Robert pretended to see something in the air. "Right. See you around."
He heard friendly laughter. "Quite right! Reed can help you with that."
Reed Weber nodded, and now Robert had the feeling that he and Weber were truly alone in the room. The physician's assistant packed away the glasses, and various other pieces of loose equipment. Most were plain plastic boxes, prosaic throwaways except for the miracles they had made. Weber noticed his look, and smiled. "Just tools of the trade, the humdrum ones. It's the meds and machines that are floating around inside you that are really interesting." He stowed the last of the bricklike objects and looked up. "You're a very lucky guy, do you know that?"
I am in daylight now, where before it was night since forever. I wonder where Lena is ? Then he thought about the other's question. "How do you mean?"
"You picked all the right diseases!" He laughed. "Modern medicine is kind of like a minefield made in heaven. We can cure a lot of things: Alzheimer's, even though you almost missed the boat there. You and I both had Alzheimer's; I had the normal kind, cured at earliest onset. Lots of other things are just as fatal or crippling as ever. We still can't do much with strokes. Some cancers can't be cured. There are forms of osteoporosis that are as gruesome as ever. But all your major infirmities are things we have slam-dunk fixes for. Your bones are as good as a fifty-year-old's now. Today we did your eyes. In a week or so we'll start reinforcing your peripheral nervous system." Reed laughed. "You know, you've even got the skin and fat biochemistry that responds to Venn-Kurasawa treatments. It's not one person in a thousand who steps on that heavenly landmine; you're even going to look a lot younger."
"Next you'll be having me playing video games."
"Ah!" Weber reached into his equipment bag and pulled out a slip of paper. "We can't forget that."
Robert took the paper and unfolded it all the way. It was really quite large, almost the size of foolscap. This appeared to be letterhead stationery. At the top was a logo, and in a fancy font the words "Crick's Clinic, Geriatrics Division." The rest was some kind of outline, the main categories being: "Microsoft Family,"
"Great Wall Linux," and "Epiphany Lite."
"Eventually you'll want to use 'Epiphany Lite,' but in the meantime, just touch the computer type you're most familiar with."
The items listed under "Microsoft Family" were the brand names of Microsoft systems all the way back to the 1980s. Robert stared uncertainly.
"Robert? You you do know about computers, right?"
"Yes." The memory was there, now that he thought about it. He grinned. "But I was always the last to get on board. I got my first PC in 2000." And that was because the rest of the English Department was brutalizing him for not reading his email.
"Whew. Okay, you can imitate any of those old styles with that. Just lay it out flat on the arm of your chair. Your son has this room set to play the audio, but most places you'll have to keep your fingers touching the page if you want to hear output." Robert leaned forward to get a close view of the paper. It didn't glow; it didn't even have the glassy appearance of a computer display. It was just plain, high-quality paper. Reed pointed at the outline items. "Now press the menu option that corresponds to your favorite system."
Robert shrugged. Over the years, the department had upgraded through a number of systems, but he pressed his finger to the line of text that said "WinME." There was no pause, none of the boot-up delays he recalled. But suddenly a familiar and annoying musical jingle was in the air. It seemed to come from all around, not from the piece of paper. Now the page was full of color and icons. Robert was filled with nostalgia, remembering many frustrating hours spent in front of glowing computer screens.
Reed grinned. "A good choice. WinME has been a simple rental for a long time. If you picked Epiphany, we'd be whacking through their licensing jungle Okay, now the rest should be almost exactly what you know. Crick's Clinic even has some of the modern services filtered down so they look like browser sites. This isn't quite as good as what your son and I use, but you won't have any more trouble with 'invisible voices'; you'll see Rachel and Dr. Aquino on the page here, if you want. Be cool, Robert."
Robert listened to Weber's mix of probably dated slang and tech talk, to the joviality and the phrase structures that might suggest sarcasm. Once upon a time, all that would have been enough for Robert to calibrate this fellow. Today, just out of the murk of senility, he couldn't be sure. So he probed a little. "I'm all young again?"
Reed sat back, and gave an easy laugh. "Wish I could tell you that, Robert. You're seventy-five years old, and there are a lot more ways for the body to break down than the MDs have even imagined. But I've been on your case for six months. You've come back from the dead, man. You've almost got the Alzheimer's licked. It makes sense to try these other treatments on you now. You're going to have some surprises, mostly for the good. Just take it easy, roll with the punches. For instance, I noticed that you recognized your son just now."
"Y-Yes."
"I was here just a week ago. You didn't recognize him then."
It was strange to poke into that dimness, but "Yes. I knew I couldn't have a son. I wasn't old enough. I just wanted to go home, I mean to my parents' home in Bishop. And even now, I was surprised to see that Bob is so old." Consequences were crashing down upon him. "So my parents are dead "
Reed nodded. "I'm afraid so, Robert. There's a whole lifetime that you're going to start remembering."
"As a patchwork? Or oldest memories first? Or maybe I'll get stuck at some point "
"The MDs can give you the best answers on that." Reed hesitated. "Look, Robert. You used to be a professor, right?"
I was a poet ! But he didn't think Reed would appreciate which was the more valued rank. "Yes. Professor well, Professor Emeritus of English. At Stanford."
"Okay then. You were a smart guy. You have a lot to learn, but I'm betting you'll get those smarts back. Don't panic if you can't remember something. Don't push too hard, either. Practically every day the docs are going to restore some additional capability. The theory is that this will be less disturbing for you. Whether that's right or wrong won't matter if you keep cool. Remember you have a whole loving family here."
Lena . Robert lowered his head for a moment. Not a return to childhood, but a kind of second chance. If he could come all the way back from the Alzheimer's, if, if then he might have another twenty years left, time to make up for what he had lost. So two goals: his poetry, and "Lena."
Reed leaned closer. "What did you say, sir?"
Robert looked up. "My wife. I mean my ex-wife." He tried to remember more. "I bet I'll never remember what happened after I lost my marbles."
"Like I say, don't worry about it."
"I remember being married to Lena and raising Bobby. We split up years ago. But then I also remember her being with me when the Alzheimer's really started to shut me down. And now she's gone again. Where is she, Reed?"
Reed frowned, then leaned forward and zipped up his equipment case. "I'm sorry, Robert. She passed away two years ago." He stood and gave Robert a gentle pat on the shoulder. "You know, I think we've made really good progress today. Now I've got to run."
In his former life, Robert Gu had paid even less attention to technology than he had to current events. Human nature doesn't change, and as a poet his job was to distill and display that unchanging essence. Now well, I'm back from the dead ! That was something new under the sun, a bit of technology somewhat too large to ignore. It was a new chance at life, a chance to continue his career. And where he should continue his art was obvious: with Secrets of the Ages . He had spent five years on the cantos of that sequence, poems such as "Secrets of the Child,"