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considering the implications of continued bio-engineering and the forthcoming role of bot-botics, the field of automatic engineering and micro-engineering through robotics; and questioning why his young exploratory soul chose one professional direction as opposed to another, namely the entertainment industry for which he marveled at as an obsessive, button-punching, game-playing kid.
Dr. Iman began to feed John standard “uh-huh’s” and “yeah’s” since his attention was being drifted further and further away. He shimmied his stool to the small medical exam table adjacent to the bed and adjusted a keyboard pad to sit comfortably under his palms. He danced his fingers across the pad, which in turn manipulated the monitor, revealing the 3D fibula image to be isolated and scanned. John watched what the doc was doing but not in a way that showed he was paying attention; instead, he was onto discussing the last time he saw his grandkids, or what he believed to be the last time.
“They live way up north. In the mountains. My daughter runs a solar lab up there, which keeps her pretty busy. They send the kids down from time to time, but usually I go up there to visit. I think Barry’s birthday just passed.”
“And your wife?” the doctor asked, punching more keys. “What can you tell me about how you met?”
There was silence. John’s face had gone pale by the time Dr. Iman noticed.
“My wife…”
The idea of it came to him before any memories resurfaced. The idea of being married…that sounded familiar.
Somewhat concerned, Dr. Iman’s focus returned fully on his patient. He watched him and waited for John to say more.
“My wife…” he repeated.
Slowly an image came to him, more a form or shape than a picture. Moments shared with her faded in and out like shadowed ghosts peeking through dimensions. Instead of her face he remembered scenes that took place around them, and objects of beauty that captured entire experiences. A soft petal yellow rose, with just a shiver of breeze disturbing it; but wait—a busy little bee has drawn their attention. Now who’s disturbing whom? In the dessert a lizard sits on a rock. He moves an inch in record speed, more like a spasm. He’s green and brown, but is that also a strip of burgundy on his back, stretching as far as his tail extends? His eyes slightly bulge. Is he cautious or curious?
These thoughts brought color back to John. His old, wrinkled pale skin was beginning to blush just slightly when finally a picture did form in his head—a picture of his wife. Beautiful, bright, young and expressive. Too expressive, in fact. She moved in slow motion, a close-up in his mind. She was floating, or flying, her face immensely stiff, her eyes locked in on John’s. Fear was boiling just below her surface; shock was consuming her.
John was remembering the accident.
“Veronica…”
(To be continued in Issue II...)
Veronica is inspired by a feature film script of the same name by Alexander Mabry-Paraiso, which was in turn inspired by the 1977 motion picture Demon Seed written by Robert Jaffe and Roger O. Hirson, which in turn was based on the novel of the same name by Dean Koontz.