Liz’s gaze fixated on the patient’s face as the surgeon drove an electrode deep into his brain. A skull clamp held the patient’s head in place as the medical staff operated behind him.
Frank sat beside Liz in the frigid observation room. He was dressed in the usual formal business wear he wore even back in their grad school days. He bounced in his seat with excitement as they watched the surgery through tinted glass.
Liz hadn’t known what to expect when Frank had announced his secret project, Rapture, was ready for a test-run, but she certainly hadn’t expected brain surgery. She shuddered. The patient was on end-of-life care, but even so, surgery seemed unnecessarily risky for something that wouldn’t improve his health.
The surgeon’s voice crackled through the intercom. “The electrode is in the nucleus accumbens now.” He stopped and checked a small device next to the patient’s head. “Baseline measurement of 460.3 hedons-perhour. Activating stimulation.” The surgeon nodded to an assistant, who flipped a switch.
The patient’s jaw went slack and his eyes glazed over.
Liz stood up. She frantically looked around at the medical staff, trying to discern if something had gone wrong. Her heart was in her throat. She turned to Frank. “Is he okay?”
Frank didn’t respond. He had leaned forward and watched the surgery suite intently.
The surgeon again checked the device next to the patient’s head. His voice came through the intercom. “The reading is stable at 8.3 kilohedons-per-hour.”
Frank let out a whoop. Liz’s mind reeled. She and Frank had developed the methods for measuring hedons—a precise measurement of how much pleasure one was feeling based on brain activity. The only readings she had seen approaching these levels were the experimental subjects in the midst of sexual climax. To see it sustained over time was unheard of.
“Is it safe to keep this up for so long?” she asked, trying not to let her discomfort creep into her voice.
Frank nodded. “We’re well within the safety limits established by simulations. It’s working as planned. Project Rapture is finally a reality.”
Liz’s spine tingled as a thread of drool made its way down from the patient’s mouth. “You plan to keep him like this?”
“Yep. We’ll pump in IV fluids and nutrients to keep his body going so he can experience pure bliss 24/7.”
Liz couldn’t believe it. “We’re supposed to make people happier,” she said softly.
Frank frowned and looked at her. “And we are. He’s totally blissed out.”
Liz shook her head. “I’m
