wearing during the crash. Now a source of grief-inducing memories, under the funky purple LED light of his bedroom, Brak noticed the blood stains on the fabric. Tyhry's blood. Dried, but still containing her DNA molecules.

Brak put the shirt in a plastic trash bag. After the shower, Brak went to the research lab where he had completed his Ph.D. Research project. He pulled on latex gloves then he took out his shirt inside a sterile hood and moistened the largest blood stain with ultrapure sterilized water. Using duct tape, he pulled off the surface layer of the moist blood. Then using a sterile scalpel, Brak scraped some of the blood residue off the fabric of the shirt and placed it in a sterile microfuge tube. He placed the sample in a DNA specimen bag, sealed it, and labeled it with careful handwriting: "T.W. 12/9/41."

Figure 2. Image generated by Gemini.

His phone buzzed. A text from Marda: How are you doing?

He activated a full connection and saw Marda's face. She was obviously inside what was called the green room at Casanay; actually a suite of rooms that she had been offered the use of as a visiting guest. She commented, “Back in the lab already? It is the middle of the night.”

His sister meant well, but she would not understand why he was playing detective. Marda was getting absorbed into life at Casanay, doing her full-on fan-girl act with Eddy Watson. “I guess neither of us can sleep.”

“Do you want to talk?”

Brak had a million questions for Tyhry. “Marda, do me a favor. Try to preserve all of Tyhry's research. When I get my dissertation completed, I'll need to go over her data.”

“I suppose there should be some attempt to memorialize her life and work. The thought of such a dismal monument to her life makes me feel sick right now.”

Image generated by Gemini.

“Ya. Just don't let anyone throw away her research materials. Now, get some sleep and I'll call you tomorrow. We can help each-other deal with the loss.” He broke the connection.

No. That wasn't quite right. He hadn't lost Tyhry. He'd been given a puzzle. A scientific mystery wrapped in grief. And he was going to solve it.

He opened his laptop and composed an email to the Samples Intake Office at the UCLA Genomics Core Facility:

Dr. Cartwright,

I need a complete genome sequence, highest resolution available. The sample I will be dropping off at your office is human tissue, scrapped off of a dried fabric substrate and hopefully not contaminated with DNA from multiple people. Timeline: Like everyone else, I'd like the sequence data as fast as possible. Budget line: Put this on my NSF lab budget, but I'll cover any costs personally if that NSF account runs out.

Image generated by Gemini.

 The sample is from a test subject who I recently learned has unusual brain activity during sleep. I have to wonder if they have a mutation that gives them an unusual neural architecture. I'm investigating possible genetic underpinnings of this odd phenotype.

—Brak Onway

He re-read the note. It was similar to a dozen others he had sent as part of his thesis research, except for the type of sample. Brak hoped that Cartwright would guess that the DNA was Brak's own, under circumstances that Brak was embarrassed to explain. Brak attached the digital chain-of-custody form, hit send, and sat back.

Brak walked through the long corridors of the research complex and delivered the sample. Within a day—two at most—he'd have Tyhry's complete genome sequence. And then he'd have a chance to understand what made her brain different. What allowed her to display extraordinary brain activity during dream states. Could a gene mutation cause her to believe she could receive information from the future?

Brak thought about the brain scan data files that Tyhry had shown him in her basement workshop inside Casanay. The default mode network—active during rest and self-referential thought—and the task-positive network—active during goal-directed cognition—were supposed to be anti-correlated. When one activated, the other quieted. That was the normal pattern in human test subjects, under common laboratory conditions.

Image generated by Gemini.

But in Tyhry's sleep recordings, both networks blazed simultaneously. As if her brain had achieved a state that shouldn't be possible. Apparently the abnormal brain activity pattern allowed Tyhry to have a kind of conscious awareness during sleep that was different from what had been described for even the most advanced lucid dreaming practitioners.

Finally feeling some tiredness, Brak was returning home. "What were you, Tyhry?" Brak whispered, "What made you different?"

His phone buzzed again. Marda's text: Brak, I can't sleep. I can't write.

He typed back: We need time to process. I'll be working on my dissertation, but tell the Watsons I'll visit soon—I need to retrieve my luggage and some of Tyhry's research data. I will give you an arrival date when I submit the dissertation to my committee.

He hit send just as he entered his apartment.

Image generated by Gemini.

Then he got off his phone and opened a new document on his laptop. He began drafting a rather formal letter to the Watsons. It needed to sound grief-stricken but professional. Emotional but scientifically motivated. He had to make them want to help him.

Dear Eddy and Zeta,

I hope this letter finds you managing as well as can be expected during this terrible time. I want you to know that not a minute goes by when I don't think about Tyhry and the future we should have had together.

I'm writing because I need some time before I can return to Casanay. Being in that house without her is more painful than I can express. But I will return—I need to, both for closure and for my research.

When I do visit, I'd like to retrieve my luggage and personal items that I left in Tyhry's suite. I also request access to the brain activity data Tyhry showed me before the accident. She showed me her unusual lucid dreaming brain activity patterns and I believe that if I can understand Tyhry's special cognitive abilities then I might be able to attain some type of closure.

Image generated by Gemini.

 Keep my belongings at Casanay for now. I'll contact you when I am able to make my return to Arizona.

With deepest sympathy, Brak

He read it over three times, adjusted the tone, then sent it via email to Eddy's address that was listed on his author website.

The reply came within an hour:

Brak,

Take all the time you need. Your things will be here waiting. And yes, you're welcome to Tyhry's research data. She would have wanted her work to contribute to on-going work in science.

—Eddy

Brak closed his laptop and stared at the ceiling. He should sleep. He had a meeting with his dissertation advisor in the morning about scheduling his thesis defense. But sleep felt like surrender. Like admitting that Tyhry was really gone.

Instead, he methodically completed the last few annoying tasks for completion of his dissertation. He was simply done with that.

His thoughts were now occupied with a new obsession: that he would find the truth about Tyhry. Whatever it took.

---

Image generated by Gemini.

 Scene 2: The Discovery

UCLA Genomics Core Facility, December 11, 2041 (2:17 PM)

Dr. Betwe frowned at her computer screen, then looked up at Brak sitting across from her desk. "Thanks for coming to my office. I wanted to speak to you, not just drop the results on you. These sequencing results are... unusual."

"Unusual how?" Brak leaned forward, his exhaustion evident in the dark circles under his eyes.

"First of all, this is not your DNA. I checked and we already did your genome sequencing four years ago. You slipped this job into the queue without documenting the source of the DNA.”

“Sorry about that. It was too raw. My partner died in a car crash. This is her genome we're talking about.”

“I see. We'll need the sample donor form for our records, even if you have to lie and say that she gave consent for the sequencing before she died.” Dr. Betwe tried to see some visual indication that Brak would comply with the paper-work requirements. Brak nodded. Dr. Betwe continued, "Your sample quality was excellent considering the source: a busy accident scene with multiple people who could have contaminated the sample. We got a complete high-resolution genome sequence." She turned the monitor toward him.

Image generated by Gemini.

Dr. Betwe gestured towards the GL parameter. “In all my years looking at human genomes, that's the lowest GL statistic I've ever seen.” Brak was not really surprised. Tyhry had seemed practically perfect in every way. The GL parameter was generated by a genome-wide Loss-Of-Function Transcript Estimator and was typically close to a value of 60 for most people. Tyhry's GL was 3. "That crazy low GL is a publishable result, if the genome analysis had actually been authorized by the sample donor.” Dr. Betwe shook her head, knowing this amazing result could never be published. “There is one chromosomal region that caught my attention. The paired NBPF14 and NOTCH2NLB genes are highly unusual."

Brak's heart rate spiked. "What about them?"

"These genes are involved in cortical development and neuronal specification. They're part of what makes human brains human—they appeared relatively recently in evolution and are associated with cortical expansion." Dr. Betwe pulled up a detailed view. "Your subject has variants that were only reported in the literature once before."

Image generated by Gemini.

"Could they be sequencing errors?"

"The one related report in the literature shows that this NBPF14 variant is actually from a unique gene duplication event. And this rare NOTCH2NLB gene variant has a novel regulatory region that alters expression timing during development."

Brak stared at the screen, his mind racing. "How would these gene variants affect brain structure?"

"NOTCH2NL genes regulate the balance between neural progenitor proliferation and differentiation. A variant like this could lead to altered cortical architecture—possibly thicker cortex in specific regions, unusual connectivity patterns, differential hemispheric development..." Dr. Betwe paused. "May I ask what phenotype this individual exhibited?"

Image generated by Gemini.

"Unusual brain region activity synchronization patterns during sleep. She practiced for years and developed a capacity for extremely vivid lucid dreaming.” Brak stopped short of mentioning Tyhry's claim to have has visions of future events.

Dr. Betwe raised an eyebrow. "That's quite interesting and I can see how it relates to your own thesis research project." Dr. Betwe sighed. "You should read the one published article that describes a characterization of these gene variants using brain embroids."

Brak was already opening his laptop. "What's the PMC code?" Brak read the number off of Dr. Betwe 's screen. He opened the article that had been published just eight months ago in Developmental Neurobiology: "Novel NBPF14 and NOTCH2NLB Variants Produce Aberrant Cortical Architecture in Human Brain Embroids" by Systolina Kayto.

Brak's hands shook as he opened the PDF. The abstract described exactly the gene variants that existed in Tyhry's genome. The published journal article reported experiments using brain embroids—advanced organ cultures with artificial blood supply—to study how these variants affected neural development.

Figure 3. Image generated by Gemini.

The results section showed altered cortical layering, unusual dendrite morphology, and unusual synchronization between various brain regions observed when the spontaneous electrical activity of the embroids was recorded.

But what made Brak's breath catch was the acknowledgments section: "The author thanks her father, Thomas Kayto, for providing one of the DNA samples (TK). This research was privately funded by Thomas Kayto due to restrictions on government support for human embroid research."

Brak looked up at Dr. Betwe. "The author of the article has these same gene variants. She used her own DNA."

"That's ethically questionable but not unprecedented for self-experimentation," Dr. Betwe said.

Brak was forced to fill out the sample donor form before leaving Dr. Betwe's office. Brak wrote 'Tyhry Watson' on the form and Dr. Betwe watched while Brak forged Tyhry's signature on the form. Dr. Betwe took the completed form from Brak and growled, “Get out of here.” She stamped in big red block letters across the form: INFORMED CONSENT NOT DOCUMENTED.

Image generated by Gemini.

Once out of Dr. Betwe's office, Brak was already composing a message to be sent to Systolina Kayto's email address. The journal article showed that Systolina had an affiliation with the Stanford Department of Neural Development, listing her position as 'Staff Researcher', but the email address was for a private notchsk.org domain. Brak muttered to himself, "If she has the same genetic variants as my... as Tyhry... she might experience the same visions of the future."

Dr. Kayto,

I read your published article on NBPF14 and NOTCH2NLB variants with great interest. I'm a PhD candidate at UCLA studying sleep neurophysiology, and I have a colleague with the exact same NBPF14 and NOTCH2NLB gene variants that you have.

I've seen data from my colleague exhibiting remarkable brain activity patterns during lucid dreaming—simultaneous activation of typically anti-correlated neural networks. I'm wondering if you've experimented on your own brain? If not, I could collect from you the type of data that I've seen for my colleague.

I'd very much like to discuss your research and potentially collaborate. Would you be available for a video call?

Image generated by Gemini.

 Best regards, Brak Onway PhD Candidate, Department of Neuroscience, UCLA

He hit send before he could second-guess himself.

The reply came within two hours:

Brak,

Thank you for contacting me.

Can you video call tonight at 8 PM Pacific?

—Systolina

Brak stared at the email, reading it three times. She was intrigued. Two individuals, same rare gene variants. He realized that they both needed to understand this. Maybe Systolina Kayto held the key to understanding what Tyhry had been. He accepted the 8 PM appointment time. 8 PM Pacific time could not arrive fast enough for Brak.

---

Scene 3: Soul Mate Recognition

Video Call, December 11, 2041 (8:03 PM)

Image generated by Gemini.

The video call connected, and Brak found himself looking at a young woman with dark eyes and long black hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. She wore a fuzzy sweatshirt and sat in what appeared to be a home office, shelves of biology textbooks visible behind her.

"Brak," she said, and her smile was immediate, warm, certain. "Don't let me freak you out: I'm not insane. I have to tell you everything. I recognize you from my dream visions."

Brak felt his carefully prepared scientific questions evaporate. "You... see the future in your dreams?"

"Fragments. Possibilities. It's not like watching a movie—it's more like receiving compressed information packages during REM sleep. My conscious mind can interpret them as visual sequences, but the actual data is more abstract." She leaned closer to her camera. "And for years, I've been seeing a man with your appearance. I knew you were important, but I did not have your name. I knew you'd arrive in my life... eventually."

"That's..." Brak struggled for words. "I can't say I'm surprised."

Systolina demanded, “Who is your mysterious 'colleague'”?

“Her name was Tyhry Watson.” Brak paused. “She told me that she could see the future." He thought about Tyhry's premonition of a car accident on a mountain road.

“Fascinating! Tell me about this simultaneous activation of the default mode network and task-positive network... how did your colleague... how did Tyhry achieve it?"

Brak told Systolina what he knew about Tyhry's lucid dreaming experiment. Then he asked Systolina, "Your paper said that you sequenced your father's DNA. He shares the unusual NOTCH gene. Does he have the ability to see the future?"

Image generated by Gemini.

"My father has a different manifestation. He has what he calls 'special insights' into the behavior of people he loves. He developed a telepathic connection with my mother—could sense her emotions, sometimes her surface thoughts. After she died when I was seven, he tuned that telepathic connection to me. He knows when I'm lying, when I'm scared, when I need help"

"Telepathy." Brak heard how skeptical he sounded.

"I know how it sounds. But my father has the NOTCH2NLB variant, what I named NOTCH2NLBsk—before I discovered that I inherited it from him. I got my NBPF14 variant from my mother. The combination of both variants seems to produce the future vision effect." She pulled up a document on her screen. "I've been mapping my own brain structure using fMRI and tractography. Want to see something amazing?"

She shared her screen. Brak examined the data that Systolina was sharing with him. Unusual cortical thickness in the posterior parietal regions. Bulked up fiber tracts and enhanced connectivity between the temporal lobes and prefrontal cortex. Related but distinct patterns in left and right hemispheres.

"Your colleague had these patterns?" Systolina asked.

"I don't know. I doubt if Tyhry had these kind of high-resolution scans performed on her brain."

Systolina with a brain embroid.
Image generated by Leonardo.

They spent the next hour sharing observations and past experiences, formulating a list of new data elements that they could collect. Systolina described her embroid experiments, how the variant genes altered neural development in amazing ways. Brak described Tyhry's lucid dreaming training.

Systolina had searched for the name “Tyhry Watson”. There was only one in the whole world. She hesitated then she asked Brak, "Have you read Eddy Watson's novels?"

Brak blinked at the sudden topic shift. "Tyhry's father? No, I haven't. Why?"

"He writes about alien intelligences watching over human development. Guiding evolution. Intervening in subtle ways." Systolina's expression was thoughtful. "What if these gene variants didn't arise naturally? What if they were engineered?"

"That's conspiracy theory territory."

"So is the idea of receiving information from the future and having a dad with telepathic powers." Systolina smiled. "I'm not saying I believe in aliens. I'm saying we should consider all possibilities. Including the ones that sound crazy. I've tested my dad's telepathic ability. There is no way to block it. It can't be using a conventional electromagnetic signal."

Brak found himself smiling back. There was something about Systolina's directness, her willingness to engage with the impossible, that reminded him of Tyhry's fearless trail-blazer instinct. But where Tyhry had been secretive and cautious at Casanay, Systolina was open and eager to share her experiences.

"I need to visit you," he said. "See your lab, meet your father, collect data from you while you sleep. Would that be possible?"

"I was hoping you'd ask. Would you mind if dad and I come to California? We'd love to do some winter golfing."

Image generated by Gemini.

"Before the holidays?"

"We could be there tomorrow." Her smile widened. "Brak, I know this is going to sound strange, but... I feel like I've known you for years. Like we're meant to work together on this."

"Soul mates?" The word came out more skeptical than he intended.

But Systolina didn't seem offended. "Something like that."

Brak thought about Tyhry, about the love they'd shared, about the future they'd lost. Then he looked at Systolina's face on his screen—open, intelligent, certain of her purpose.

"I only have one thing on my to do list," he said quietly. "I meet with my research supervisor at 10 AM."

“I just booked us on flight that will arrive at LAX at 4 PM.”

They talked for another two hours, planning experiments, discussing theories, building the foundation of a collaboration that felt both brand new and somehow inevitable.

When they finally ended the call, Brak sat in the darkness of his apartment, thinking about gene variants and dream visions and the possibility that Tyhry's death might not be the end of a journey. It might just be a new beginning.

---

Scene 4: Meeting Thomas

Dinner at Hansen Dam Golf Course Restaurant, December 12, 2041 (6:15 PM)

Soul mates. Image generated by ImageFX.

Brak picked up Systolina and her father at LAX, checked them into a hotel and took them to dinner.

When they met at the baggage claim in the airport, Systolina hugged Brak, briefly but warmly. "When is your thesis defense going to take place?"

“February 10th.”

While they ate, Systolina used her phone to show Brak her embroid cultures—amazingly large brain-like structures floating in nutrient medium, supported by artificial blood vessel networks. She showed Brak images of her electrophysiology setup which had generated data documenting how the NBPF14/NOTCH2NLB variants led to the development of embroids with altered neural development and strange patterns of spontaneous electrical activity.

Image by Grok.

"This is remarkable work," Brak said, genuinely impressed. "It is too bad this can't all be government-funded."

"Ethics committees won't approve research on human brain embroids. They argue it's possible that embroids develop consciousness in the lab." She shrugged. "My father funds everything. He made his money in biotech patents. Once I explained that I wanted to understand my own brain, he became my primary investor."

Thomas Kayto was in his early fifties, with the same dark eyes as his daughter and an air of quiet intensity. In the airport, he had shaken Brak's hand firmly. Now he looked up from his plate and nodded at Brak. "Mr. Onway, what are the chances of two people having these same rare paired gene variants?"

"Zero," Brak said carefully. "The Kaytos and the Watsons are two genetically isolated families. However, the sequencing data don't lie. Tyhry had the exact same NBPF14 and NOTCH2NLB variants that your daughter has. But it is impossible. Nobody else in the world has been found with either of these two gene variants."

"Had?" Thomas picked up on the past tense.

"Tyhry died in a car accident."

Thomas's expression softened with genuine sympathy. "I'm sorry. I'm guessing that you were close to her."

"We lived together for a year. You could say I'm obsessed with Tyhry and understanding what made her special—understanding these genetic variants and their effects— feels important. By figuring out this genetic puzzle I imagine I'm honoring her memory."

Thomas nodded slowly, then glanced at his daughter. "Should I tell him?"

Image generated by ImageFX.

"About your telepathy?" Systolina smiled. "I already did. Don't count on me to keep your secrets."

"Brak needs to know everything." Thomas looked simultaneously relieved and nervous. "I have what I can only describe as telepathic abilities, though they're limited to a very small group: people I love deeply. I could sense my wife's emotions, sometimes her thoughts. Now I can sense Systolina's."

Brak studied the older man. "You keep your telepathy secret?”

Thomas described his participating in a psychology experiment in college. Testing for psychic abilities in students. Thomas laughed ruefully. "I failed spectacularly. Could demonstrate nothing with strangers in a lab setting. For years I've thought that there is no way to tell people about my telepathy unless I wanted them to think I was delusional. But after Systolina sequenced our genomes and we started correlating my telepathic experiences with her visions of the future... it became more interesting. And now with the Tyhry data point..." Thomas paused but looked intrigued.

Telepathy test. Image generated by ImageFX.

"How does it work? The telepathy?"

"I don't know the mechanism. But I can learn to pick up on impressions—emotions, fragments of thought, general mental states. It's not like reading a book. More like sensing the emotional weather of their mind." He paused. "When my wife was dying, I could feel her pain, her fear, her love. I wouldn't wish that experience on anyone, but I'm grateful I could share those final months with her in that deep way."

Brak felt something shift in his chest. He thought about Tyhry's final moments, about not being able to reach her after the crash. "I wish I'd had that gift. With Tyhry."

"Perhaps you did, in your own way," Thomas said gently. "Love is a kind of telepathy even without special genetics. You knew her mind, her dreams, her fears. That connection doesn't end just because the physical body does."

A NOTCH brain mutant.
Image generated by Leonardo.

Systolina touched Brak's arm. "Dad's funding my research because we want to understand our special cognitive abilities. Document them scientifically."

"There might be a family history," Brak said. "These variants had to come from somewhere. Were your parents' genomes unusual? Any family history of psychic phenomena?"

Thomas shook his head. "Not that I know of. My parents were ordinary people. My mother never mentioned anything unusual, and she died when I was twenty. My father is still alive but shows no signs of telepathy. It's as if the variant appeared spontaneously in my generation."

"And your wife's family?" Brak asked.

"My mother's family history is sparse. She was adopted, never knew her biological parents." Systolina pulled up a file on her computer. "I've tried tracing the genetic lineages, but the trail goes cold quickly. As far as I can tell, these variants appeared recently in the human population."

"Recent mutations in two genes... randomly, in two families?" Brak asked.

"Possibly. Or..." Systolina hesitated. "There's another explanation."

"Genetic engineering," Brak said. "The conspiracy theory angle."

Image generated by ImageFX.

"It's not as crazy as it sounds," Thomas interjected. "Systolina showed me Eddy Watson's novels—the Usas Series. He describes alien intelligences that have been guiding human evolution for millions of years. Subtly altering our genetics to enhance certain cognitive abilities."

"That's fiction," Brak said.

"Is it?" Thomas's expression was thoughtful. "Watson's novels predicted the discovery of the Denisovans years before archaeologists found evidence. His descriptions of Neanderthal culture have been confirmed by subsequent research. Either he's remarkably lucky, or he has access to information he shouldn't have."

Brak felt uncomfortable with where this was heading. "You're suggesting aliens gave you telepathy and your daughter the ability to see the future?"

Image generated by ImageFX.

"I'm suggesting we keep an open mind about the origins of these variants," Thomas said. "And I'll suggest that we investigate the Watson family. Tyhry's parents might have useful information—if these variants were in other members of the Watson family we need to know that."

Brak said, “I have to train a new graduate student to take over some of my work in the lab, so I'm trapped here in L.A. Until the holidays. I'm thinking that I'll get back to Arizona early in January.

Systolina pulled up her calendar. "I'd love to go along. Dad and I can spend the rest of this month golfing and you could collect my brain activity data using your sleep lab equipment. Then in January dad can return to the great white north and we can go to Arizona."

Brak thought about Eddy and Zeta, about returning to the place where he'd last seen Tyhry alive. It would be painful. Maybe Systolina's presence would make it easier. Having a scientific purpose gave a steadying structure to the visit, theoretically.

"Alright," he said. "Let's plan to visit the Watsons on January 5th. I'll email the Watsons tonight and see if that meshes with their plans."

---

Image generated by Gemini.

 Scene 5: Return to Casanay

Casanay, Arizona, January 5, 2042 (2:47 PM)

The rental car crunched up the gravel driveway. Brak felt his chest tighten as Casanay came into view—the sprawling desert home he'd experienced three weeks previously, though it felt like a lifetime.

Systolina was driving. "I've seen this before, in my dreams. The windows, the way the house sits in the landscape."

Image generated by Gemini.

"What happens next?"

"I only get fragments from the future. Never the whole picture, but in this case, enough to recognize this place." She parked in the pave loop in front of the house and touched Brak's hand. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know."

The front door opened soon after they parked. Eddy emerged, followed by Marda.

Brak got out slowly. Eddy crossed to him, and for a moment they looked at each-other, two men who'd both loved Tyhry, both lost her.

"It's good to see you," Eddy said finally, pulling Brak into an embrace.

Image generated by Gemini.

"You too." Brak stepped back. "This is Dr. Systolina Kayto. She's a neurobiology researcher. We're collaborating on understanding Tyhry's unusual brain."

Systolina shook Eddy's hand, then Marda's. "Thank you for allowing us to visit. I know it must be difficult having us dig into Tyhry's research."

"Come inside," Marda said. "Zeta's in the kitchen with Anthony. They've been preparing for your arrival." She took the car key out of Systolina's hand. “I'll park your car in the garage. Bay 6.”

Brak led Systolina inside. The interior of Casanay was achingly familiar. The awesome high ceilings, the massive fireplace, the same portrait of young Tyhry that Brak had discovered on his first visit. But now there was an emptiness, a sense of absence that made his throat tighten.

Image generated by Gemini.

Zeta emerged from the kitchen, moving with her characteristic grace. She looked different somehow—not aged, but changed in a way Brak couldn't quite identify.

"Brak." She embraced him warmly. "I'm so glad you came back."

"Thank you for agreeing to help with the research." He gestured to Systolina. "This is Dr. Systolina Kayto."

Zeta's eyes locked on Systolina with sudden intensity. "Your father funds your research?"

"Yes. Do you know him?"

"No, but Brak mentioned in an email that he had met your father."

Marda and D2 arrived from the garage carrying Systolina's two big suitcases. Zeta said, “Systolina, D2 will put your things in the blue room. Brak, you can use Tyhry's room.”

Anthony appeared from the kitchen carrying a tray of coffee and cookies. "Welcome back, Brak. And welcome to Casanay, Dr. Kayto."

“Please, everyone, call me Sysy”.

They settled in the great room, the conversation flowing with careful politeness as they discussed the drive, the weather, Marda's class work for the new semester. But Brak could feel undercurrents— Eddy's watchful attention to every movement of Systolina as if he was comparing her to his memories of Tyhry.

Finally, Brak cleared his throat. "I know this is difficult, but I need to be direct about why we're here. I have three requests, and I understand if you want to say no to any of them."

"Go ahead," Eddy said.

Image generated by Gemini.

"First, I'd like access to all the brain activity data Tyhry collected on herself. Her lucid dreaming recordings, the EEG and fMRI data she showed me. Second, I want to collect brain activity data from Sysy using Tyhry's equipment." Brak pulled out his tablet. "We are interested in the fact that Tyhry's genome included two extremely rare genetic variants—NBPF14 and NOTCH2NLB alleles. Sysy has the same variants, and we're trying to understand how they affect brain structure and function."

Zeta leaned forward and asked Systolina, "You got your NOTCH gene varian from your father?"

"Yes."

"I see," Zeta said slowly. "Tyhry got her NOTCH2NLB allele from me."

Brak asked, “You had Tyhry's genome analyzed? And your own?”

“No.”

Brak wanted to ask the source of Zeta's gene sequence data, but Zeta continued, “I wonder if your father has any unusual abilities.”

Systolina giggled. She told Zeta, “Last week he played 18 holes at five under par.”

Eddy said, If we are going to truly honor Tyhry's memory, then let's not play games. The fact is, Zeta can telepathically access my thoughts. What Zeta is asking is if your father has a similar ability.”

Image generated by Gemini.

Systolina nodded. “Until recently, I was the only one who knew. Daddy can follow my thoughts."

"That's reasonable," Eddy said. "Two people with the same NOTCH gene variant and the same mysterious ability to detect another person's brain activity. Zeta can monitor my thoughts. But what does a specific NOTCH gene have to do with mind reading?"

"I have a third request." Brak paused. "I'd like DNA samples from both of you. Saliva swabs would be sufficient. You seem to already know that Zeta and Tyhry had the same NOTCH gene as does Sysy, but I want to see if there are any wider matches in your genomes. We are on the trail of two paired genes, NBPF14 and NOTCH2NLB, and I need to know if Tyhry inherited these alleles from just one of you or from both of you."

Zeta and Eddy exchanged a look. Something passed between them, some unspoken communication that made the back of Brak's neck tingle.

"We'll provide samples," Zeta said. "But on one condition."

"What condition?"

Image generated by Gemini.

"Whatever you discover—about the genetic variants—you keep it confidential. Just the people in this room." Zeta's expression was serious. "Telepathy is not something that the world is ready to have thrust down its throat. If word got out that people could read minds or perceive future events, it would cause trouble. Exploitation. Persecution."

Brak nodded slowly. "I understand. We're not planning to publish until we have a complete understanding. For now, this is exploratory research."

"Good." Zeta smiled. "Then you have our cooperation."

Marda spoke up. "I've long suspected that something strange was going on here at Casanay, but this telepathy business... I'm astounded! Can I ask something? This telepathy thing—Systolina... Sysy, your father can actually read your mind?"

"It's more limited than that," Systolina explained. "He can sense my emotional state, sometimes get impressions of my thoughts. But it only works with people he loves. With strangers, nothing."

Marda's eyes lit up. "That's fascinating. I'm working on a novel with Eddy right now—a continuation of our 'Volunteer' story about alien devices in human brains. I want to include something about human telepathy. Would you mind if I interviewed you about your father's abilities? For research purposes?"

"I don't mind," Systolina said. "Though you should probably interview him directly."

"I'd love that. This could add a whole new dimension to my story."

Eddy cleared his throat. "Before we get too deep into the science and the fiction, why don't we let Brak and Systolina get settled? Brak, Tyhry's room still has your suit cases. Sysy, we've prepared the blue room for you."

Image generated by Gemini.

"Actually," Brak said, "while Sysy unpacks, I'd like to go down to the basement, to see Tyhry's workshop. I want to inventory what equipment is available for our experiments."

"Of course." Eddy stood. "I'll take you down."

The two men descended the basement stairs. The workshop looked different than Brak remembered. Cleaner, more organized, as if someone had been maintaining it carefully.

D2 came down the stairs. "Hello, Brak. Welcome to the former CoArtTel research laboratory."

Brak asked the robot, "You are called D2?"

"Diasma was the original D1," Eddy said smoothly. "D2 is a newer model."

Image generated by Gemini.

Brak nodded. He was focused on the present and did not want to think about driving D to Phoenix. "Okay. Show me Tyhry's research data."

The OMNI41 supercomputer still hummed quietly. D2 moved to the computer workstation on the bench where Tyhry had shown Brak her impossible brain data. The robot's fingers danced across the keyboard with fluidity. "I believe I can find all of Tyhry's brain activity recordings. Everything is accessible here."

While D2 worked the file system, Brak pulled open the drawer where he had once seen Tyhry place a mysterious object. Inside, nestled among cables and tools, was an object that looked like a modified remote control. Sleek, organic-looking, with a crystalline structure at one end that refracted light in strange colors.

Image generated by Gemini.

"What's this?" Brak picked it up.

Eddy's voice was sharp. "Don't touch that!"

But it was too late. Brak was already examining the device, his fingers finding natural positions on its grip as if it had been designed for his hand. "It's some kind of specialized tool. Did Tyhry build this?"

D2 crossed the room quickly. "That's an equipment calibration probe for the super-computer. Very delicate. Please put it back."

"A calibration probe?" Brak turned it over, studying the crystalline emitter. "I've never seen anything like this. The engineering is remarkable."

He pointed it at his own head, mimicking a doctor using a medical scanner. "How does it—"

The probe activated.

Later, Brak was never be able to explain what happened next. His consciousness shifted from absolute clarity to complete confusion. His femtozoan's connection to his femtobot endosymbiont was briefly disrupted, and for three seconds Brak experienced the world as a non-human animal might—stripped of the rich qualia and linguistic processing that defined human consciousness. His mental model of the world collapsed and constricted.

He slumped against the workbench, the probe falling from his hand.

D2 caught him as he started to slide to the floor.

The femtozoan re-established connection. Thought and language and self-awareness came flooding back. Brak gasped.

Image generated by Gemini.

Eddy had snatched up the probe and took it to the supply closet.

Brak managed to stand, pulling clear of the robot's grasping hands, though his legs felt weak. "That felt like... an absence seizure."

D2 asked, "Are you experiencing any stroke symptoms? Headache, nausea, visual disturbances?"

Brak tested his balance, his coordination. Everything seemed normal now. "No, I think I'm okay. Just... startled."

But as they continued their work—D2 showing Brak how to access Tyhry's data files, Eddy returned from the closet and carefully watched Brak. Having called for openness, there were some things that Eddy, under the influence of his infites, could not let Brak and Systolina become aware of. Pieces of alien technology were on that list. With luck, Brak had just erased his memories of the probe.

---

Scene 6: The Telepath's Revelation

Casanay, January 5, 2042 (7:23 PM)

Dinner was a surprisingly pleasant affair. Anthony had prepared his signature blue corn enchiladas, and the conversation flowed easily among the group. Systolina amazed everyone with stories about her embroid research and again passed around her phone so that they could all see images of the cultured brain tissue. Systolina proclaimed, “That's a copy of my brain, grown from my stem cells.” Marda enthusiastically described plot points for the telepathy novel she was planning. Brak found himself relaxing and thinking about sleep after a long day of travel and plowing into Tyhry's data files.

But Eddy and Zeta were mostly quiet, both watching Systolina with an intensity that bordered on hunger.

After dinner, as Brak and Systolina were preparing Tyhry's recording equipment for Systolina's use during sleep, Zeta arrived in the blue room and pulled Systolina aside.

"Can we talk? Privately?"

Systolina glanced at Brak, who shrugged. "Sure."

Zeta led Systolina to the master bedroom suite, closing the door behind them. The room was spacious, with large windows overlooking the dark desert and a comfortable sitting area.

"Is something wrong?" Systolina asked.

"No. Something's right." Zeta sat on the edge of the bed, gesturing for Systolina to take the armchair. "You said your father has telepathic abilities. That he can sense your thoughts when you're close."

"Yes. Why?"

"I have the same ability." Zeta's voice was calm, matter-of-fact. "I can sense my husband's thoughts. Not all the time, not with perfect clarity, but I've been learning his mind pattern for decades, so I know what he's feeling."

Systolina leaned forward. "You're a telepath... is that how you know the gene sequences that you shared with your daughter? how—"

"I won't tell you how I know that. And I'll warn you: there are other things that Eddy won't tell you. In my case, I'm afraid that I'd become some kind of laboratory subject if the world knew I had telepathic abilities." Zeta paused. "I suppose your father feels exactly the same way."

Zeta stood, pacing. "And there's something I need to tell you about Eddy, something that he can't tell you."

"What about him?"

"He's not just a science fiction writer. He has access to information he shouldn't have. The way he predicted the Denisovans, the accuracy of his cultural descriptions—it's not luck or good research. He has a secret source of information. Something that lets him see the past with great accuracy."

Systolina felt a chill. "You think he has special cognitive abilities too? I get visions of the future. Does Eddy see the past?"

Zeta met Systolina's eyes. "Your visions of the future. My telepathic contact with Eddy. Your father's telepathic contact with you. Eddy's access to historical information. Tyhry's impossible brain activity patterns. These aren't random occurrences. They're connected."

"But how?"

"There is that delicate balance. I don't want this to turn into a circus. I want to live out my life in peace with Eddy. I worry that you want something else, maybe fame and notoriety."

"I understand your desire for secrecy. However, we can't let that get in the way of understanding this puzzle of the NBPF14 and NOTCH2NLB gene pair that I share with your daughter."

Zeta touched Systolina's hand. "You need to understand these special cognitive abilities before you reveal them, before you try to publish articles about them. You need to protect the people who have them."

Systolina thought about her father, about the years he'd kept his telepathy secret out of fear of being labeled crazy. About her own reluctance to discuss her future visions with colleagues. "I understand," she said. "Brak and I will keep the information contained to just the people at Casanay."

"And your father?"

"My father already knows about keeping secrets. He's been funding my research privately for years to avoid ethical scrutiny." Systolina paused. "Zeta, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"In your telepathy with Eddy—can you control it? Turn it on and off? Or is it always there?"

"It's always there when we're physically close. Background awareness of his emotional state. But I can focus on it, try to read deeper, if I choose to. An emotional response in Eddy can attract my attention and then I can do the work of digging into his thoughts. And sometimes, when his emotions are very strong, his thoughts come through clearly without me trying." Zeta smiled.

"If having that telepathic ability is a trial, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's a gift. Anyhow, you have been warned. There are very real barriers to what Eddy and I can tell you." Zeta stood. "Come on. Let's get you set up for the sleep recordings. I want to know if your brain activity matches Tyhry's. She did lucid dream training for years, so I'm guessing you wont produce data that matches that from Tyhry."

They returned to find Brak testing the EEG equipment on himself. "Everything okay?" Brak asked.

"Fine," Systolina said. "Zeta and I were just getting to know each other."

And as Systolina prepared to sleep, she couldn't help but wonder: what would happen if the world learned the truth?

---

Scene 7: The Endless Debate

Hierion Domain, Observer Base, January 6, 2042 (3:17 AM Earth time)

Nyrtia manifested in her preferred form—efficient, humanoid, clearly artificial. She stood inside her Observation chamber, reviewing data streams from Casanay. Around her, data displays showed brain activity recordings, genetic sequences, and behavioral analyses.

Manny appeared beside her, favoring her usual beautiful human female form with impossible golden hair. "You called?"

"I'm monitoring the situation at Casanay." Nyrtia gestured at the displays. "It's escalating beyond the parameters we agreed on."

"Escalating? Or developing naturally?" Manny studied the data. "Brak Onway discovering Tyhry's genetic variants, finding Systolina Kayto, connecting the dots about telepathy and future-sight—that's all logical progression. We are evolving humans on the conventional Hua trajectory that leads to these abilities. Eventually the Earthlings are going to notice."

"Eventually, yes. But under controlled conditions. With proper preparation." Nyrtia pulled up a display showing the genetic lineages. "You seeded the NBPF14 and NOTCH2NLB variants into multiple human bloodlines decades ago. The Kayto family, The Watson family; now they collided. You knew this moment would come. You engineered it."

"I wanted Brak to have a meaningful life after the loss of Tyhry. Brak decided to go get Sysy." Manny's smile was innocent. "That's self-determination, Nyrtia. I gave them an opportunity. They're choosing to use that opportunity. It is a fun adventure for them, trying to solve the NBPF14 and NOTCH2NLB puzzle. Of course, they have no hope of even imaging the zeptites that are inside them."

"That's sophistry. You knew Brak would sequence Tyhry's genome. You knew he'd find Systolina. You probably arranged for them to develop romantic feelings for each other to ensure they'd collaborate. And Eddy has been telling stories about zeptites for decades."

"Nobody believes that zeptites are real. Isn't it sweet that Brak is forgetting about his love for Tyhry and moving on to thinking about jumping Sysy's hot bod? I may have deployed a few infites to smooth their initial connection," Manny admitted. "But the rest is genuine human curiosity and attraction. Brak is naturally drawn to scientific mysteries. Systolina has been dreaming about her future collaborator for years. It is a fairy-tale outcome for the happy couple."

Nyrtia's form pulsed with frustration. "And the probe incident? Brak nearly discovered the existence of femtozoans when he disrupted his own femtozoan's connection to his femtobot endosymbiont. That's a direct violation of the containment protocols you and I agreed to for the Casanay Intervention."

"But he didn't discover that femtozoans exist. Eddy recovered the probe and moved it to a new hiding place. As far as Brak knows, he experienced electromagnetic interference with his nervous system. Nothing more." Manny studied a replay of the incident. "Though I'll admit, that was closer than I'd like. Maybe I should move the hierion probe to a more secure location."

"You should destroy the probe. We should end this experiment," Nyrtia said firmly. "Extract Brak and Systolina from Earth, convert them to femtobot replicoids at Observer Base, and close the Casanay operation entirely."

"You can't be serious."

"I'm absolutely serious. We now have two more scientists at Casanay who know about telepathy and future-sight. They're actively researching the genetic basis of these abilities. How long before they publish? How long before the broader scientific community learns that human cognitive abilities can exceed normal parameters?" Nyrtia pulled up projections. "My simulations show a seventy-three percent chance of uncontrolled information cascade within six months if we don't intervene."

"Your simulations are overly pessimistic." Manny dismissed the projections with a wave. "Zeta, Eddy, and D2 understand the need for secrecy. They'll ensure Brak and Systolina keep quiet. And remember—Brak and Systolina don't believe in space aliens. They think they're discovering natural human gene variants. As long as they continue to believe that, Law One is satisfied."

"Law One requires humans to believe they have self-determination. But these humans are being guided toward specific discoveries by your infites, by the dream visions you're feeding Systolina, by the genetic engineering you performed on their ancestors." Nyrtia's voice carried an edge. "At what point does guidance become control? At what point does influence become violation?"

Manny was quiet for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was serious. "Nyrtia, we've been having this same argument for billions of years. Sure, life would be easier for the pek if there were a Rule demanding absolute non-intervention. We bumpha simply want to spice Earth up with a bit of active guidance. The Huaoshy created both the pek and the bumpha because the path to a good future for these primates lies somewhere in between the pek way and the bumpha way."

"Your Philosophy 101 lecture doesn't answer my question."

"Then let me answer practically. Our long-range goal for humans is to give them all telepathic abilities: the standard path to eventual post-biological transcendence into the Sedron Domain. We start by connect them through their zeptite endosymbionts into a kind of shared consciousness that will make war and conflict and misunderstanding obsolete. That's not control—that's evolution."

"Directed evolution. By alien intelligence."

"Better than extinction." Manny's eyes blazed. "You've seen the Extinction Curve. You know what happens to species that develop advanced technology without guidance. They destroy themselves. Every time. The only species that survive are the ones we help."

"Or the ones that never needed help in the first place."

"The Hua were unique... they made it through the great filter on their own. Every other successful species has been guided."

Nyrtia couldn't argue with the data. The historical record was clear. "What do you want from me, Manny?"

"Let this experiment continue. Keep monitoring Casanay, maintain your firewall, but let Brak and Systolina pursue their research." Manny's tone became persuasive. "We get to observe how humans react to learning about their enhanced cognitive potential. This is a controlled test case. A small group in an isolated location. If it goes wrong, we can contain it. But if it goes right—if they handle the knowledge responsibly—it gives us data for rolling out similar revelations globally."

"You're asking me to trust your judgment."

"I'm asking you to trust the process. I don't really expect anything to come of this, except the reward that I owe Brak for taking away Tyhry. Let this play out."

Nyrtia ran new simulations, incorporating Manny's arguments. The results were... ambiguous. There were paths to success and paths to disaster, with probabilities balanced on knife's edge.

"I'll allow the experiment to continue," Nyrtia said finally. "But under strict conditions. The firewall must be perfect—no information about telepathy or future-sight goes beyond the Watson, Kayto and Onway family members. And Brak and Systolina must continue to believe these are natural human abilities. The moment they start suspecting alien intervention, I activate extraction protocols. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"And Manny?" Nyrtia's form solidified. "If this goes wrong, if humans learn about the pek and bumpha before they're ready, the consequences will be on you. Not just for this intervention, but for the entire human species. The Huaoshy will hold you accountable."

"I understand." Manny's smile returned. "But it won't go wrong. Trust me."

Nyrtia watched the bumpha slip back into the Sedron Domain, then returned her attention to the data streams from Casanay. On the displays, she could see Systolina sleeping in the basement workshop, her brain showing unusual activity patterns, but without any amplification from the Sedruth entity. Brak sat nearby, having fallen asleep watching Systolina sleep.

And in the great room, Marda wrote furiously, crafting a story about humans with telepathy, never knowing that she was writing truth disguised as fiction.

The Casanay experiment was entering a new phase.

And Nyrtia could only wait and see if Manny's confidence in containment was justified. The cost of Manny's kindness to Brak was discomfort and worry for Nyrtia.

---

END CHAPTER 7

Image generated by Gemini.

I had Gemini make some storybook illustrations for Chapter 7. As shown in Figure 1, above on this page, Gemini loves to show on the backs of computers what is on their display screens. The image shown in Figure 2 was wrong in many ways. Brak was placed inside the hood and the work surface of the hood bisected his body. The bloody cloth is absurd. Supposedly Brak wore the shirt to L.A. on an airplane, but I suppose Gemini can't control itself.

The image that is shown to the right ↗ on this page was the strangest one made by Gemini for Scene 1 of Chapter 7. I can't imagine why Brak is wearing a mask.

Image generated by Gemini.

Some of the images that Gemini generated for Chapter 7 Scene 2 were strange in that they included robots. The image shown in Figure 3 has a robot's head laying on the table. I suppose humanoid robots will be ubiquitous in 2041, but there is no mention of robots in Scene 2. When asking Gemini to generate these images, I provided two files, one of which was the glossary for "The Sims" which did mention robots. Gemini must have tried to fit information from the glossary into Scene 2. The last page of the storybook included: "He sat in the darkness, looking at the dormant chassis of a robot in the corner of his room." The image for that storybook page is shown to the left. That robot does not look 'dormant'.

Next: Plans for Chapter 8 of "The Sims".