The Ishtar Institute was a small research hospital located in the hills west of Stanford. While it did admit some regular patients, it mostly existed to support the work of Dr. Vasilov, a neuroscientist who was privately funded by several Silicon Valley billionaires. There were only a few dozen physicians on staff, most of them neurologists or neurosurgeons. Although it was technically administered by a board of governors, in practice Dr. Vasilov ran the institute as his personal fief, making all hiring decisions and funding decisions himself.
Dr. Jane Reston was in her early thirties. She'd joined the institute only a few months before, shortly after completing her endocrinology residency at Cedars Sinai. Brilliant, intense, and driven, Dr. Reston was clearly a rising star in her field. She'd met Dr. Vasilov the previous year at a conference in Prague, and he'd extended a job offer to her shortly afterwards.
In many respects her position at the institute was a dream job--interesting cases, light rotations, a good salary. The only drawbacks were her colleagues.
Dr. Vasilov might have been a genius, but he wasn't particularly progressive in his hiring practices. There were only a handful of female physicians on staff, and many of Jane's male colleagues were blatantly sexist. They bragged about sleeping with nurses and compared notes about attractive female patients. Perhaps the worst was Kevin Stoddard, the staff gynecologist. He'd been at the institute only a few months longer than Jane had, but he was invariably condescending and patronizing whenever they had to interact.
It didn't help that Jane herself was slim and blonde and classically pretty. With her big blue eyes and fresh complexion, she looked ten years younger than she actually was--more like a first-year medical student than a senior physician. As a result, Jane was quite familiar with being talked down to by men who underestimated her. It wasn't fair, but sadly that was how the world worked. Jane had spent her whole life working longer and harder than the men around her in order to prove that she was their equal. At this point, it was just second nature.
Jane knew that Stoddard was attracted to her. She had often caught him staring at her legs on days when she wore a skirt. To be honest, he wasn't bad-looking himself. He had kind of brooding, brutish appeal. If he hadn't been such an asshole, Jane could imagine that something might have happened between them
* * *
It was late on a Friday afternoon and Jane was just about to head home after a long shift, when she checked in on Erica Andrews. Erica had been a biochemist at the institute until she had left on maternity leave. Now she was back temporarily as a patient. Her pregnancy was almost full-term, and when Jane entered the room, Erica was standing at the window with one hand resting on her full round belly. She was looking out at the scrubby Northern California hills. She was also completely naked.
Taken aback, Jane said "Uh, Erica, is everything okay ...?"
"I'm just more comfortable this like this," the other woman said. She gestured dismissively at the discarded hospital gown on the bed. "Those things are so revealing, there's no point anyway."
"Let me just check your vitals and I'll be out of here," Jane said.
Quickly she took Erica's temperature and measured her blood pressure. Both were totally normal. She was just about to ask if the expectant mother had any concerns when she was interrupted by a sharp rap on the door and Kevin Stoddard entered.
"Dr. Stoddard!" Jane said.
"Dr. Reston," the male gynecologist replied curtly. "Could you leave me alone with my patient. Your assistance is neither needed nor desired."
Jane slipped quietly out of the room. As the door closed behind her, she caught a glimpse of Erica lying on flat her back in bed with her legs spread. Stoddard was standing over her.
Disconcerted, she hurried off down the corridor, her tennis shoes making rapid squeaks on the polished floor.
Turning a corner, she almost ran headlong into a tall figure in a white lab coat.
"Oh! Dr. Vasilov!" Jane exclaimed. "Sorry!"
"Dr. Reston," the head of the institute said. "I hope you're settling in well."
"Just fine, sir. It's a real pleasure working here."
"Good, good, glad to hear it. Listen, would you be able to join me and some of the other senior staff in the auditorium for a few minutes? We've had an exciting breakthrough in the lab, and I think you may be able to provide us with some valuable insights ... if you don't have previous plans, that is."
Jane took only a moment to consider. Eating a microwave dinner in front of the television could wait. This was a huge opportunity! She spoke slowly, careful not to reveal her excitement in being singled out.
"I'd be happy to help, Dr. Vasilov."
"Excellent! We'll gather at the top of the hour. Thank you, my dear. Your presence will be invaluable."
He'd called her invaluable! Jane's heart fluttered in her chest. Her last few months of diligent work had certainly paid off.
Her only regret was that she didn't have time to change into something more professional. She was still dressed in scrubs from doing her rounds. Oh, well, Jane thought. Vasilov had invited her to the meeting for her professional expertise, not her fashion sense.
* * *
The auditorium was small, maybe thirty seats total, with a raised stage at the front. Tonight, the stage was empty except for an examination table and a lectern with a microphone. Jane scanned the room. Half-a-dozen of her senior colleagues were scattered among the open seats. Stoddard was already there, seated in back, looking bored. Carefully avoiding making eye contact, Jane made her way to the front, as far away from him as possible, and took a seat next to a young internist named Ben Valentine.
Unlike most of the other men at the institute, Ben was a pleasure to work with. He was respectful and didn't condescend when he spoke to her. Plus, he was kind of cute, with sandy blond hair and a wry smile that Jane found irresistible.
She'd actually flirted with him once or twice, but nothing unprofessional.
In any case, tonight he was glad to see her, and nodded a greeting.
"Dr. Reston."
Jane nodded back.
"Dr. Valentine."
A few more people drifted in. Then an orderly wearing white scrubs stepped out onto the stage and tapped the microphone. When he'd confirmed it was working, he gave a thumbs-up offstage, and Dr. Vasilov entered from the wings. He was tall and thin, with steel-gray hair and a hawk-like nose. He cleared his voice to quiet the audience, then launched into his presentation.
The topic was a new drug called protheramine. The institute's lab had achieved a major breakthrough in the delivery mechanism. They had invented a new technique for transporting the large molecules of the compound across the blood-barrier barrier. Dr. Vasilov explained that for the first time, significant quantities the drug could be delivered to specific areas of the brain, particularly the hypothalamus and the frontal lobe.
Jane raised her hand. "Does that mean protheramine can be used to moderate emotional state and memory formation as well as conscious behavior?"
Vasilov nodded. "Well-observed, Dr. Reston. Yes, you are precisely correct. Even a small dose markedly increases the patient's openness to suggestion at both the conscious and unconscious levels."
Dr. Vasilov fielded several other questions, but Jane wasn't paying attention. Her mind was racing as she considered the implications. This would revolutionize the treatment of a wide variety of mood disorders. It was like gaining access to a control panel connected directly to a patient's memories and emotions.
"And now," Vasilov said. "I'd like to move on to a brief illustration of how protheramine can be used in a clinical setting."
He held up a small vial. "I have here several tablets of protheramine. Even a dose as small as 20 milligrams is sufficient to produce a therapeutic effect. If I could have a volunteer from the audience, I'll demonstrate ... perhaps you, Dr. Reston?"
The sound of her name startled Jane out of her thoughts. Everyone in the auditorium was looking at her. Dr. Vasilov was standing at the edge of the stage with his hand extended. Her first impulse was to decline, but she couldn't think of any way to do so gracefully. And so, she found herself being escorted by the orderly up onto the stage.
"Allow me to reassure you, Dr. Reston," Vasilov said as he tipped a single pill out of the vial into her palm. "We've run full clinical trials. Protheramine is perfectly safe. A dose this small will merely produce a mild psychoactive effect for about an hour. You're willing to endure that for the sake of science, I hope?"
Jane looked down at the pill. It was shaped like a tiny pink heart. She suppressed a flicker of apprehension and scanned the audience, taking in the expectant faces of her colleagues. Stoddard was smirking at her, but Ben gave her a thumbs up. There was no way to back out now without looking foolish.
"Certainly, Dr. Vasilov," she said. "If it's for science."
The orderly handed her a cup of water. Jane popped the pill in her mouth and swallowed it.
* * *
While they waited for the drug to take effect, Dr. Vasilov talked about the progress that had already been made toward bringing protheramine to market. The primary paperwork had already been filed. It was just a matter of time before FDA approval was granted.
Jane stood off to one side with her hands in the pockets of her lab coat, feeling rather silly. As far as she could tell, the drug wasn't affecting her at all. From Vasilov's description, she'd expected some lightheadedness, or maybe a mild sense of euphoria, but as the minutes ticked by, her mind remained perfectly clear and sharp. She started to wonder if maybe Vasilov had given her a placebo by mistake.
Dr. Vasilov glanced at his watch. "Five minutes should be more than sufficient. How are you feeling, Dr. Reston?"
Jane smiled sheepishly. "I'm afraid I'm not experiencing any effects at all, Dr. Vasilov. Perhaps the dose was too small ...?"
Dr. Vasilov shook his head. "Oh no, it was quite adequate, my dear. Raise your right arm, please."
Jane lifted her arm and held it straight out to the side at shoulder height.
"You see, gentlemen," Dr. Vasilov said. "The protheramine has completely suppressed our volunteer's resistance to suggestion. For as long as the drug in in her system, she will remain conscious and alert, but follow commands as though deeply hypnotized."
Jane barely suppressed a laugh. "I'm sorry, Dr. Vasilov, but you
asked
me to raise my arm, so I did. It wasn't the protheramine."
Dr. Vasilov ignored her and continued to address the audience. "Note that our volunteer is not even aware that she's in a suggestible state. When a patient is under the influence of protheramine, any external suggestion feels like a conscious choice."
Jane frowned. If this was a joke at her expense, it wasn't funny. "This is ridiculous! I've been hypnotized before and I know what that feels like. I'm not hypnotized."
"I didn't say you were hypnotized, my dear. Only that you're in a state of heightened suggestibility that resembles hypnosis. Now, lift your other arm as well."
