2 comments/ 11343 views/ 6 favorites Transporting Brains and Not Bodies By: SusanJillParker Twinkle, twinkle little star, when life hasn't turned out the way that it was meant to be, a scientist discovers a way for people to make their dreams come true. "Angelo and Angela sat kissing in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G." Angelo loved Angela. They were to be married. The wedding was already planned. He was so excited and she was so happy, that is, until Maria came along to ruin everything. Casting a sexual spell over Angelo, she made three before making four with a baby. Alas, an unfortunate mistake, Angelo loved Angela and not Maria. With her long, dark, brown hair and big, brown eyes, Angela was everything he wanted in a woman, except for one thing. She was a virgin. It was good that she was a virgin but frustratingly, she wanted to stay a virgin until her wedding night. The love of his life, Angelo loved kissing Angela while feeling her modest sized B cup breasts and fingering and sucking her petite, dark brown nipples, before reaching beneath her skirt and beneath her panty to finger her sweet, albeit virginal, trimmed, Italian pussy. Different from an American pussy, Angela had a sweet olive pussy. With her hand firmly around his swollen cock while stroking him and looking up lovingly at him, she gave him the best blowjobs. She sexily gazed up at her future husband with her big brown eyes while stroking him, licking his balls, and sucking his cock. For a virginal woman, she was a skilled cocksucker and even though she wouldn't allow him to cum in her pussy, she readily allowed him to cum in her mouth and she swallowed his cum with all the gusto of swallowing bubbles from a guzzled glass of champagne. Even though Angelo and Angela did everything but have sexual intercourse, with Angelo being a virgin too, as a man wanting to have more sexual experience than his wife, he wanted to know what it felt like to be inside of a woman before his wedding night. Unfortunately, being that Angela was Sicilian with strict Catholic upbringing, she was saving her virginity for her husband in her wedding bed and on her wedding night. Especially back then, the custom for a newly married Sicilian woman in Sicily was to hang her nuptial sheet out the window to prove with her own blood that she was a virgin. A bit medieval but still their custom in this small, sunny paradise of a village just outside of Palermo, Sicily, their town lay protected by a harbor and within walking distance from the coast of the Tyrrhenian Sea. Alas, sadly, where all of his friends were having hot sex, really banging their girlfriends and seemingly fucking every women wearing a skirt, Angela was still a virgin. No conniving, convincing, and vino could change her mind from her staying that way, that is, until her wedding night. Wanting to remain faithful to his beloved, Angelo masturbated a lot while thinking of having deeply penetrating, sexual intercourse with Angela. He couldn't wait to part her clam with his penis and really pound her pussy. If it wasn't for Maria making her presence known by teasing him, flirting with him, and making her availability known to him by flaunting her shapely, sexy body at him, he may have refrained from cheating on Angela. With Maria's long line of cleavage that advertised her abundant breasts so fully exposed, along with the impressions of her nickel sized nipples always present in her tight, braless tops, he never would have thought that there may be a way for him to have his cake and eat it too without having any repercussions. Only, little did he know, thinking with his cock instead of with his head, he thought wrong. Grown much bigger and busier now after being away for 40 years, even though some things remained the same, other things in his small, coastal village have changed drastically and improved dramatically. When transported back to his home village, Angelo barely recognized the countryside outside of Palermo, that is, if it wasn't for the fact that he was returning there precisely at 3:33pm, on April 24, 1972, Angela's 22nd birthday and the day of their wedding. Only, their wedding was cancelled because of Maria. She was pregnant with Angelo's baby, a boy, they named Vito. "I'm pregnant Angelo," she said flipping her pretty chin up at him as if she was giving him the finger. "Fungool," said Angelo. "Fungool? Fungool you Angelo." "Pregnant? I can't believe you're pregnant Maria." "What are you going to do about me being pregnant? Huh?" She asked with attitude while pushing out her curvy hip before putting her hand on it. "Are you going to make me an honest woman by giving your child your name?" "Fungool," he said again. "My name? How can I give you my name when I'm marrying Angela? I can't give two women my name." Shorter than Angela, Maria wasn't as pretty as Angela, only she was no dog by any means. Angela was just than much more good looking. Only when compared to Angela did Maria pale in comparison. If Maria was to walk in a crowded room, all eyes would be on her, that is, until Angela arrived. Yet, what Angela lacked in tits and hips, Maria had those body parts covered in spades. With the bad attitude and the bodacious body to be a big, beautiful, black woman from Detroit, only being that she was a Sicilian Italian, she was about to make Angelo an offer he'd best not refuse. "Fungool." Not a bad looking woman, Maria had big, D cup breasts, so much bigger than Angela's barely there B cup breasts. Because Maria was so young, barely 22-years-old, she seldom wore a bra, even though with her massive breasts she should help support them from sagging, swaying, and bouncing around whenever she ran to give Angelo a hug and a passionate, wet kiss. Yet, in the way that Angela, with her tall, slender, and shapely body, along with her olive tone complexion, looked as if she could have been from northern Italy, Milan possibly, Maria, with her shorter and squatter stature and darker complexion definitely looked more Sicilian. Especially with her big mouth and bossy attitude, there was no mistaking Maria for anything else but for a Sicilian woman. Moreover, Maria was a baby making machine and, back then, before she gained fifty pounds later in life, ten pounds with each baby she had, she exuded sex. Where Angelo loved Angela for different reasons, her beautiful face, her kind spirit, her sense of humor, and goodness, there was something about Maria that drove Angelo wild with sexual passion. Where Angela was so good, Maria was so bad. Just as he loved Angela's blowjobs, he loved fucking Maria. Humping her with horniness, she returned his humps with passion until they developed a rhythm enough to orgasm at the same time. Torn, turned, twisted, and tormented between his all consuming love for one woman and his deep, sexual passion for the other, his decision was made for him when Maria became pregnant. Yet, with his little bird ready to fly away to Capistrano with a new man in her life and with him moving away to start his life in America, never to see her again, Angelo still loved his delicately sweet Angela. Not very different from when men take a mistress, looking for something syrupy and sugary to eat, in the way of a female dessert, fruit pie, where Angela was the sweet dessert, soup to nuts, Maria was the full, seven course meal, a literal banquet feast of womanhood. Only, not the modern woman that Angela was, that is, except for her maintaining her virginity, Maria was so Italian, too Italian, and so very Sicilian. Definitely, Maria could be a Mafia bosses' wife. Dressed from head to toe in black for the rest of her life, she'd even bode well as his widow should her husband not meet with her demanding expectations and have a premature demise not so much from the sharpness of her tongue or from the bullets of his rival gang, but from the slashing skill of her quick hand when wielding a knife. Best to lock up the knives whenever Maria was riled, she had a Sicilian temper and Angelo feared her in the way that Saint Peter feared the Devil. "Pregnant? You're pregnant? I can't believe you're pregnant. We only had sex once, a couple of times, a few times maybe, but not more than a couple dozen times. You can't be pregnant Maria. How could you do that to me? Why aren't you on birth control?" If she had a knife in her hand she would have stabbed him. Surely, she would have slashed, cut him, and watched him bleed to death. "Birth control?" Talking as much with her hands as she did with her big mouth, she waved her hand in front of his face at him. "I'm Catholic stupido. How could I do that to you? Faccia brutta! You're the one who made me pregnant asshole," she said with her face getting red and that little vein pushing through the skin on her forehead. "Mama Mia, but I'm marrying Angela, Maria. I can't marry you too, can I?" "Mama Mia my ass. I'm more than enough woman for any man. You won't need Angela after being married to me," said Maria talking with her hands again. "I don't know what you even saw in that tall, skinny bitch, Angela. She must have given you one Hell of a blowjob because I know for a fact that she's a virgin. She thinks her pussy is made of Vatican gold and she's too good to be fucked. I spit on her," she said spitting at his feet. "I'll wipe the street with her if she dares come between me and my man." Oh, oh, as if he was unclaimed land, she's already staked her claim to his head, his heart, and his ass by declaring him belonging to her. "Seriously, Maria, how can I marry you when I'm marrying Angela?" "After I kill her, how can you marry her when she'll be dead and buried in the ground," said Maria with a look of seriousness that told him, perhaps she'd be more suited to be the wife of a Mafia Don and the mother to the Godfather's children than to me married to him and be the mother of his children. "Can't you get an abortion?" "An abortion?" As if there was a mouse by her feet, she jumped off the floor with the mere mention of the word abortion. "Get an abortion? An abortion? You want me to abort my fetus? Are you crazy?" She signed herself before looking up to God. "Yeah, I mean no. I'm not crazy but I'd like for you to have an abortion so that we can forget this ever happened and I can marry my true love, Angela," he said taking a step back when he thought horns were about to sprout from her head. "I'm Catholic. A sin against God and the church, Catholics don't have abortions. We suffer through our mistakes," she said nodding her head. "Maria. Please. I beg you not to have this child," said Angelo with tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry Angelo. You made your bed. It's in God's hands now," she said signing herself again. "You must marry me instead of Angela and that's that," she said whipping off her hands as if they were coated with salt after she poured salt in his broken heart. Now it was Angelo's turn to get mad and he pointed his finger of accusation at her. "You tricked me. You made me make love to you. You forced me to have sex with you. You're such a little puttana." "Little puttana? After they stand you up beside me at the altar, my brothers will kill you before I have a bastard baby without a name and a proper baptism. I'm no man's puttana," she said pointing a finger in his face before lifting her big tits with both hands as if she was about to toss them over her shoulders in readiness for a fight. "Fucking puttana. That's what you are. You're a whore." "Puttana? A whore? I'm no puttana and I'm no whore. I suppose I tricked you into removing my clothes while you kissed and kissed me. I'm a witch. I vexed you. Is that it? I cast you in a love spell. I tricked you into sucking my big tits while fingering my wet pussy. While licking my pussy, I forced you to drink my magic potion, my pussy juices, instead of wine. Is that what you're saying and is that what you believe?" "Jesus Maria, I can't believe you got yourself pregnant," said Angelo sick to his stomach. "As if you weren't there? I got myself pregnant? How dare you! I made you make love to me by making your cock hard enough with my mouth so that you could fuck me. Is that it? I forced you to have sex with me by overpowering you and impaling my pussy with your cock. Is that it? I put the words in your mouth when you said, I love you Maria. I love you. I really, really love you, while you were really, really fucking me. Stupido!" Yeah, he fucked her and yes the sex was good but she was the type of woman that he just had to look at her to get her pregnant. Moreover, she was the type of forceful and aggressive woman that already had her claws in him so deep that he was no longer his own man. He was her man. Forsaken, he was doomed. Thinking with his cock instead of his brain, especially after a little too much vino, he should have known better than to have anything to do with Maria. The epitome of the Italian Mama before she even delivered a child, with those big hips and those big jugs filled with milk, she was born to have a big family. With one foolish act, Angelo ruined Angela's life and changed his destiny forever. With no way out but to marry her, he was doomed forever. Forever, he'll be paying for this one mistake. Forever, he'll have to live with Maria instead of with Angela, his true love. Forever, he'd wonder how different his life would have been living in Italy if he married Angela instead of marrying Maria and moving to the United States of America. Forever, his life was ruined forever. * * * * * "Who shall speak against the union of this man and this woman, speak now or forever hold your peace," said the priest looking all around the church while waiting for someone to object to the marriage. He continued when no one came forward. "I now pronounce you Angelo and you Maria, husband and wife. You may kiss your bride." With his thoughts with more and more with Angela, pining for the loss of her, Angelo slept in a cold bed with his wife Maria. After she gave birth to Vito, Mario, Julio, Filippo, and Maria, giving her all the children that she so wanted, he was done with her and it had been a years since they had sex. Food, instead of sex, became their passion and with all the cooking and baking she did, he had gained 100 pounds since being married to her and she had gained fifty. He remembered the days when they were so hot for one another. Forty years later, he wondered how different his life would have been had he married Angela instead of marrying Maria. Only, now just a sexual fantasy instead of a lifetime commitment, he'll never know the answer to that question. Listening for the sounds of his wife sleeping, snoring actually, he reached in his pajama bottom and fondled the head of his cock while thinking of Angela naked. Naked, naked, naked, he thought of Angela's full, red lips. He thought of her modest, B cup breasts and her small, dark brown nipples. He thought of her pussy and how he loved to lick her and make her cum. He remembered all the times she sucked his cock while staring up at him before he exploded his sexual passion for her in her mouth and before she swallowed all that he had to give. "Angela, Angela, Angela..." He wondered where she was now and who was she with. No doubt, she was sucking another man's cock while he was fucking another woman, a woman he didn't love in the way that he loved Angela. He wondered if she was with a man that she didn't love too. In the way he was touching himself now, he wondered if when she touched herself she thought of him. Always with him in his thoughts, he wondered if she still thought of him in the way that he still thought of her. Forty years later, he wondered what she looked like now. He wondered if she looked the same or if she grew fat in the way that he and his wife had grown fat. "Angela, Angela, Angela," he whispered while stroking his cock and sexually fantasying about his beloved Angela. "Fungool Angelo. Stop playing with yourself and go to sleep," said Maria with an elbow to his ribs. * * * * * Dr. Louis Durkin, a scientist working with a grant in an Massachusetts Institute of Technology laboratory, couldn't remember when he saw the light of day last. Sequestered in his lab, he arrived before sunrise and left late at night. Emerging from out of the darkness and into the light, he walked out of his lab for the last time defeated, defamed, disillusioned, despondent, and depressed. Having to leave this chapter of his professional career unwritten in the way a writer abandons a story because of an elusive ending, in his case, an unproven theory, with his research unfinished, his life was over. A dismal failure and having lost all his credibility among his peers and colleagues, after prematurely broadcasting and publishing his success, no one would hire him now. Feeling certain that he'd win the Nobel Prize for Science, he'd win nothing more than a booby prize now. How so embarrassing. Even though he had tenure, even though he could fight them in court with the help of the teachers' union, he decided to take their generous severance package and resign in disgrace. His cherished alma mater, he had embarrassed the university he so loved. The students, even his colleagues, made fun of him. Calling him a Trekkie, they called him Captain Jerk, instead of Captain Kirk, and called him Dr. Spoof instead of Dr. Spock the laughing stock, after his research had summarily failed before prematurely ending. Getting here so early and leaving so late, it was always an eerie feeling to see the college campus so deserted. Normally, he had students available to help him unload and carry supplies in his lab. Today, when he needed the help the most to load his rental truck with all of his belongings, he had no one but his sad, defeated self. With all the free advice, the jobs, and the internships that he gave his students over the years, there wasn't one person to help him pack. After paying him so much respect and giving him so many accolades, as if he had already won the Nobel Prize, now feeling duped and deceived, no one wanted to be seen with him, an embarrassed failure of the university. * * * * * Ten years ago today, it was a rainy day that inflamed his passion to succeed. Ten years later, it was a grey October day that melted his resolve to quit rather than to continue in disgrace while looking for something that wasn't there. In the way that George Bush looked for non-existent weapons of mass destruction, Dr. Durkin looked for proof of his molecular transportation theory. Theoretical it was possible. Only, theoretically, he was unable to prove it. A theory is just a theory without having scientific evidence and conclusive proof that would prove his theory. Tired, hot, and sweaty, never to return again, he just wanted to pack his truck and leave his beloved campus forever. For him to move forward, he had to put all of this behind him. Each year, with more funding in place, he had hoped for a breakthrough of his exhaustive but failed experiments to invent a molecular transporter, much like the one they had on Star Trek. He always thought it possible to turn the human form into energy and reconvert it back to flesh, bone, and blood. Unfortunately, ahead of the current technology and without being able to try, experiment on, and tinker with the process on a human form, now admittedly the process of dematerialization and re-materialization was years away from being a reality. A dismal failure, he felt like such the mad scientist. Way before his time, for him to succeed in transporting objects, never mind humans, just to store the complete DNA information on hard drives of one human being before being transported, he'd need a storage facility as big as the Empire State building and a supercomputer to process such encoded information was way out of his grant funding budget. What he thought possible in saving DNA instructions, before transporting humans, was impossible to replicate in the lab. Forensic scientists work with pieces of DNA strands daily but not as a whole and certainly not as exhaustively in the way that he was required to work with the complete nucleic acids that contain the genetic codes needed to preserve the DNA encoded functioning strands of all known living organisms. Even as a scientist who doesn't believe and who has never believed in God, it's difficult not to believe in God or some Alien being after seeing all that makes up one person, never mind the billions and billions of iterations of the human race. Just one mistake, one miscoding, one missing bit or unreadable byte of computer information, and only God knows what could happen and what monster he'd create. Even if the FDA and a dozen other Federal and state agencies approved him to go forward with human experimentation, unless someone was on death row or dying of cancer anyway, no human would dare volunteer to serve as his human guinea pig. Transporting Brains and Not Bodies Yet, based on the visitations that the Earth has had from Aliens throughout time, he suspected that we are all children born from Alien beings, super humans, if you will. Only and unfortunately, with all of us so genetically encoded, it will take us eons to unlock the secrets that we have stored just in our brains, never mind in the rest of our body. Our brain, our computer backups, if you will, and knowing that all he needed was there, he's been trying to find the key to unlock it but failed miserably. Assuredly, it won't be until the day that we are able to make more use of our brains and/or find a more superior life force that we'll finally realize the secrets of the universe, et al, the human body and the human brain. Until then, we are no more than a collection of prehistoric idiots. Out of the billions of inhabitants of this more than 5 billion year old planet and more than 10 billion year universe, had they lived today, he could list a mere one hundred people who walked the Earth before him and who may have been able to bridge the gap from man to God or from man to Alien. Galileo, Einstein, Darwin, Freud, Pasteur, Kepler, Fermi, and Faraday among them, just to name several, no intellectual match for any of them, he was heads and shoulders below their genius. Much like the process of Cryogenics, the science of bringing back someone frozen from the dead, to transport someone by pulling their molecules apart and putting them back together in the exact order and location they were before, he'd have to kill the person first in the hopes of bringing them back to life later. Only, once back, is that really them or is it their clone? Moreover, what about the soul? Something he never accounted for or even considered, being that he didn't believe in God and being that he can't even see it, touch it, and feel it to replicate it, even if he was able to transport someone, would they return to life without their soul? Then, when they die, would they be denied access to Heaven or not allowed entry to Hell? Where do these life forms that he recreated without souls go when they die? Do they just no longer exist? With the church and religion against him, and making his work impossibly difficult by protesting outside of his lab and breaking in his lab and sabotaging his experiments, too many religious, zealot protesters thought he was trying to play God. "How dare they! Those stupid idiots cost me my job, ruined my research, and ended my career." Moreover, when trying to transport someone or return someone from having been transported, what if something went wrong? God forbid if he lost power or if there was a sudden electrical storm and the computer crashed, there was so much that could go wrong. Just a nanosecond of a power surge would ruin everything. It wouldn't take much, but some of their DNA could be lost and not transferred in the process of transportation. What if he was transporting more than one person? Could their molecules become mixed? What would happen then? He cringed at the thought of thinking what could happen if something went wrong when transporting the human form with an animal form. In essence, instead of transporting them, he could be creating a living and breathing monster to unleash upon the world. He could invent the next Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Without even realizing it, thinking that his process of transporting someone was successful, he could release mayhem upon the world by creating a superhuman or more likely an inferior being to the one being transported. Imagine the liability he'd face. Imagine the civil lawsuit that could be brought against him, his grant providers, and the university. There could even be criminal charges that could land him in jail for the rest of his life. With the limited technology he had at his disposal, not wanting to play the part of a mad scientist, the science of molecular transportation was all too risky, before his time, and way beyond his abilities to do. After going through the myriad of paperwork and permits, if he experimented on a human and failed, he'd be even more of a laughing stock than he was now. No doubt, in today's litigious society, he'd be arrested, convicted of a crime, and sued civilly. He'd lose everything he's worked so hard to earn. His reputation as a scientist ruined, at the very least, he'd live the rest of his life in exile and obscurity. Besides, he never even reached the point of trying his experiment with humans. Unable to even begin transporting humans, his research had been spent trying to transport plants, insects, and mice. He could transport them, to God only knows where, but the problem was in trying to get them to return. For him to return them, he needed to know where they went and he had no idea. They just disappeared in the way they disappeared on Star Trek. Only he didn't have a Scotty to beam them back up to whence they started and where they belonged. Whatever he tried to transport disappeared. Basically what he invented was an evidence free, no clue left behind, killing machine instead of a molecular transporter. Certainly, in hindsight, now that he's failed, thinking that he could build a transporter was strange science that bordered on mad science. Regaled and rejoiced in the beginning at being on the edge of a new technological era, a mere ten years later, his research was viewed by the scientific community, as something that would interest Doctor Frankenstein, had he lived today. When his experiments failed to bring back what he transported, he lost the credibility of the scientific community as a whole. His published journals more of a science fiction novel, where an embarrassment to him, to his grant providers, and to the university. Then, with the negative press that the protesters created, companies that embraced him and his research before with grants that not only paid for his research but also supported him, no longer wanted to be mentioned with him in the same scientific journals and/or news articles now. He was done. He was finished, after losing the grant funding that he so needed to continue his work and his research. Even the military, the last one to buy in and the first one to leave with all the budget cuts, they pulled their Pentagon funded money from his project. All of those years of work and research was for naught. All of that time and energy that he invested was wasted. He didn't know where to begin. He didn't know what to do. How can he just give up and throw away research that he's been working on all of his life? His dreams of winning the Nobel Prize vanished, along with his wife. Working around the clock, sleeping at the lab, he was never home anymore anyway. Now that all his employees and interns were gone, standing outside his lab with his moving truck filled, he was left with nothing but his notes, his computers, and his lab equipment. He took one last look at the MIT campus in Cambridge, Massachusetts before leaving to find a storage facility to safeguard his equipment. Without a buyer to buy any of this useless stuff, he would have been left with a warehouse full of junk, that is, had he not had a last minute idea, an epiphany of sorts in what to do with all of his research equipment. In his most desolate moment, he realized that he had stumbled over something bazaar. As interesting as it was exciting, if not more marketable, along the way, he had another idea of what to do with his research that didn't include transporting bodies just minds. Not sure what he found, too busy with trying to transport humans to entertain the thought of any other breakthroughs, those findings that he discovered and ignored before hit him hard with the excitement of their possibilities now. With his hair uncombed and wild in the way of comedian, Dr. Irwin Corey, looking so much like the crazy professor that he was in his white lab coat, it was a good thing that he didn't tell a soul of his other discoveries. For sure, the government, namely the military, would have claimed his inventions as their own by sticking a top secret label on it. If they knew that their grant money had enabled him to develop something nearly as extraordinary as a transporter, they'd want it. Unable to do anything with it, they'd just stick it in a vault and in a guarded warehouse somewhere. Revoking his security clearances and with the government done with him now after having washed their hands of him, abandoning him as their chosen star researcher, he was free to continue the research on his new project, so long as he did it in secret. He needed time to think about how he could market his creation to someone to make money, enough money, perhaps, to fund and continue his human transporter research project on his own. He realized now much in the way of an exploded planet coming back together with gravity in the exact same way it had exploded, his theory was an impossible one to prove. Yet, much like in the movie, Total Recall with Arnold Schwarzenegger, he realized that in trying to turn the human molecules to an energy source and reconfigure them back to exactly the way they were before being transported, he made a huge, accidental discovery. In his intensive and exhaustive studies of the human body, especially the brain, by introducing specific, secret drugs in a chemical cocktail of sorts. Namely and specifically, he loaded the brain with neurotransmitters such as, Caffeine, Serotonin, Norepinephrine, and Dopamine, as well as other chemicals too. He realized that he could give people experiences, a memory, not unlike a Timothy Leary LSD trip, if you will, as if they've actually experienced them and lived through them. Of course, being that it was all drug induced, the feeling would dissipate once awakened but they'd still have their implanted memories as if they had truly experienced them. How much is that worth to have a memory of climbing Mount Everest or traveling in a submarine to the bottom of the ocean or traveling in a space shuttle to outer space? He could only imagine what a wealthy person would pay to have memories so specific and memories that they'd never have but always wanted. From traveling to faraway places, to driving exotic cars, to having sex with celebrities, he could only imagine the endless possibilities of memory implants. Being that he already had the capability of giving people a memory of their choice, other than to research the memory, he didn't need to do any further research to give them the specific memory. He already had everything in place to give those implanted memories to those who were willing to pay him a lot of money. Whatever experiences they always wanted to have but never had the time, the money, opportunity, the talent, the fortuitousness, or the resources to have, he now could give them. Only, how would he find such people who could afford to pay him exorbitant sums of money for the pure pleasure of him giving them merely a realistic memory? When he thought more about it, in the way of typical vacationers taking a summer vacation and a trip, all we are left with are our photographs, videos, souvenirs, and memories. Surely, based on the subject's memories, by hooking the subject's brain up to a computer with especially designed visualization software that he had developed and injecting them with secret mind altering drugs, he could even give them photographs of the experience, as if they had taken them with their camera. Now switching gears from a smaller piece of the pie, instead of reinventing the whole pie, pure genius, he was as excited about memory implants, as he was about trying to invent a molecular transporter. Figuring he'd be deemed just another crackpot and his idea a scam, this time he refrained from prematurely publishing his papers until he had conclusive proof that his memory implants really worked. So as not to call undue attention to himself and to his memory implants, no doubt for them to be stolen by the government, before he could successfully use them on a paying customer, if only to merely test the waters, he put an ad on Craigslist, of all places. Surely someone of interest will contact him. He busied himself writing the ad as soon as he got home. "Scientist, MIT grad, can implant memories. Memory implantation is a way for you to visit faraway places and/or do things you always wanted to do, without leaving the comfort of my laboratory. From skydiving to underwater exploration to space travel, you name it and I can implant it and even give you photos of your trip." Even though he wrote the ad, even though he could do everything as advertised, the ad sounded too much like science fiction. Nonetheless, he posted the ad and waited for his e-mail account to respond. Within minutes, mostly questions, he received dozens of e-mails. Within hours, there were hundreds of e-mails. By the next day, he had thousands of e-mails. He was on to something enormous. People were just as eager to leave their reality, as he was eager to help them leave. Yet, for a price. What was the price? How much should he charge them? Well, that would depend on where they wanted to go and what they wanted to do. It was all in the programming after all. It was all in the code. The more that they wanted to experience, the more code he'd have to write and the more time it would take for him to write it. All it took was information and he had plenty of that. The Internet was his best source. The information, words, photos, and videos were all there and were all that he needed to download, along with his brain expanding and mind altering drugs, to give his customers whatever they wanted for whatever price they were willing to pay. Dr. Durkin read through the e-mails, until he found the one perfect candidate, his first human guinea pig to test his memory implantations. Angelo Giovanni, an olive oil and wine importer turned pizza parlor chain owner, wanted to experience the woman he loved for decades, but didn't marry. A touching and romantic story, she was the one who got away. Now, married forty years with 5 children and 14 grandchildren, he needed to know what it would have been like had he married Angela Andolucci, instead of his current wife, Maria Palermo. * * * * * Fortunately for Dr. Durkin, for the sake and success of the experiment, and for the satisfaction of his customer, Angelo had saved all his old love letters from Angela. In addition, he had photos of her, when she was a young woman and later, found more photos of her, after she had some success as an Italian chef. Her name was all over the Internet, along with video, plenty of videos, until abruptly the record of her stopped just before her 47th birthday. After that Angelo and Dr. Durkin were not able to find any other mention of her. Perhaps having made enough money and having had enough success, she prematurely retired to live her life with her children and grandchildren. No matter, being that Angelo wanted to know what it would feel like to have sexual intercourse with Angela as a young woman, Dr. Durkin had more than enough literature and video to implant him with that memory and give him that memory. Mingled in with the photos that Angelo had of his wife, Maria, Dr. Durkin could easily insert Angela for Maria, whenever necessary and wherever needed. Everything he needed to give Angelo the experience of being with Angela, instead of living with Maria was there for the taking and there for the implanting. There was a lot of work involved before the implantation process. Much preparation needed to be done to give Angelo a believable experience. Would a million dollars be too much to ask him to pay or would that even be enough? A very successful and wealthy man, certainly Angelo could afford to pay that much and more. He had the money and would, no doubt, be willing to pay that exorbitant fee for the memory of being so sexually intimate with his beloved Angela. Moreover, he'd be under for a long time, 8-12 hours, depending on how long the drugs lasted on him. Being that he was a man in his sixties, sixty-four-years-old actually, the drugs may even have longer lasting effects. Dismissing the thought that he could die while being so drug induced, unproven and untested, his only real concern were the side effects and not the fatal consequences. Certainly, as anything of a medical nature, the memory implants had risks. More from the drugs that he needed to give Angelo than the actually memories he'd implant, he had no idea how Angelo would react to receiving a flood of memories, memories that may overwrite, override, and even replace his real memories. The brain was still uncharted territory. Any procedure that had to do with the brain and the nervous system of the body could be dangerous, even deadly. Yet, surely, this procedure was not nearly as dangerous as trying to molecularly transport someone from one place to another and back again. All he was actually doing was implanting a memory by using the memories that he already had and replacing Maria with Angela. It seemed easy enough to do that it was no big deal, especially after his weird science of molecular transportation. The first thing to do was to meet with Angelo and have him relate the exact experience that he wanted to have with Angela. Dr. Durkin prepared an exhaustive list of questions for Angelo to answer. The preliminary work that he did, questions and answers, photographs and videos, and the client's wishes and desires would all help to make for a more realistic experience and a longer lasting memory implant. "What experience do I want to have? What memory do I want to take to the grave? What do you think Professor? To be honest," he paused, "I want to know what it would have been like to have had sex, sexual intercourse with Angela," said Angelo in broken English. "Moreover, I don't want to experience sex as a 64-year-old man but as a 24-year-old man. I need to know if I married the right woman. I need to know for once and for all if Angela was meant for me. I need to stop torturing myself and souring the memories of Maria by those memories that I would have had with Angela." A new wrinkle, other than someone asking to have sex with a celebrity, sex was something that he never seriously considered. Dr. Durkin looked at the man with intrigue. Not one to turn down a challenge, he wondered how he'd do it, give Angelo the exact memories that he wanted of having sexual intercourse with Angela. He had the old photos of Angelo and of Angela but not of them having sex. He could exhaustively pick Angelo's brain as to what he experienced when having sex. He could document how he felt kissing, touching, feeling, and having oral sex with Angela forty years ago, as compared to how he felt now when having sexual intercourse with Maria. Yet, somehow having to manufacture one, the missing piece would be the one memory that Angelo wanted to have. Angelo wanted to know what it felt like to make love to the love of his life. He wanted to know what it would feel like to fuck Angela, really fuck her when they were both so young. There was software already out there that would show what the woman her dimensions and age would look like without her clothes. Moreover, he had videos of her and he had his client to give him the information that he needed of all the sexual experiences that he had and wished that he had. Definitely, it was doable. Only, would it be believable? Only, Angelo would know. One week later after loading everything about Angelo and Angela, even Maria, in his computer, in a darkened room, too dark to see his hand in front of his face, Angelo was hooked up to a computer as if he was on life support. The computer screen flashed his thoughts as if his brain was the main processor of a video game that played his thoughts through computerized interpretation. From this video of Angelo's thought waves, the computer translated his thoughts to images. A newly invented, one of a kind program, Dr. Durkin needed this kind of elaborate software to perfect the images that would become Angelo's memory implant. Transporting Brains and Not Bodies It was as if the computer was reading his mind and playing his thoughts on the screen in a sort of fast forward movie that spanned forty years. Instead of Angela there with her boyfriend and later her husband, she was now there with Angelo. Angelo was superimposed in every situation from walking, talking, and laughing, to watching a movie together, to making love. From the computer's imagery, Dr. Durkin copied that video that played and even made print copies of it to give to Angelo later. Proof that his memory implanted experiment was working, Angelo was hopped up with Dr. Durkin's mind altering drugs to keep him dreaming in full color. Getting his money's worth, Angelo was with his beloved Angela, as if he was really there with her. When she gave birth to her twins, Vincenzo and Luigi, Angelo was there. With the memory implanted in his brain, he raised those boys as if they were his own. The memories of Angela's husband memories were now Angelo's memories too. Yet, when they made love, the intimacy is what made the screen come alive with color. Kissing and kissing Angela, the color of the screen turned from cool green to electric blue to brilliant red. Angelo made love to Angela in ways he never made love to Maria. No amount of sexual passion that he had for Maria could make up for the love that he had for Angela. He always knew he loved her. He always knew that she was the only woman for him and had he not made that one mistake with Maria in having sex with her and making her pregnant, he would have been happily married to Angela. They were so joyously happy together. Meant to be together forever, Angelo and Angela had a wonderful life filled with happiness, love, sex, and devotion. All that was missing was a dog and they bought two toy terriers that completed and accentuated their happy family. With the memories implanted in his brain and the videos and photos to give evidence that he was there in her life all of these years, he raised those boys as if they were his own. From preschool to grammar school, to high school and college graduation, he was there at the wedding when they were married. A twin ceremony for both sets of twins, their identical twin boys married identical twin girls, Donatella and Michelangela, on the same day and at the same wedding ceremony. Everything was perfect. Finally, he discovered the truth. He was meant to be with Angela and not Maria. With their 25th wedding anniversary soon approaching and Angela's 47th birthday on that same fateful day of April 24th, Angelo gave his wife of 25-years an early anniversary gift, a brand new 1997 Ferrari 550 Maranello. She had always wanted a Ferrari and Angelo couldn't afford one until now when he started importing his olive oil and wine to the United States. Now, blessed a million times over, their life together couldn't be any better. It was on that treacherous mountain road, on their way to the wedding reception, that Angela lost control of the Ferrari after upsetting the balance the car when negotiating a double S curve. She came rocketing down the straight too fast while approaching a hairpin curve. Never completely regaining control of the car, unbalanced and traveling at too high of a rate of speed for her driving skill, the car zoomed off the highway and launched itself off the mountain road. Airborne and with Angelo's life flashing before him, he took Angela's hand. "I love you," said Angelo. "I really, really love you and I will love you forever." "I love you too Angelo," said Angelo. When they leaned in to kiss one another, as if their kiss was the symbol of the fireworks they felt inside when kissing, the car exploded upon hitting the rocks belong. As soon as the car exploded the computer screen went white and the heart monitor that monitored Angelo's vital signs went flat. Dr. Durkin did his best to revive Angelo with CPR. He even shocked his heart with a defibrillator but to no avail. Recording and videotaping everything from the mind's eye of Angelo, as if he was sitting in that car with Angela, he died with her in that car on that day. Then, the computer screen flickered before brightening to a full screen of pure, mesmerizing, white light, so brightly luminous that Dr. Durkin had to shield his eyes. There in the center of the light, as if they were ascending to Heaven, were Angelo and Angela walking hand in hand. Somehow through the magic of his computer technology, Dr. Durkin had not only captured their deaths but also captured their life after death. With his computer continuing to record all that was happening, he watched Angelo and Angela being met and greeted by their relatives. Then, there above their heads, as if levitating above them, was God welcoming them to his Heavenly kingdom. Then the screen went black, as black as the room was before Dr. Durkin turned on all the lights in his feeble attempt to save Angelo's life. Now he wondered with Angelo dying a tragic death at 49-years-old in Italy, never marrying Maria and crossing the ocean to start his pizza chain in America, he wondered if all of those memories were gone and replaced with those of Angela. He closed Angelo's eyes knowing that he had given him the memory in death that he always wanted to have in life. The End