The God Wave by Patrick Hemstreet Page A

all-encompassing sense. I couldn’t hear the sounds of the room. I couldn’t see anything but the results of my work. I felt as if I was riding on air. Getting to the gamma was hard work.
    â€œThis felt effortless.”
    Chuck frowned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I’m just afraid that if this wave is sustained over a period of time, especially repetitively, it might damage you in some way. Burn you out, even. I have no way of measuring what’s happening to your synapses in real time. I can only look at your brain after the fact, which might be too late.” He turned to Matt. “You said you were ‘impressed.’ The word I think we should be using is ‘concerned.’”
    Matt’s gaze bored into him, heavy and unrelenting. Finally the mathematician asked his partner quietly, “What do you suggest we do?” Chuck had learned to distrust that voice. Matt used it in conflicting ways. It could mean he was experiencing trepidation and was legitimately awed by the potential dangers of this new event. However, it could also mean he thought Chuck was being dense and obstructionist, and he was trying very hard not to show how much that annoyed him.
    And usually it’s the latter.
    Regardless, he offered his honest opinion. “I think we should pull back. Have Sara and the others go through some testing to make sure we’re not harming them in any way.”
    â€œI thought we agreed we’re just bulking up mentally,” said Tim. “Y’know, using the muscles and making them stronger and more efficient. Maybe we’re just having muscle cramps.”
    â€œIt’s not a cramp, Tim,” said Sara. Was there just a hint of smugness in her voice? She was, after all, the only one to have experienced this firsthand. “It’s the opposite of a cramp. Everything in my head was running as smooth as glass.”
    Chuck shook his head. “Even in the case of bodily muscles, you can overwork them and cause injury. I don’t—”
    Matt cut him off. “I understand your concern, Chuck. I really do,” he said in that same übergentle voice. “But we can’t afford to pull back. We’ve got commitments now. People who are waiting to see what this technology will do, banking on it doing something useful.”
    Chuck continued to shake his head. “Commitments? Banking on it? No, Matt! Dammit, we can’t let business imperatives drive our research. Too many people—scientists, politicians, businesspeople, you name it—use business commitments as excuses to take terrible risks. I’m not going to let us go out with a product that is potentially dangerous, let alone risk these people testing—”
    â€œChuck . . .” Sara leaned forward again and put a hand on his arm. “I promise you if I feel the least bit stressed, if I have the tiniest headache or dizziness or anything like that, I will let you know. Just don’t shut us down or ask us to wait to find out what we can do.” She glanced sideways at Tim. “Whatever it is I’ve done, I’m willing to bet that Tim and Mike won’t be far behind. Don’t stop us before we can find out what this means.”
    â€œThere,” Matt said. “From the horse’s mouth.” He felt the icy daggers of Sara’s side glance at his equestrian comparison but chose to ignore it. “Let’s not hesitate on the verge of a potential breakthrough.”
    A breakthrough. Is that what we are on the verge of? Chuck prayed that was so but couldn’t shake the idea that they seemed willing to risk everything, including the scientific method, for it. He knew he should say something else, something to convince the others how wrong this felt, but as he looked around the table, all he saw was everyone looking at him with varying degrees of anticipation. He shook his head.
    â€œAre you all on board with this?” he asked