In the lair of the seahorse

Posted on Wed 31st Aug, 2022 @ 11:30pm by Commander Mikaela Locke

715 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: The Hunted
Location: Starbase 109, Primary Sickbay
Timeline: MD 03, 10:00

"Lie back," Doctor Addams instructed the station's executive officer, "and think of England."

Mikaela Locke arched an eyebrow. “Why am I thinking of England?” she asked, somewhat bemused.

"Memory and imagination," Addams responded, tapping a control. "We're looking to see what parts of your brain respond, and which do not. Now; less questions and more thinking of round tables and questors."

Mikaela chuckled to herself, as she relaxed her head on the table. In truth, she had very little idea either what England was like in the past, or what it was like in the present. Her ex, Jason, was born in England, but they had never been while they were together. They had talked about his home on a number of occasions, but, ultimately, it sounded a lot like where she grew up. With little other frame of reference, Mikaela closed her eyes and recalled Jason's description - mixed a little with some of her own memories of home. None of those memories included round tables or questors, but she presumed that was hyperbole on Addams' part, rather than a specific request.

Addams examined blood and electrolyte flows, neurotransmitter transport, and other factors. "Hmm," she hummed. "Alright; thank you, that will do." She reached out and turned off the sensors. "How much do you know about the formation of memories, Commander?"

"As far as I understand," Locke replied, :sensory information is translated to patterns of neuronal communication, routed through the prefrontal cortex and the hippocampus, creating stable and more permanent changes in the widespread neural connections throughout the brain... Or something like that."

"A reasonable first order approximation," Addams agreed. "Your brain makes a sort of holographic record of the pattern of activity which occurs during an event, and then recreates that activity when you wish to remember the event. The hippocampus, which is Long Forgotten Language for 'seahorse,' by the bye, mediates this recording. What's happening to you is that the myelin... the 'insulation' if you will... around your central nervous system is increasing in thickness, causing fainter images and uncertain playback. The current levels are well within Human norms. What I can not tell you is the cause in the increase in sheathing, nor the rate of it."

"In simple terms, then," Mikaela processed out loud, "I'm losing my memory, but it may or may not extend beyond what would be considered normal for a human."

"Indeed," Addams responded. "'Normal,' of course, is a slippery word. Memory conversion, retention, and retrieval is a spectrum. And as with many biological processes, that ability is present within different individuals and at different times in the same individual, at different levels. The level you're currently displaying is within the same statistical limits as the majority of individuals of your age, gender, and species. It's a change for you, yes. It may be pathological in origin. But I see no known vectors of such pathology. It may be a response to some trauma. Or it may simply be a change in your biology due to age, hormonal status, or other naturally occurring event."

Mikaela reflected on the doctor's words for a few moments. "I'm not sure if that's a comfort or not," she finally concluded.

Addams sighed. "People want certainty from their physician, and most often, I can provide it. 'Why yes, that mole does look concerning, let me whip it off,' or 'no, don't be silly, you're not growing an extra nose.' Sometimes, though, all we can do is keep an eye on things and see how they develop."

Mikaela took a deep breath in and then slowly exhaled. Nodding her head, almost absent-mindedly, as she processed the doctor’s words. “Okay,” she finally said, slightly less convincingly than she had intended, “let’s wait and see what develops.” She got down off the bio-bed, straightened her uniform jacket and pulled her ponytail tight. “Thank you, doctor,” - she managed a half-smile in Addams’s direction - “I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

Addams nodded. "Go use a transporter."

Mikaela smiled. "Computer," she instructed, "one to beam to Commander Locke's office." The computer beeped an acknowledgement and, as the golden transporter beam began to surround her, she offered a casual little wave to Doctor Addams.

 

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