Have you ever considered how much potential there is in time? How within each tiny portion there exists the possibility for it to become the defining point of your life for better or worse? Dr. Gwen Avalon was considering just that point. Her life's work would either be vindicated or forgotten by this committee. A committee that had little real background in medicine and no real understanding of just what she was proposing beyond monetary concerns. And political ones.

An elderly bald man leaned across the table toward her. "Dr. Avalon" Chairman Brunt began uneasily. "This project of yours," he sighed. "The press has been giving us a hard time over it. They believe we are crossing some sort of distinction between human and machines." He paused and attempted a light hearted joke. "They think we're going to let computers take over the world like something out of a bad science fiction novel." Seeing his joke hadn't made the situation any easier on her, Brunt became serious again. "I understand you're moving on to the final stage but we need to reconsider our earlier decision before we cross the point of no return."

"You see Miss," a young, polished man said empathising the Miss to the point of making it an insult. "We make cybernetic limbs, the odd mechanical stomach. Replacements for nonessential organs." Vice-chairman Trumen patronized. He was the sort of man that initiated the feminist movement.

"With all respect Sir I think the stomach is quite essential to daily life" Gwen retorted in a respectful tone.

Trumen face reddened and he sat back in his expensive executive chair. "But we're not talking about a stomach, we are talking about the human brain. The essence of life itself."

He looked about ready to jump onto his favourite atheist bandwagon so Gwen shoved back her interrogation chair and strode up to the desk. Placing both hand firmly on the desk to indicate her standing on this issue. "It's a fully functional Cybernetic Active Neural Network. It doesn't have to replace the brain in it's entirety but it can. It can benefit brain tumor patients, who lose a portion of their brain to cancer. The CANN can replace the damaged parts of their brain and let them lead a more active normal life. It's a revolution in standard medical practises. This could be the next bionic ear or pacemaker. You have to let me try."
Suddenly a crackling noise came from the speakerphone on the desk in front of her and a distorted voice issued forth. "The bottom line is wether it makes money or not."

One of the minor associates whined a question about their public image but the Voice wouldn't let her finish and interrupted harshly. For a moment there was total silence. Gwen quietly sunk back into her uncomfortable pine chair that had suddenly appeared inviting.

"Now as I see it we can't lose." Continued the Voice. "If Trumen is right and all that we are exists in the brain then our patients will be nothing more than flesh robots. We'll include a clause on the contract that if something goes wrong we get the bodies. We'll explain that we want to supposedly investigate what went wrong. In reality we'll be hiring them out as a cheap politically correct work force. The general appearance of the subjects will be changed of course so no one recognizes them......"

Gwen was finally beginning to understand what the Voice intended. It wanted Zombies, undead slaves taking the place of poor imiagrants working to feed there families. They would look engough like humans so the RAGE (against the machine) Activists wouldn't think machines were replacing humans when if every essence of the word they were. The Zombies wouldn't be targeted and ousted like the Mechnos of previous years. The company that made the Mechnos went out of business because in the end no one would hire them. They made people too uncomfortable, employees were distracted from their work and started making mistakes. The Mechnos ended up costing more in loss of production than what was saved in using them. The Zombies would solve all of the Mechnos problems. They wouldn't be distracting because it would seem normal to see humans working on menial tasks. No protests would occur because to the everyday eye they would be humans. It was a subvertion of everything she had worked so hard for. Of all the things that might have gone wrong she hadn?t seen how her creation could be used for such evil purposes. Something had to be done. Her dream couldn't die like this.

Gwen was drawn out of her own private reverie by the sound of her name. "......Dr. Avalon believes and the soul is housed somewhere other than the brain then we will have as she already mentioned revolutionized the industry of organ replacement. So you see, either way we all stand to make a fortune." The Voice concluded.

Looking about the room Gwen could see the greedy looks that had arisen in the committee eyes they were no longer concern with politics but with money. Trumen looked calculating as if he was going to try to get more than his fair share of the money. He might try to blackmail the Voice, if he actually knew who it was and the rumors of an Unknown head of the company weren't true. Although to Gwen they seemed true enough right now. Poor old Brunt looked like he had swallowed something bad but the greed slowly overwhelmed all other emotions. It appeared that Gwen was the only one with a strong enough sense of morality that it couldn't be bought by the prospect of billions.

The pause went on for an eternity, it was as if the Voice was letting its words sink in for full impact. After a time it considered long enough the Voice brought the meeting to an end. "So Dr. Frankenstein you have leave to choose your test subject. Happy hunting. Meeting adjourned."

***********************************************************

Gwen picked up a file from among the many covering her dining room table. She sighed then proceeded to leaf through it not really reading any of what she saw. After half a second she dropped it and rubbed her reddened eyes before bowing her head in exhaustion. The clock on the wall ticked past night and into morning. Still Gwen was no closer to a solution. Looking out her windows to the storm claiming the sky for it's own she sighed and lowered her head again.

"Storms on the horizon in more than one sense eh?" Sarah, an obsidian eyed, dark haired woman, questioned as she delicately finished the thunderous purple cloud near a lightning flash. "In fact that what I'm painting now ya know. I'm sure you were curious just what I could be painting at.." She turned her wirst over and wiped the white paint off her watch to read the time "...3'oclock in the morning."

Lifting her head enough to eye her guest turned roomie across her easel. Gwen glared mercilessly at her friendly roommate Sarah Mercie. She was an old friend from med school. Only Sarah had never finished. Her reputation had fallen into disrepute after she had taken in with some less conventional medical practices. In fact Gwen hadn't even invited Sarah to stay with her. Sarah had simply shown up one day saying people who were about to make history shouldn't be alone. She was one of those people who could make you agree to things before you even realised it. She called it one of her many gifts. Not that she was a problem really. The bills were all paid in time though Gwen didn't know where the money came from. Besides she needed the money after pouring so much of her own into the project. Also it was good to have a friend nearby after that Meeting. Even if Sarah did leave her paint brushes everywhere.

Sarah pulled her brush back from the painting considering. "Oh, honestly how hard can it be to choose someone eh?"

"This is important Sarah" Said Gwen sternly, frowning still.

"Yah, but it's not like ya just started. You and I both know any of those people would do. I mean it doesn't matter about the money and all of them are in the Mount Hospital so it's not like they've far to travel. All the cases are severe. All will die for sure if you don't pick them and if you do pick them...well only god knows." Sarah explained.

Sarah's somewhat tattered black cat Mumpkins choose that exact moment to leap upon the table seeking Gwen's affections. Of course all he succeeded in doing was scattering papers far and wide before sliding of the table himself with another pile of papers. He was too much of a cat to fall on the floor though so he merely leaped mid-fall into Sarah's lap. Meowing disdainfully at Sarah's inattention he tried to make it look as if he had planned it all along. Gwen at this point was swearing loudly and attempting to put her papers in some order before killing Mumpkins.

Sarah had seen her murderous look so she said calmly "You can't be blaming Mumpsie he's been begging for your attention all week he was bound to do something like that eventually. Anyway it's not like they were in any special order."

In a fit of frustration Gwen grabbed a stack of papers and threw them at the table. "They were on the table at least!"

Mumpkins had recovered from his embarassment and grown interested in the papers again so he alighted the table, carefully this time. Then he proceeded to play with a tattered page at the bottom of a pile. Gwen started to move toward him arms outstretched. Carefully stalking him. Mumpkins of course ignored her.

"What about that one?" Sarah asked in an attempt to distract Gwen.

Gwen turned. "Huh?"

Sarah reached out and grabbed the papers Mumpkins was playing with, deftly shoving him off the table and handed them to a puzzled Gwen. She then tended to his hurt feelings letting him play with her still wet paintbrush and getting him coloured a delightful shade of purple.

"There ya go now it's not your decision it was Mumpkins." Sarah said satisfied she had saved her cat.

Then perhaps the most shocking thing of the entire saga occurred when Gwen said "Alright."

So it was that Fredrick Mavis Natterson was the first subject for total brain replacement surgery. Not that they were going to scoop out all his brains. Gwen and her team were just going to work with what was left. And that wasn't much. Fred's condition was caused by a case of mistaken identity. The kidnappers had mistaken him for the school age son of the wealthy businessman Vincent Young. They had then mistakenly shot him in the head while aiming at his toe when the police burst in the door. At least that is according to their witness statement. In fact it seems his entire life was a mistake. That's what his mother called him when she gave him up for adoption. That's what each of his foster homes said when they passed him on. Finally that's what the doctors said when kindly old Mrs. Sine decided to keep him on life support after he was declared legally brain-dead. Seems the only thing that went right in his life was Mumpkins.

The surgery couldn't have gone any better. The neural receptors were placed in perfectly. Cybernetic systems integrated with his systems easily. Still the procedure couldn't be called a success until the Cerebral core was inserted and attached to what was left of Fred's brainstem. Gwen checked herself over making sure all was in order. She breathed deeply and nodded to her team. Then carefully picking up something that resembled a bad hair do, she began to insert it into Fred's open cranium. Each of the neural fibres was delicately attached to a neural receptor and then tested to ensure communication between the two.

"The frontal lobe neural station is green and go." Technician Smart called cheerfully

Another technician fiddled with computer for several seconds mumbling to himself. "Come on ....just a little more.." People around the room began to look anxiously in his direction. Smart pulled herself out of her station and looked intently over his shoulder. Suddenly he smiled triumphantly and finished "Motor area responding."

A universal sigh of relief filled the room and some nurses laughed under the tension. Gwen and her colleagues proceeded building the CANN up from inside Fred's skull. The Cerebral core was finally fully attached to the brainstem but they hadn't been able to find a way to test it without the possibility of damaging Fred. Instead Gwen would just have to wait. She pulled back from the operating table and let Dr. Johnson close up.

She had done all she could both for Fredrick and
her sense of morality. If Fredrick survived the operation with his sanity intact the Voice couldn't use him as his first Zombie. To that end Gwen had poured her heart and soul into this project. Trumen couldn't be right. Could he?

***********************************************8***********

Gwen woke in a sweat. Something was wrong she had to get to the Mount Hospital. Fred, she had to see Fred. A cloud of weariness descended on her erasing all her earlier energy. Anger revitalized her fallen conviction as she sensed a familiar scent. Damn! Sarah and her herbal, gypsy what nots. They always made her so sleepy. Well, not this time she was getting out of bed and going to the Mount because...because...because something was wrong. Right? It didn't matter anymore she was out of her comfortable bed so she was going. First she was dumping some water on that smoldering herb concoction though.

When Gwen's herb muddled brain had begun to function again she realized Sarah wasn't on the sofa bed as usual. Probably had crept out to go clubbing and left the sleepy potion to prevent her knowing. Now that Gwen was sensible again she wasn't sure why she needed to go to the Mount but regardless she grabbed her coat and keys. It occurred to Gwen as she was driving that the roads were very quiet at 12:30. She remembered some trite her mother had told her once about the hours between 12 and 1 being the Witching hour. Though she had to admit it did seem pretty supernatural to someone driving to a hospital all alone without knowing quite why.

The night just seemed to get stranger as she moved on. Everyone in the hospital was asleep. It was impossible to wake them. This wasn't just weird, it was dangerous. What if one of the patients had a complication while everyone was dozing. Who would help them? To top everything off Gwen was starting to feel sleepy again. Her feet were beginning to drag on the floor. She grabbed a counter that a orderly was slumped over and promptly bashed her head into it. Reveling in her new found metal sharpness as well as a nice purple bump. She raced through the hospital to the security door of the CANN section. Flicking her card out with a growing weariness she swiped it through only to find the lock wasn't functioning. In fact it unlocked so just anyone could have wondered in. Sleepwalked in might have been more accurate.

It suddenly occurred to her sleep addled brain that this might be the work of the Voice sabotaging its own project so that it made more money. No, that didn't make sense it would get just as much either way. Who? Trumen! He was just the type to sleepy gas an entire hospital to achieve his own ends. Typical over achiever. Soon Gwen realized she was nearing Fred's chamber. She crept slowly around the corner determined to catch Trumen red handed. In her almost sleepwalking state she didn't give a thought to the need to defend herself or call the police for that matter.

Rounding the corner to Fred's room Gwen received the shock of her life. Mumpkins was sitting on top of Fred staring attentively into his closed eyes. While she was recovering from the shock of seeing her friend's cat on Fred -- it suddenly occurred to her to wonder where her friend was.

As Gwen turned around scanning the room, she came to face Sarah and a gnarled stick. "Nice of ya to come. I wasn't sure you'd get past the snooze zone." She drawled waving the stick in a complicated pattern.

Gwen slowly stepped away from Sarah feeling around for something, anything useful. "What are you doing with that stick? What have you been doing to my patient? I don't understand!"

"Full of questions aren't we." Sarah answered with exasperation. "Well truth be told I need your help. I thought I could do it on me own but it was not to be. I need a bit more of an explanation on how this contraption of yours works."

Gwen stared at her so-called friend in disbelief. Glancing around the room once more to assure herself all this confusion was in fact reality. Mumpkins gave her a distracted half glance before gazing intently at the pale white face of the boy without much hope of a future. A day ago Gwen might have been hopeful of a recovery or something indicating the procedure had worked but now.... She was just glad the Voice hadn't found out of her failure yet. Trumen hadn't either for that matter.

Staring solidly at the floor Gwen spoke slowly. "If Trumen was here. I could understand that. He's hated this from the start. Even if the Voice was here I..."

Wide eyed she glanced shocked at Sarah. "You..you're not....are you?"

"I'm not what?" Sarah looked as puzzled as Gwen had done now.

Gwen waved her hand empathizing each word. "The mysterious owner of the company that supported my research. That would explain where all your money comes from and even what you're doing at my house. Keeping and eye on me!"

"Oh, no nonono" Sarah said in a dismissive tone, planting her staff firmly on the ground. "That Voice belongs to Vincent Young. I'm sure he seems familiar eh?"

"How do you know that?" Asked Gwen.

Shrugging Sarah answered enigmatically. "Creative research."

Gathering up what little was left of her resolve with a deep breath, Gwen issued an ultimatum. "I think you'd better explain everything fully before I volunteer any information about my CANN."

"Very well" agreed Sarah looking uncomfortable. "I've been trying to help ya all along, Gwen honest. I helped ya choose Fred here didn't I?" Here she paused mulling something over. "Truth be told I made ya choose Fred." After letting that intriguing fact sink in she continued. "He was the only patient I could be sure Mr. Vincent Young wouldn't interfere with. I think ya probably remember his case file. It was forged to some extent but like all the best lies it was based on some truth. The story essentially true 'cepting the fact that Fred here is in fact Victor Fredrick Young. He was shot in the head because Mr. Vincent won't bend to the will of terrorists. Though he will keep his brain-dead son alive on life support for a reasonable amount of time. Even volunteer him for a risky medical procedure that might save him. Or make a slave out of him."

"Only it looks like he'll suffer neither of those." Interrupted Gwen with a fallen look on her face.

Sarah looked at her disheartened friend and took the plunge. "Not necessarily. I know you've never taken what I do seriously Gwen but this is a kind of medicine, ya know, even if the medical society won't recognize it. People throughout the centuries have come to my people for healing. Even though they burned them and called them witches. But this gypsy magic works Gwen and what's more, ya need it. Now ya have the choice of helping me do this and seeing your CANN thing work or ya can leave now and leave your precious CANN in the hands of people like Vincent Young and Trumen."

"What do you need to know?" Gwen said simply.

Sarah's smile lit up the darkened room. "Alright now. The soul is generally found floating in or around the body. In coma patients the cord connecting it to the brain is broken or damaged. Now you've replaced the brain and connected it to all the patient's biological systems but you haven't connected the soul. That's what I've been trying to do for about an hour but I'm having problems getting you're software to accept the connection. Apparently I'm missing some passwords."

"Yeah, I put them in to prevent tampering." Gwen explained moving to the computer interface. She began typing in a seemingly random pattern. Flicking from screen to screen making odd little adjustments. She delivered short, sharp questions to Sarah about the nature of the link. Quickly entering all the answers Gwen wondered what the result of such and odd evening could possibly be. Gypsy magic and medicine indeed! I mean there was still a satisfied looking black cat sitting on Fred or should it be Vic? She shook her head trying to ignore all irrelevant things and concentrate on reconfiguring the CANN's internal system to accept information from a soul. Totally Bizarre!

The being currently known as Mumpkins queried it's pupil. "Sure this creature is entirely trustworthy Sarah/Lightning/Skylight."

Sarah eyes grew glazed and she answered her guardian on the mind currents. "Gwen is one of my oldest friends Master/Adept/Wise Eye. She is worthy of our help. Anyway you wished this one saved."

"This is true the Victor/Cyclone/Wildwind mind vessel is needed. It cannot be lost to the currents. His talents/powers/skills will be needed in the future/unknown troubled times come. Be Attentive Child! The trusted one has finished. She seeks Sarah/Lighting/Skylight." Wise Eye broke off his mindwake and yowled loudly distracting Gwen for a few precious moments.

Gwen was just beginning to get worried about her silent friend when Mumpkins made a strange noise. Then before she knew it Sarah was tapping her shoulder and asking if she was done. She nodded absently, staring at the cat. Not for the first time wondering why it was here. Suddenly a queer iridescent glow settled upon the room. Highlighting a strange violet colour around Sarah. A weird amber one about Mumpkins and decayed looking black, green about Vic or Fred or whoever. The boy looked other-worldly with his fair hair and pale skin reflecting the various multi-faceted lights. His weakened limbs looked like they were about to break with the effort of remaining corporeal. Gwen had spent so much time with him lately she felt like she knew him. Now she wanted a chance to really know him and not just his still form. She hoped this could save him.

Playing among the eddies and flows of the mindcurrents the soul that was Victor wasn't altogether sure why it had remained here so long. Except that it was here for a reason. There were that tied souls and its weird friend again. They kept pulling at its substance taking it somewhere that was both familiar and wrong at the same time. They were trying to coax it there again. They keep making intriguing pretty lights and drawing currents. Deciding it would play their game again it allowed itself to be lead to a region that while still seeming odd wasn?t altogether wrong anymore. Happily it slid into place and its existence changed somewhat.......

Sensations flooding along his mind Victor slowly opened his eyes. He fluttered his eyelids to get the sleep out of them. As his vision faded into focus he realized that the strange cat that had been hanging around was crouching on him. Switching his gaze to things beyond the cat he realized he was in a hospital room. A doctor and some eccentric bohemian lady were laughing and crying into each others arms, while dancing around the room. His memory had some rather large holes but none of this seemed familiar while it did seem normal -- sort of. The cat suddenly leaned forward grabbing his attention with intense amber eyes.

"Welcome from the mindcurrents. I am known here as Mumpkins/Adept/Wise Eyes but you will know me as master. You are my next pupil. We have much to do before the troubled times. It is good to see you so active again Victor/Cyclone/Wildwind. Well, what are you waiting for boy thank the trusted doctor who gave you a new brain."