'Armless

Arms, he thought, are a real pain.

It was three in the morning and Doctor Jacob Schlink had been tossing and turning in bed for the last half hour. It was the same story every single night. Or, at least, it felt that way. He would wake up, do the things one normally did when awake in the middle of the night and then return to bed, close his eyes, sigh deeply, relax and…

Fail to return to sleep.

It was the arms. Useful they maybe. After all, without arms and hands, where would the human race be now? Nowhere, that’s where. Look at the Tyrannosaurus Rex: an enormous, vicious killing machine. Think how much more dangerous it would have been if it had arms that were in proportion to its size, rather than those tiny, little stubby things. So, undoubtedly, arms were useful. But they really got in the way sometimes.

These thoughts all went through Doctor Schlink’s mind as he lay in bed that Thursday night – or rather, Friday morning – tossing and turning. He would get comfortable on his left side, except for his left arm which was twisted awkwardly. So, he’d move his arm, which meant that the rest of him moved and he wasn’t comfortable any more. So, he moved it again. Now, his arm was resting across his chest, which was nice and comfortable but, quickly got sweaty and hot. So, he’d flip over to his right side. He knew this manoeuvre was pointless, but he did it nonetheless. He could never get to sleep on his right side. For some reason, it had to be the left. But, still, he gave it the good, old-fashioned college try. But now, as well as feeling disoriented by lying on the wrong side, his right arm was giving him gyp,. So, he turned on to his back. That, at least was comfortable. He lay back and concentrated on relaxing. First, the legs. Starting from the toes, on up past the calves to his knees. Yes, that was working. But, his arms started to intrude again. Should he lie them on the bed or across his chest? That made him tense up again as he tried putting them in various different positions. After a while, he gave up and started again on his left side.

The next morning, he was sitting at his desk in the Schlink Institute for Physiology and Neurology, nursing a cup of strong, black coffee and a pounding headache. There was a knock at the door and he grunted. The person on the other side of the door obviously took the grunt as an acknowledgement, because the door swung open.

The person who came through the door was an attractive young woman. She had long, brown hair and a short, black skirt. Between the two was a standard issue, white lab coat. Pinned to the left breast pocket of the coat was a badge. The badge identified the woman as Catherine Nichols, a student at SIPN. She was actually one of Doctor Schlink’s students and she was his favourite, for various reasons, only some of which were to do with her intellect (which was of a prodigious size. Doctor Schlink was sure that he could see her in his seat behind his desk in years to come. That was when he wasn’t thinking about her being in his bed in evenings to come.)

“Good morning, Doctor Schlink,” she said, brightly.

Doctor Schlink groaned again.

“Heavy night, Doctor Schlink? You really should lay off the booze,” she teased.

“I was not drinking,” Doctor Schlink muttered. “I just didn’t sleep very well.”

Catherine sat down, her face taking on a sympathetic look.

“Why not?” she asked. “Is there anything wrong.”

“Nothing, thank you for asking.” Doctor Schlink replied, perking up at the thought of the woman taking an interest in his sleeping habits. “I just woke up and had difficulty getting back to sleep. I tossed and turned for hours, but I couldn’t get my arms into a comfortable position.”

“Oh, yeah. I get that some times,” Catherine agreed. “It’s a real pain, isn’t it? I hate lying in bed, trying to sleep, but failing miserably.”

Doctor Schlink was very awake now. He couldn’t believe it. She was now telling him about her sleeping habits. He almost blurted out a question about what she wore to sleep in, but managed to stop himself. It was, perhaps, a little unprofessional.

“Sometimes, I wish I could just detach my arms.”

Doctor Schlink stared at the young woman across the desk from him, as a sudden realisation flooded over him.

“Catherine, you are a genius,” he told her.

Unsurprisingly, this outburst came as something of a surprise to her.

“What do you mean?” she asked cautiously.

“A large part of the Institute’s study is about the re-attachment of limbs, is it not?”

“Yeeees…” Catherine was starting to get a glimmer of understanding. She wasn’t sure she was entirely happy with where it was going.

“We are able to keep unattached limbs alive for days, aren’t we?”

“Well, yes we are. But…”

“So, all we need is a way to harmlessly remove a limb, without trauma or blood loss and we’ll be set!”

“Set?” This came out quite weakly, she was still finding it difficult to believe what her mentor was suggesting.

“Thousands, if not millions, of people must suffer from this arm-induced insomnia. If we can work out a way to overcome the problem then the increase in health, happiness and efficiency will be immeasurable. When you came in, I was feeling terrible – miserable and in no fit state to do anything. If we did this, I’d be able to retire and your name would be made!”

Catherine was starting to see the advantages to this idea. After all, Doctor Schlink was a certified genius, even if she wasn’t really – although she was very, very close to that position. It sometimes takes a genius to see a truth where others only see a problem. If Doctor Schlink said it would work and would also make her name then who was she to argue.

“Okay, Doctor. I’ll do it,” she said with conviction.

“Please Catherine. Call me Jacob.”

The next few months took on a strange, dream-like quality for Catherine. She had never thought that research would was going to be this simple. Admittedly, the actual work was ridiculously complicated, but the garnering of funds and equipment was effortless. Anything she thought might need appeared almost immediately.

This is the benefits of working with the Institute Director on his first serious research project for years, she thought.

Of course, her fellow students were desperately jealous and wanted to know what it was the two of them were working on the permanently locked laboratory. But, she had been sworn to secrecy. If the wrong person found out, Doctor Schlink – Jacob – had told her, then it could all be over for them. If someone else made the discovery before they did, they would be lost. Nobody, except Scott of the Antarctic ever became famous for being second.

Every so often, Catherine would start to question the wisdom of the research, but then Jacob would come in to the lab looking like death warmed up. There were even a couple of nights when she herself had a bad nights sleep. Whichever one it was who failed to sleep, it always acted as a spur to their research. Once they broke the problem of disconnecting a limb without pain and the re-connecting it again, also without pain or the need for a long stay in hospital, well, the world would be their oyster,

Of course, saying it and doing it were two totally different things. But, Jacob was confident of an almost imminent breakthrough, practically from the first week. It was his unshakeable belief that what they were attempting was actually possible, that kept the two of them working together, side by side, late in to the night and over weekends and holidays.

Eventually, they managed to produce a computer simulation of the process. It involved shutting down all the nerve connection, closing the veins and arteries and putting microscopic caps over each and every cell before carefully disconnecting the tissues. In theory and according to the simulations, it should be possible to make the limb and the torso keep thinking they were attached and so, when they were actually re-attached, they would bind together, the caps joining the cells together again, unnoticeably and painlessly.

Catherine was slightly dubious but, a few weeks later, she was forced to accept it when she a saw a tissue sample in a petri dish go through the operation and come out of it perfect – intact and unharmed.

They went out for dinner that night to celebrate. Jacob was astounded when he saw her wearing a burgundy, velvet dress that accentuated her figure perfectly, rather than the white lab coat and black mini-skirt she usually wore. He spent the whole evening feeling like a love-struck teenager rather than a love-struck seventy-two year old. Catherine thought his quietness was due to being over-tired from the exertions and excitement of the day. After all, he was seventy-two.

As soon as she arrived the next morning, head throbbing a little from a mild hangover, Catherine could tell that Jacob had had another bad night. If anything, he actually looked worse than he normally did after a nights sleeplessness.

“Not to worry,” she told him, cheerfully. “We’re on the home stretch now. We’ve got the lab rats all ready to start testing.”

“Forget the lab rats,” Jacob pronounced.” We’re going to go straight on to testing humans.”

Catherine was shocked. Ever since she had started her research career, the correct methodology had been drilled into her. You left testing on humans as long as possible to try and iron out all the inevitable defects first. She started to stutter out her disagreement but Jacob put his hand up to stop her.

“I know what you’re going to say. I argued with myself for hours last night but I am completely convinced that there is no danger involved to life-or-ahem-limb by skipping the animal testing.”

“I don’t think we’ll find anyone to volunteer if any part of the study has been missed out,” Catherine objected.

“That doesn’t really matter, because I am putting myself forward as the test subject,” Jacob told her.

Once again, Catherine was stunned. This was totally unexpected. She knew she couldn’t allow it and said so, very firmly.

“I’m afraid that you have no option but to agree with me,” Jacob explained, equally firmly. “You see, I am the project leader.”

That was the other thing that had been drummed into her. The project leader’s word was law. And, after all, she reasoned, this was all down to his inability to get a good nights sleep, so it was inevitable he would be one of the first to benefit from the procedure. Why not the first?

So, whilst harbouring some very strong misgivings, she nodded her head in acquiescence.

The next few weeks were spent constructing the machine that would amputate, store and restore Jacobs arms for him.

This work was a lot less intense than the feverish research had been and Catherine actually found it rather dull. For her, the practical applications took second place to the thrill of proving a theory. So, she started to get back into the social life that she had shared with her fellow students. Of course, they were still intrigued to know what she had been working on with the ‘Great Man’ but she refused to tell them, saying only that if everything worked out as it should, they’d find out soon enough.

It was during these nights out with her friends that she started to become friendly with another student called Greg. Over the ensuing weeks, their friendship deepened and blossomed. Catherine certainly felt like she was falling in love with Greg and she was pretty certain that he felt the same way about her.

But still, the work continued and the secrecy actually increased. The prototype was slowly coming together. Parts of it were cobbled together from equipment that was already available. For example, the Institute had perfected and patented a device that would keep a limb alive almost indefinitely without having to place it into cryogenic stasis, which had been the usual procedure for dealing with disconnected body parts until that time.

The most difficult part of the machine to build was the capping mechanism. They had several problems in making sure that every nerve ending, blood vessel and cell that was split was capped and could also be uncapped. It also had to be quick. There was no point in doing it if it took up half the night to go through the process.

However, after several more months of hard work their goal was reached. These months also saw Catherine’s relationship with Greg grow and grow, so much so that on the odd occasion, Jacob would have to call her back from a daydream.

The prototype L.A.S.A.R. (which stood for Limb Amputation, Storage And Restoration) device was complete.

Catherine looked at it and felt a tingle of disappointment that it wasn’t nicer to look at. If she had that in her bedroom, she thought she’d not be able sleep it wit it looming over her, arms attached or not. Wires and tubes and circuit boards were everywhere, seemingly at random. Two sets of lasers, on spinning arms, set at shoulder height, topped the machine. All in all, it looked like some kind of armour, although Catherine couldn’t imagine the kind of battle that would call for it.

Carefully, the two of them transported it to Jacob’s car and laid it down. They drove to Jacob’s house and then pushed and pulled it up the stairs to his bedroom.

Jacob felt excited and pleased. Not only was his work nearing fruition but this was the first time Catherine had been inside his house, not to mention inside his bedroom. He knew that the time was approaching when he could declare his true feelings for her. Then he would get to see her in the flesh the way he had imagined her over and over again. He knew she had feelings for him – why else did she keep falling into a reverie whilst looking at him? Thinking about what she was thinking about made him sweat and blush, but he enjoyed the feeling.

“Okay, Catherine,” he said, leaning heavily against the L.A.S.A.R. and mopping his brow. “I’ll check the connections to ensure that nothing has come loose during transport. You don’t have to stick around. GO and relax, have a bath and something to eat. Or whatever it is you do when you’re not working.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Of course I am. Just be back here for ten P.M., so we can start the test.”

“Thanks, Jacob,” she said and, giving him a demure peck on the cheek, she nearly skipped out of the room.

As she walked down the street, she pulled out her mobile phone and pushed a speed-dial button.

“Hi, Greg, it’s me. How would you like to take me out for an early dinner?… No I have to do something with Jacob later on but maybe I’ll come over afterwards… No! Of course not. He’s sweet and brilliant, but he’s over seventy. I don’t suppose he could any more, even if he wanted to… Okay, six thirty then. ‘Bye. I love you.”

Jacob looked at the clock. It was twenty to eleven. She was late. This was so unlike Catherine. He hoped nothing had happened to her.

At last, the doorbell rang. Jacob got up and quickly went to the door. Opening it, he was presented with a perfect vision of loveliness. Catherine stood there, once again in her velvet dress, make-up nearly perfect. She seemed a little flushed and giggly as she came in.

“Sorry I’m late, Jacob, I got a little tied up.”

She giggled again.

Jacob hardly heard her, drinking in the sight of her.

“Not to worry, my dear. You’re here now. Shall we get started?”

With an almost physical jerk, Catherine managed to throw off her giggliness and regain her professionalism.

“Yes, of course, Jacob.”

She followed him upstairs. Once in his bedroom, he suddenly became shy. After all this work, he was going to have to take his dressing gown off and reveal his sunken, seventy-three year old chest and paunchy, seventy-three year old belly to the woman of his dreams. He looked across at her, to see her slipping on the lab coat she had left behind earlier on. She looked at him quizzically.

“Anything wrong, Jacob?” she asked with a slightly worried tone.

“No, no, nothing at all,” he replied with an enforced heartiness that he didn’t really feel and dropped his dressing gown to the floor.

Carefully, he stepped into the centre of the L.A.S.A.R. and placed his arms through the rings of lasers. He felt his heart begin to pound as Catherine carefully placed the probes on his skin, ran through the final checks and punched in the final commands on the computer.

“Ready?” she asked, finger poised over the ‘Enter’ key.

Jacob took a deep breath, closed his eyes and said “yes.”

He felt warmth on his upper arms as the lasers stabbed down, taking exact measurements, deep into the structure of his limbs. Bands wrapped themselves around the biceps and triceps and, suddenly, he could no longer feel his arms. He glanced down and saw them slowly pulling down and away from his body.

Mere minutes later, he was released from the L.A.S.A.R. and stepped out of it, shaky from excitement, triumphant and armless.

Catherine came over to him and gently probed the rubber-covered stumps.

“How does that feel?” she asked.

“Fine. No pain. No sensation at all in fact.”

She smiled at him and gave him a big hug.

“It’s a success, Jacob,” she said excitedly.

“Not yet,” he replied, trying to hold his own excitement down and only partially succeeding. “We still have the re-attachment procedure to go through.”

“I know, it’ll be okay. After a wonderful day like today, nothing can ever go wrong again.”

“I agree, it’s a major breakthrough, but I think you’re overstating things a little, Catherine,” Jacob told her.

“It’s not just this… I promised I wouldn’t say anything, but I’ve got to. I’m bursting with it! Greg asked me to marry him!”

Jacob looked at her.

“Who’s Greg?” he asked darkly, all thoughts of his arms being driven out of his mind.

“My boyfriend. My fiancé,” she said. “I’ve told you about him millions of times.”

“You’ve mentioned a friend called Greg. I didn’t think it was serious.”

Catherine stared at Jacob, wondering what was wrong.

“We’re very serious. We love each other, we’re going to get married and have babies.”

Jacob stared back at her, hardly believing his ears. This was all wrong, she loved him, not… Greg.

“I think you’re making a mistake,” he said, quickly. “Have you thought about the effect having babies will have on your career?”

Even as he said it, he knew he was saying the wrong thing.

“I am perfectly capable of having a career and children, Doctor Schlink,” she explained, coldly.

“Do you really? Do you think you’ll be able to put in fifteen hour days when you’ve got a brat screaming for attention?” He knew he was being harsh, cruel, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“If you don’t need me anymore, Doctor,” Catherine said. “I’ll make my way out and see you tomorrow morning.”

She turned and walked out. At the threshold to the bedroom, she turned and looked at him.

“Sleep well,” she said, bitterly.

She slammed the door shut and Jacob heard her running down the stairs, followed by the slam of the front door.

Jacob started to go after her, got to the bedroom door and stopped. He kicked at it a couple of times, tried to get his toes around the door knob and then gave up. He went and sat on the bed, feeling his nervousness slowly rising. Catherine didn’t have a key. How was she planning on getting back in, in the morning?

All of this was suddenly overshadowed by a deeper, stronger feeling. Doctor Jacob Schlink was suddenly and, quite desperately, in need of the toilet.