The Lucifer Code by Michael Cordy Page A

about her dream.
    'Papa Pete, I never dream. Remember? Ariel used to dream but I never did - that was one of the differences between us. What happened the other night reminded me more of the weird near-death experience I had during the operation. It wasn't like a dream.'
    'So what was it?'
    'That's what I want to find out. You remember telling me your first thoughts when you saw Ariel and me in the hospital in Sao Paulo after our natural parents had abandoned us?'
    He sipped his wine and nodded. 'Sure. Though the doctors called you a single biological organism, I saw two separate souls.' His eyes narrowed. 'Where you going with this, Amber?'
    She tried to frame her impossible question. 'Miles Fleming said I possessed part of the living brain of a dead person. Could I still possess that person's soul too?'
    Riga frowned and swirled the wine in his glass.
    She continued, 'What if Ariel's soul has not been allowed to die because part of her mind still lives in me? What if, after all these years, she's using headaches and dreams somehow to contact me - to get me to release her?'
    The frown deepened.
    'Papa Pete? Say something. I know it sounds crazy but I've got to know what you think.'
    'My child, I don't know what to say. This isn't something to which I can give a quick answer. I've seen too many things in my years as a priest to know that - particularly in view of how uniquely close your relationship was with Ariel. Ancient philosophers right up to Descartes believed that human consciousness, or the soul, resided in the brain.' Riga tapped his head. 'Even gave the exact location. Said it was in the pineal gland. But what you just said is so ... unusual that I've got no instant spiritual, philosophical or rational response. I need to give it more thought.' He sat back in his chair. 'But you really think Ariel's still alive somehow? What's this Dr Fleming guy say?'
    Amber shrugged. 'He's smart and I like him, but he's a scientist and not really interested in theoretical stuff. He wants practical solutions, doesn't like things he can't explain, and he sure as hell doesn't believe in an afterlife. He's promised to examine everything when I return, but I know he's convinced that I just had a dream.'
    'Being practical ain't always so bad,' said Riga.
    'Look, Amber, I return to Rome tomorrow, and I'll give it some more thought. Anyway, see what Fleming says and call me with any news. I'm sure there'll be a rational medical explanation.'
    'I hope so,' said Amber, pushing the wine bottle towards him.
    Riga placed a hand over his glass. 'Not for me, thanks. I suddenly got a headache.'
    black granite slab beside the gatehouse. The words etched into it in silver read:
    *
    Optrix Industries.

The next day
    In the morning Amber felt more optimistic as she drove across the Bay Bridge to Optrix's Berkeley headquarters. Talking to her mother and Papa Pete had encouraged her to believe that Fleming and his NeuroTranslator would indeed find a rational cause for her problem.
    Yet as she sat in the insulated cocoon of the Mercedes, it didn't seem so impossible that some vestige of Ariel, the wave state of her metaphysical consciousness, might still exist in the particle state of the shared section of their physical brain. At a level she couldn't articulate, Amber still felt that her headaches might be a symptom of a greater malaise, and that to cure her Fleming would have to do more than use his NeuroTranslator to exorcize her phantom pain. He had somehow to understand her connection with Ariel.
    As she put her foot on the gas and the Bay Bridge receded in the rear-view mirror, she could see the dark glass tower of Optrix Industries loom into view, gleaming like a pillar of polished ebony. As she approached the imposing gates she turned to the Optrix Industries Optoelectronics Research Headquarters. Let There Be Light.
    The guard waved her through on to the campus and she parked by one of two ultraviolet-proof colonnades that allowed visitors to