Tunnel Vision

36

“A what?”

“An out-of-the-body experience. Do you know what that is?”

“Like when people have accidents and watch paramedics give them CPR or whatever?”

“Precisely. Or in an operating room, patients will report floating over the scene.”

“What does that have to do with root beer?”

“We conducted a test while you were in suspension,” Luria said. “You couldn’t see it from where you were, nor could we. But on top of that cabinet we placed that laptop with its screen opened to the ceiling. On it was an image randomly selected from hundreds. We had no idea what it was until you awoke. Your first request was for root beer, preferably A and W—the very image the computer had selected, visible only from above.”

The cabinet was about seven feet tall with nothing visible on the top. The ceiling about three feet above that was made of nonreflective panels, so there was no way he could see even if he stuck his head out of the MRI tube. “Couldn’t it be just a coincidence?”

“Statistically very unlikely, since you said you can’t recall the last time you had that brand,” Luria said.

“What about those images from the other day? Maybe it was one of them and stuck in my mind. I woke up thirsty, and that was the first thing I connected with.”

“Except that in suspension, your brain cells were anesthetized from communicating with each other. Your memory bank was dormant.”

“You mean even if that logo was in my head, I wouldn’t have remembered it?”

“Precisely.”

The skin on his scalp tightened.

“Another thing,” said Luria. “The resolution power of this machine can record minuscule variations in cell-pattern activity from visual stimuli. Those brain scans we did the other day allowed us to identify discrete neuropatterns with specific images. You follow?”

“Kind of.”

“In other words, the machine correlated particular images—kittens, sunsets, exotic cars, root beer logos, family photos—with neuroelectrical activity at the cell level.”

“Think of it as a neurostatic fingerprinting,” said Sarah. “What we saw in your brain activity patterns specifically correlates with that pattern when the A and W logo was shown to you the other day.”

“So you can recognize particular emotional states of people?”

“Yes, modes of joy, anger, sadness—a full spectrum of emotional states.”

“But pictures of birds or sunsets don’t create emotional differences.”

“You wouldn’t think,” Stern said. “But actually they do, but on a micro level. The brain creates very subtle differences, ‘microemotional’ reactions to particular stimuli. With more personal images, like your pet, girlfriend, a family member, or favorite vacation spot, there are more pronounced neuroreactions. Eventually we can develop full neuroelectrical signatures of test subjects’ various states. And those help us interpret what goes on during NDEs.

“Also, some of these individual signature patterns coincide with those of other test patients. In fact, some of these patterns are standard and give us a boilerplate code.”

“But I thought you said the anesthetic stopped the electrical activity in my brain.”

“That’s right.”

“Then how did you detect electrical patterns in the scans?”

“That’s the key question,” Stern said. “There’s a biochemical explanation. Part of your brain didn’t respond to the anesthetic. Possibly there’s an undiscovered sodium channel that did not react to the tetrodotoxin but still kept you in a flatline state.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Well, that specific neuroelectrical pattern regarding the root beer logo could only have been there had you woken up and climbed out of the MRI and up a ladder to the cabinet.”

“But that didn’t happen,” Zack said.

“That’s right,” said Dr. Luria. “The other explanation is that in the state of suspension, your consciousness transcended your brain. If you will, your spirit left your body.”

Zack’s mind felt stunned. “But how…?”

Sarah came over to him with a bottle of water. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. I’m having problems with what you’re telling me.”

“Of course. It’s a bit incredible to me also.”

“But how do you explain that?”

Dr. Luria’s face looked like a polished apple for the excitement she was trying to contain. “That’s also what we’re trying to determine and the reason why we’d like to run another test on you, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“You want to put me under again?”

“At another time. You need to rest up and let the sedative leave your system. We also need time to analyze all the data. But, if you’re willing to have another session, we’ll pay you another seven hundred and fifty dollars.”

The group looked at him with faces full of expectation. He felt his Armenian merchant gene kick in. “How about a bonus for good behavior?”

Luria smiled. “Would eight hundred make you feel better?”

“Not as much as a thousand.” He held his breath as Dr. Luria thought that over.

“You drive a hard bargain,” Luria said. “Okay, one thousand. And we’ll come up with a mutually convenient date.”

Yes!

Then Luria took Zack’s arm. “Zack, I want to remind you that nothing that occurred here tonight can be shared with anybody else. This is all still very confidential.”

“Of course,” Zack said, wondering how and when they’d reveal their findings. “How exactly are out-of-the-body experiences related to near-death experiences?”

“More than fifty percent of those having NDEs claim to have out-of-the-body experiences. They’re part of the same phenomenon.”

“What if it happens the next time?”

“Then it would all but eliminate coincidence,” she said, “and would confirm that you acquired information while in suspension—that your unconscious mind left your body.”

Zack made a move to follow Sarah to the exit. But Luria stopped him. “Zack, you may be interested in knowing that the heightened neuroactivity we recorded is located in the very sector associated with religious and spiritual experiences. It’s known as the ‘God lobe.’”

“The God lobe? But I’m not even religious.”

“And that’s what’s so interesting.”

Zack gathered his things. Then Sarah walked him to the door. “How are you doing?” Her eyes glowed warmly, and he liked the feel of her hand guiding him to the door. He was still a little shaky on his feet.

“A bit dazzled.”

“Of course. It is very exciting,” she said. “Oh,” she added, and handed him a check.

He slipped that into his pocket and followed Bruce to the car. The chauffeur got into the driver’s seat and closed the door. Before Zack got in, he turned to Sarah. “When you’re not looking for the afterlife, do you ever go out for beer and pizza?”

“Are you inviting me?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d be happy to.”

“How about Friday night?”

“Sounds fine.”

He got in the car. If this was his postcoma afterlife, he was beginning to enjoy it.