March 7th 2664

It was an unusually sunny day in the middle of a usually rainy month. A ray of sunlight filtered through the leaves as if through a pinhole camera, creating leafy shadows on the ground. My wife and I went to a park near our house, where magenta geraniums grew on the sides of a long cobblestone path on which our neighbors walked their spoiled pets. There was a concession stand selling pink lemonade and roasted chestnuts, perfect snacks to share with loved ones.

"Why don't you like Linda? She's the nicest and yet you're still holding on to your skepticism," Moira asked as we watched the neighborhood children chased after each other. "Do you distrust her just because we don't know her very well yet? But almost everyone we have ever known in our lives started out as strangers to us, right, Nardho?" she put her hand on top of mine.

"Linda seems sketchy to me," I answered. "Maybe it's her smile. It looks insincere. I don't know, it's hard to explain gut feelings. Hey, honey, would you object if we look up her credentials? I want to know what her qualifications are and if her company has good reputation."

"You sound a lot like a human resource manager scouting for talents to recruit," Moira laughed but then abruptly stopped as she realized I was not kidding. "Well, it's not unlawful to look at somebody else's curriculum vitae if they put it publicly on professional networking platforms."

"Anyone can make themselves look great on their profiles," I replied. "What I mean is that I want to find out who else work in the same company Linda is in and then stealthily gauge whether they have good opinions about that woman. For that, I might have to go undercover."

"You want to play detective?" Moira asked, hesitation laced her voice. "It's one thing to be curious about somebody else's portfolio, it's another thing to be a spy. I'm not against you wanting to investigate, but I don't want you to be reckless in your investigation. Don't do anything illegal like stalking or sneaking in, Nardho, you're not that kind of person, are you?"

"Nope, I'm not planning to snoop around like a sleuth." I grinned. "When we finally go to Linda's laboratory I plan to strike up conversations with her coworkers, befriend them so to speak. Once they see me as a friend I'll ask those coworkers more about Linda, posing my questions as innocent curiosity about our mutual acquaintance. Office gossips, got me?"

"Okay, good luck with that." Moira still sounded reluctant. "Hopefully her coworkers would not think you're a weirdo sticking his nose in things that are none of his business. I hope they'll sympathize with you and just think you're an overly concerned husband, which you are."

"I'll make sure they see me favorably!" I promised. "Now, let's get some lemonade, I'm thirsty."

-----

The anticipated visit to the laboratory arrived and as we waited to be let in we stood by the huge welcome sign that said Orchidsboro Second Chances Pharmaceutical. The logo showed two winged humanoid figures whose wings morphed into tree branches. Underneath them, the slogan of the company proudly stated Health is Wealth. For some reason it felt strangely ominous to me.

"What's wrong? Nervous?" Moira wrapped her fingers around mine and squeezed my palm gently. "Oh, you don't really like their tagline?" she asked once she knew what I was looking at.

"It's probably just me but that sounds nefarious, like they're admitting in the open that they make money off of diseases," I shrugged. "Couple that with the tree imagery and it's like they're growing money on a tree, the tree being this corporation. How ingenious."

"Ingenious? That's sarcasm, right?" Moira chuckled. "You're overthinking. If you ask me it's a perfect slogan, maybe their way of saying that health is precious and that's why they're developing drugs to help people stay healthy. Plus, their name is literally second chances."

I wanted to argue back but then noticed Linda in the distance coming our way, accompanied by three other people who I assumed must be her fellow researchers. The gate swung open and Linda flashed us her signature smile before handing out what seemed to be identification cards.

"Keep these cards with you at all times," she said. "You'll need them to get access to my workspace and if you lose them then I can't guarantee I can get you a replacement quickly."

The foyer of the building Linda brought us to was full of information boards displaying the history, vision, and mission of the pharmaceutical company. I could not read everything in just one cursory glance but from what little I could read I learned that the company had been around for the last five decades and was at first specializing in finding a cure for Alzheimer's before expanding into researching other forms of similar disorders. Fifteen years ago, they won a generous endowment from an anonymous benefactor to begin research on the possibility of using dreams to unlock repressed memories in middle-aged patients with severe memory loss.

All the rooms we passed by had large glasses that allowed us to see what the workers were doing. Behind those glasses were men and women bending over microscopes, checking petri dishes, adjusting flasks of colorful liquids on a Bunsen burner, or writing on clipboards. It came as a surprise, then, when Linda made a beeline toward a room with no windows whatsoever.

"This is the Dream Chamber!" she beamed. "The reason it has no windows has to do with privacy. Dreams are highly private to the dreamers, right? So, whatever is going on in this room stays in this room. We have had some volunteers, yes, but we had them sign written contracts specifying that we can use recordings of their dreams to improve the functionality of our dream recorder. Even then, their dreams are password-protected so that nobody else but they themselves and my team of researchers can replay the recordings."

"That's reassuring," Moira chimed in. "Thank you for ensuring those dreams are secured under layers of protection. By the way, does your dream recorder have a name?"

"We call it Somnodora, from the Latin root somnolentia, of course. It has not been patented yet because it is still undergoing clinical trials, but we're working on getting a patent."

"Good to know," I nodded. "Last time we talked you mentioned it has a glitch that makes it stop recording while the dreamer is still dreaming. Has the glitch been resolved since?"

"Oh, yes!" Linda exclaimed. "We figured we just needed stronger electrodes to accurately detect speech and movement in the dreams via the dreamers' muscle activities. So, we installed a more powerful functional magnetic resonance imaging machine and combined it with infrared sensor. We then put muscle activity detectors on the dreamers' lips and throats, as well as their limbs. People don't move in their sleep or act out what happen in their dreams, true, but their brains still send signal to their muscles as if they're moving in real life."

"That's magnificent!" Moira clapped. "So, let's say a dog is dreaming about chasing its own tail. Do the muscles in its tail get signals to wag at the same time the dog wags in its dream?"

"Yup, but the dog's body in real life would still be paralyzed," Linda explained as she unlocked the door to the Dream Chamber. "Speaking of dogs, here comes my sweet and smart pooches!"

As soon as the door was opened, two golden retriever puppies ran out and pawed at us. Linda scooped them up and handed one to Moira, who squealed in delight and made baby noises.

"You wanna hold the other one, Nardho?" Linda offered. "He doesn't bite. Wait, you're not allergic to dogs, are you? Neesa told me about your weak immune system when we discussed letting you and your wife around lab puppies. I have some allergy medicines just in case."

"She does?" I cocked my head. "Well, tell her I said a million thanks for being thoughtful. Dogs are okay, though, the animals I'm allergic to are cats but even then the symptoms are mild."

"That's a relief," Linda exhaled. "That puppy Moira's holding is Roscoe and the other one is Baxter. They've both been specially trained to live in a laboratory setting, which means they know how to behave and will not, for example, bark incessantly when they get startled."

"Nice to meet you, Baxter and Roscoe," I smiled at the puppies. "Linda, would you mind if I ask you to demonstrate what puppies see in their dreams? I'm curious if they dream in colors."

"Dogs see differently than people," she said as she petted Baxter. "Their perception of colors are muted and they can only see in shades of yellow, blue, and grey. I can give you a demonstration, no problem!" she then turned to one of her colleagues. "Keith, prepare the Somnodora."

Keith bowed and went to work hooking the golden retrievers to cables and wires connected to an overhead television before injecting them with what must be melatonin. The retrievers' eyelids drooped and a moment later we heard their soft snores. Keith pushed a button on the Somnodora and the television let out a static sound before an image came into focus.

The monitor showed Linda giving Baxter and Roscoe some commands ranging from rolling over, handshake, lying down, playing dead, and staying. Both dogs followed the commands without making any fuss and their owner showered them with compliments and treats.

"Is this just a dream or did this actually happen in their waking lives at some point?" Moira asked. "This is the puppies' memories, right? They remember what you train them to do, then?"

"Yup, this dream reflects their memories." Linda's smile grew wider. "I've been teaching them some classic dog tricks and it appears their brains retain hours of the obedience training."

"But apparently this is an accumulation of many memories instead of just a single, specific, episodic memory, am I correct?" Moira spoke up again. "Do you think there is a way to tell where one memory ends and another memory begins in this dream?"

"Hard to tell with puppies," Linda sighed. "Animals do tend to lump their memories together instead of compartmentalizing them based on where the events happened or what they were doing in those memories. Humans, however, are generally able to categorize their memories into, for instance, happy ones and sad ones or silly ones and embarrassing ones."

"May I volunteer to have you access my memories?" I pondered aloud. "I want to know how far they can go. I wonder if they can go as far as my early childhood. Do you think I can dream of events I have long forgotten? Can we use dreams as a tool to recall whatever we forget about?"

"You can certainly volunteer," Linda answered as she woke the puppies up and untangled the cables they were hooked to. "But I can't promise that you will dream of yourself as a child."

"That's okay, that's what I'm testing," I said. "If it works on me, maybe it can work on Moira."

I wasn't lying, I really hoped the Somnodora would work flawlessly on humans. A part of me, however, was scared of how deep into our brains the device could probe. Too deep of a dive wouldn't be desirable, would it? We all have unpleasant memories we would rather not touch.

"Please hop on to the mattress and just relax," Keith the assistant said as he handed me some sleeping pills and a glass of water. "These electrodes won't hurt but they can feel cold on your skin. It's normal and the cold won't last more than just a few seconds."

I swallowed the pills and closed my eyes, focusing on a memory I wanted to recall. My siblings' faces came to my mind and I felt my consciousness slipping away as I got drowsier.

"Mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc et in hora mortis nostrae, amen."

The church my family attended was always packed but on Ash Wednesday it became even more crowded as the congregation all wanted to get blessings from the priest. Nardhia and I were seated with our parents on the long bench, listening to the choir group singing. Sixteen-year-old Johan was a member of the choir and he was extremely proud of his position as one of the tenor singers. He tried to get my sister and me to join him but I didn't enjoy singing and my twin didn't enjoy memorizing songs in a foreign language, much less one that had not been in use for centuries. I didn't blame her, you couldn't expect a six-year-old to be interested in that.

Once the Mass was over and we all returned home, mom and dad asked us to help Johan pack up for his departure to Red Sycamore. He won a scholarship to study xenobiology and would begin his first year of college soon. Nardhia had spent months begging him to just go to another college in our own planet but he laughed her off each time. As the beginning of a new academic year inched closer, however, she had stopped pleading with him but did appear sadder.

"When you finally become a freshman, you will miss us, right, Johan?" I asked while bouncing on his bed. My brother picked me up and I threw my arms around his shoulders while Nardhia tugged on his sleeve, wanting to be picked up too. He chuckled and pat her head affectionately.

"Will you be mad if I don't?" Johan grinned mischievously, his dimples appearing. Nardhia rolled her eyes and I groaned before lightly punching his shoulders. He didn't punch back.

"I'm joking. Of course I'll miss you little rascals terribly!" He messed up her long, curly hair.

"Who are you calling rascals?" Nardhia pouted. "You're so mean. I'm telling mom."

"Ha, mom's on my side, kiddo!" Johan grinned again. "Who do you think gave you those nicknames first? If you don't want to be called rascals then don't behave like one."

"Lies!" Nardhia cried in exasperation. "Nardho, we're good kids, right? Say something."

"Okay, so, who is more of a rascal, me or her? And who will you miss more?" I jumped down from Johan's lap and Nardhia immediately glared at me disapprovingly for my words.

"I will miss you both equally," Johan said as he tried unsuccessfully to stop my twin from pushing me to the floor. "Nardhia, what did Nardho do wrong? That's unkind."

"You guys are unkind!" she crossed her arms. "You for saying we're bad kids and him for saying you're going to miss one of us more than the other. Unfair."

"You really need to learn to take a joke, sis." I said as I rubbed my left foot, which was stinging from hitting the floor. "It's clear that big bro is just messing with us. Come on, don't frown."

"I hate you!" Nardhia stormed off. "I'm gonna ask mom for a better twin and to get rid of you."

"That's...not how twins work." Johan giggled once she was out of earshot. "She knows you're the only twin she would ever have and she's stuck with you for life, right? But I'm not gonna tell her that, she's angry enough as it is. Maybe we need to say sorry, you and I."

"She doesn't really hate me, does she?" I stared at the door Nardhia slammed. "She doesn't want me to die, right? She looked like she was ready to get me killed."

"She's not serious, it's impossible to hate you," Johan pulled me into an embrace. "I bet you two will be back to being the best of friends tomorrow."

"Johan, about that song you sang at the church..." I tried to change the topic. "What does the last line translate to in our language? Teach me."

"Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Why?"

"I thought so but I wanted to be sure. Hey, what do you think being dead is like?"

"Depends on why we're dying, I suppose. Nardho, are you alright?" he embraced me tighter.

"I don't wanna go to hell because I fight with Nardhia and made her upset."

"Oh, man. No, God doesn't send little boys to hell for fighting. He understands you love Nardhia. If you're still worried, though, do you want to pray with me?"

"Y-Yes," I snuggled up to him and put my hands together. "Our Father who art in Heaven, glorified be thy name. Johan, He's listening, right?"

"Yup, finish your prayer," he nodded. "Thy kingdom come, thy will be done."

I woke up with my cheek wet. Tears? Was I crying in my sleep? But I didn't cry in my dream.

"You're awake. You scared me when you cried!" Moira helped me up. "You okay?"

"Yeah. So, did the Somnodora work? Could you see my dream?"

"We all did. It was a cute one," Linda chimed in. "You must be close with your siblings and subconsciously miss them. That's probably why you cried. When was the last time you saw them? Been a while, I would guess."

"I saw them last Christmas," I answered. "I don't think I've ever cried over missing them, though. No, it must be something else I miss. Maybe I miss being a child."

"Dreams can be useful to guide us into understanding ourselves," Linda stoked her chin. "From what I gather it seems you were pretty religious as a child. Are you still practicing or...?"

Bingo.

"I've been going back and forth between being pious and being a skeptic. Perhaps a part of me miss being confident in my faith like my older brother always is."

"Hm. Is his full name Johannes?" Linda tilted her head. "I used to know a man by that name."

"You did?" my jaw dropped. "Did you go to Blue Orchid University too?"

"No, but my late sister did and she used to date someone called Johannes."

"Yeah, I don't think that's Johan. My brother isn't into women, you see."

"Don't be so sure," Linda's eyes darkened. "Keith!" she beckoned her assistant. "It's my turn to use the Somnodora. I'll show this guy what his brother has done to my sister."