Accessing Patricia
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Part 1

He was a nobody. A laboratory assistant in the testing area at the back of the Padonox complex – a rat wrangler – a tissue slicer. He was unimportant, and he was working in an area where nobody would have known, even if he had been of any interest at all. But he wanted to get ahead. When he had the chance to be important, he decided to take that chance.

The stroke had been kept secret. Had anybody known that Patricia Donoghue, the brilliant mind behind all the advances at Padonox, lay in a coma in that secret testing area, stock prices might have crashed. Ray Underhill knew that, and so did others in the Senior Leadership Team, including Dr. Hans Meissen.

“The thing that we know is that her brain is active,” said Hans. “We can see the brain activity on the EEG. It is so busy we can almost hear her screaming to be free of her body, which has lost all motor function and only remains alive through machinery. The parts of her brain that can act on her body are damaged beyond repair, but there is so much information that is vital to our work that only exists inside what is left of her brain.”

“If only we could access her brain,” said Ray. “Can we do that? Can we decode those brainwaves some-how? Can we download it onto a hard drive?”

“Human to cyber interface is the stuff of science fiction,” said Hans. “But human to human is something that Patricia herself was working on. She was getting old. It was almost as if she could foresee this stroke. Perhaps there was a family history of brain clots. She never said. But she was looking at the transfer of brain data as a way of preserving it. Perhaps it was for herself - to possibly continue her life in another body if she could find a suitable young woman to volunteer.”

“Can it be done?” Are there risks?” These were the kinds of question Hans had come to expect from Ray. Patricia had been demanding and sometimes dismissive of him. Ray needed him.

“Possibly and definitely are the answers to those questions,” said Hans. “The risks are the death of Patri-cia and the volunteer, or more likely that both of their brains will be adversely affected.”

Perhaps it was fate, but at that moment, this young technician appeared to change an oxygen bottle, or something. The two leaders looked at one another without speaking, and nodded.

“Your name is Tyler – am I correct?” said Hans. “You have been with us for some time – yes? That is why we have already trusted you with knowledge of our situation.” Hans gestured towards the hyperbaric chamber that contained the body of the old woman.

“Yes, Sir,” said Tyler. “She was a great lady. Such a tragedy. Such an amazing intellect.”

“Exactly,” said Hans. “I wonder whether you would be prepared to assist us in recovering something of that? Some technology exists for us to access her brain, but it/ must be human to human. It is experi-mental, so there are risks, but we would need a volunteer – somebody young and fit, such as yourself.” Hans did not mention Tyler’s key qualification – expendability.

“Are you suggesting that I might be able to access her knowledge? Or even just a small piece of it? What an incredible thought,” marveled Tyler out loud. “I mean, I have a master’s degree, but I’m nowhere near her capacity. What risks are we talking about?”

“It’s experimental,” said Hans. “We don’t know the risks, but in those circumstances, perhaps you should assume the worst. But we have a massive vested interest in accessing the data, and so your survival and full functioning would be our priority.”

Tyler may have been a nobody, but he did have that degree, and it had got him nowhere. He knew enough to know that he did not know enough. The possibility of accessing the brain of a true genius, even if just for a moment, presented all kinds of possibilities, and seemed worth taking a risk.

“Will I need to sign something?” he asked.

Ray reached out a hand to the young man and smiled. The science was beyond Ray's understanding, but he knew that knowledge is money, and lost knowledge carried the risk of serious loss. He had work to do to ensure that the family of this man had no right to legal action against the company or its officers, in-cluding himself.

“Thank you for taking this on,” he said, shaking Tyler’s hand. “Of course, Panadox will owe you. Rights will need to be recorded. But rest assured you will be safe. We will do our best to make this a success.”

And they needed to act quickly. How long could Patricia’s brain remain as active as the EEG continued to say it was? The documents were prepared and signed that very day, and Tyler was released to go home for the night in his modest apartment near the complex. The following morning Tyler reported early and was soon wearing the woven elastic cap over his head with 186 receptors arranged. Each of these was connected to the same number and pattern on Patricia’s head, although those sensors were linked to wires directly into her cerebrum.

Hans sat by her but called out across the room to where Tyler sat, still a little bewildered by the pace of the exercise and his lack of reluctance. It seemed to him that the downside was hardly worth contem-plating.

“Are you ready, Tyler?” called Hans. Then he whispered in the ear of the unconscious Patricia. “Come on Pat. Stay with us. We need you. Dump it all into the kid. Everything you have. Use him to do everything you wanted to achieve before time ran out.”

The EEG machine leapt into life. Hans could see the mass of jumping lines across four screens, and the large “heat map” screen of her brain intending to show brain activity as yellow and orange against blue seemed to turn bright red as if her brain was about to explode.

He looked across at Tyler who stared impassively towards him as if to ask whether the transfer was under way. As far as Hans was concerned he should be awash with information.

“Are you alright there, Tyler?” he called out.

“Yeah. Fine. Is it happening?” said Tyler. “I do feel something, though. I feel angry and I don’t know why.”

Hans smiled. It was happening. That was her. In his own way he loved her. She was old and she was angry a lot of the time, but she was brilliant, and he was proud to work under her, even with her abuse of him. All genius comes with energy, and not all energy is positive.

He sat back a little and watched as Patricia’s brain ran hot, and then slowly the red faded to orange, yellow then green. Her body convulsed a little. He looked across at the other screen – the one with her vital signs. A toned-down alarm was sounding. Her heart was missing beats; her pulse was slowing; her blood pressure was dropping off. Hans felt that she could not last much longer, but still her brain had only a few spots of dark blue – meaning total lack of brain activity.

He looked at Tyler again. He had spoken of anger, but he saw only confusion on the young man’s face. Perhaps he was the wrong subject? He needed to at least have the intellectual capacity to process what-ever had been delivered. Did he have that? He looked vacant. It was not encouraging. And yet this was it. It seemed like her brain was spent – slowly turning blue.

“Anything Tyler?” he called out.

“I actually have a brilliant idea,” said Tyler, as if surprised that he had even said the words. “Can you get me a tablet? I need to make some notes.”

“Well done, Pat,” Hans whispered into the liver spotted ear past a tendril of thinning white hair. If she heard those words, they would be the last she ever did. Her mind exhausted, Patricia Donoghue died.

Part 2

Tyler’s fingers worked furiously. He was an accomplished touch typist, but he seemed to be working as fast as he ever had. If there were errors he could not see them, but he would need to check when it was done. Even then, he had the thought that no revision would be necessary, but perhaps a little refinement. Tyler was starting to understand what it was like to be more intelligent than he was the day before, by quite some margin. But in all other respects, everything seemed quite normal. He felt reassured.

“Patricia is dead,” said Hans solemnly. “She was a tough boss, but I adored that woman.”

“I saw her, but I never knew her,” said Tyler, coming over to look at the body. She looked exhausted in death – spent by years of effort. And yet he noticed a couple of things about her – her nails were manicured and painted, her eyebrows plucked into an arch, her eyelashes tinted. Her hair was thin and white, but not cut short. She wore it long, brushed for volume in front and tied up in a small bun at the crown. She was a scientist but a little vain, perhaps.

“There is actually another thing that I want to make a note of,” said Tyler. “But first, I need to go to the washroom.”

“Great,” said Hans. “Keep a note of what you know. Let these ideas ride out. Don’t restrain them. Having looked at what you have just been working on, I think we can call the procedure a big success.” It had surprised even Hans but in a good way. Genius had been preserved, at least to some extent. The scale of their achievement was still to be assessed.

Hans sat down at Tyler’s machine to have a closer look. It was the kind of idea that Patricia would have had, but it was complete. He often felt that she held back material for her own reasons, not all of them logical. This was brilliance expressed succinctly. There was scope for many applications in what he could see. It meant money. He called Ray to give him the bad news and the good news – she was dead, but her ideas had not died with her.

“We need to look after this guy,” said Ray. “Perhaps we could shift him into her apartment? She won’t be needing it. I will call in her death to her doctor and have the body collected.”

In the washroom, Tyler was experiencing a moment of unexplained confusion. He went to a stall before spinning around to go to the urinal. His head was full of ideas but quite why this would steer him away from the task was puzzling. And then, as he washed his hands he looked up in the mirror and looked at his reflection. There was nothing unusual. It was him all right, but perhaps with a little more energy visible in the eyes.

But suddenly, he found himself saying aloud – “What a hideous shade of hair color!” Tyler actually slapped a wet hand across his mouth. There was an idea forming in his head, replacing the useful and technical one that he had walked in with. It was growing at the pace of the first one he had while still wearing the cap. He felt the need to “let it ride out,” as Hans had suggested.

He had a closer look in the mirror. He had never noticed it before, but he was reasonably good-looking, or he could be. He was young, and his features were fine. His body was slim and not overly tall or muscled by exercise. He was not a regular eater. His mousy brown hair was not cut short. There was potential here.

Hans was sitting at Tyler’s desk, which would not usually have annoyed him, but it did this time. He was going to act aggressively, but he stopped himself. It was not his nature. He simply stood and waited.

“This is good stuff, Tyler,” said Hans. “Why don’t we take a break? We don’t want to overdo this. I suggest that we finish up for the day. You go home and relax. Take the tablet in case something comes to you, but just relax for a bit. But before you do, why don’t we go up on the roof where I can show you Patricia’s apartment? You might consider moving in there … courtesy of Padonox.”

“Is there an apartment on the roof of the complex?” Tyler asked before he started to remember. He had never been there, and he had never even known it existed.

He felt tired. A period of rest was a good idea. But first, he would look upstairs.

They had to go down to go up. Near the main entrance there was a third elevator separated from the other two by a sculpture wall. There was a keypad. Tyler knew the sequence, but he let Hans punch the numbers.

The doors opened onto a glass hallway elevated a few feet above the expansive roof of the Padanox com-plex. At the end of the hall were the grand doors leading through to what had been Patricia Donoghue’s apartment, complete with never-used guest rooms and entertaining areas and a terrace with a swimming pool, more often used by its owner.

“There is a lot of her stuff here,” said Hans. “It can be disposed of if you want to move in.”

“I would like to move in,” said Tyler, adding – “To be close to the work. But please don’t dispose of any-thing. Somehow being surrounded by her stuff seems to fire me up to do that work. You need good roots to flourish.”

Hans was startled. He had heard that phrase from only one person - Patricia Donoghue.

Part 3

Hans was at work early, even though he had left late the night before, having had a deep discussion with Ray on how to manage Tyler. The call was unexpected, and the caller unknown, but she was put through to him once he had heard the reason for the call.

“My name is Melody Talbot,” the young woman said. “My boyfriend Tyler works for you.”

“He’s not in yet,” said Hans. “He called me to confirm his late arrival. Apparently, he has something to do before work.”

“I know about that, which is why I have come to see you, Dr Meissen,” she said. “I am outside in the car-park. Can I meet you now? Tyler will not be here for a while. I have to know what is going on. I have to know what you have done to my man.”

Hans gulped. He had been wondering if others might have noticed a possible change in personality in Tyler which he might not – he hardly knew the young man. Can overseers really ever truly know those be-neath them? She would notice – they lived together, and perhaps much more than that.

“I will have security let you in … and please, call me Hans.”

When she arrived in his lab, escorted by security as was protocol, her appearance did not surprise him. She was mousy like Tyler, but with a protruding forehead and small eyes. She would never be pretty, but she was clearly very concerned – even emotional. He smiled as he greeted her to put her at ease as best he could. He was not known for his empathy, but he knew when it was needed.

“I think you owe me an explanation, because I am not getting that from Tyler,” said Melody, unable to do anything but spill her thoughts in front of this friendly-looking man in the lab coat. “He has changed. I mean, he is still Tyler but different, and not in a good way.”

“I want to start by telling you that Tyler is a valued employee,” said Hans. “He always has been,” he said, adding a lie that was probably not needed.

“He has agreed to advance his prospects with the organization by enhancing his intellectual capacity a little. It is nothing more than that. Perhaps he is still adjusting to that. We sent him home early yester-day because we don’t want him to overdo things. Work-life balance is important for all men of ability, and that certainly includes your man, Tyler.”

“But that’s just it,” she said. Tears were appearing in her tiny eyes. “He is not my man Tyler. Not any-more. He is not even a man anymore.”

“I’m sorry, what do you mean?” said Hans. A small degree of personality change might have been expected. If somebody’s capacity for ideas is enhanced then they may well want to get busy and perhaps put work first. But what was she talking about?

“He got home last night and he told me that he was not happy presenting as a man,” said Melody. “That’s right – Tyler wants to be a woman. He has never said anything about such a thing before. Whatever you have done to his mind has had a serious side effect. It seems to have made him transgender!”

Hans was confounded. It was her knowledge that they had wanted him to receive, and it was what she wanted to give. Her female sex had never been a factor in her personality – at least as far as he could dis-cern. Patricia had been a scientist first. Perhaps there was a small streak of vanity in her, but she seemed to push that aside, as she did with other distractions.

It was true that on the rare occasions when some public appearance was needed, she might take some pride in her appearance and seek out something to wear that was stylish and appropriate, but he had no eye for such things. It was not her physical appearance that drew Hans to her – it was her incredible mind and her can-do attitude. He had loved her in his own way. But she was dead.

Only ideas were left. That was his part in this. He had succeeded in keeping her ideas alive. If Tyler had feminine tendencies, then Hans had never noticed them, but they must have always been there.

“I am no expert in this, but I don’t think that you can simply become transgender,” said Hans. “Are you sure that he did not have some gender issues beforehand? Perhaps our brain stimulation simply persuaded him to bring these problems to your attention?”

“He is a private person,” said Melody. “That has not changed. But perhaps because of that he has shared everything with me. He would have told me before now. This happened yesterday. He came home as a different person somehow. He is more impatient, and he wants to wear my clothes!”

Hans thought of calling Ray. He was hearing his voice in his own head, saying the word “risk” over and over again.

“Padonox looks after its people, and that means employees and their families and loved ones. You can be assured of that,” said Hans. “I am going to make us some tea. I have my own blend.” He did, and it would serve to relax her a little.

They were sitting there, and he was listening to some of the less-than-interesting things that she and Tyler did with their lives. It struck Hans as a boring life – even more boring than the life that he led outside the lab. At least he was more physically active and ready to travel to interesting places, but for him his laboratory held the greatest prospect for new discoveries. That was the blessing of his vocation, even if it had cost him a family or any long-term relationships.

Then Tyler appeared, and that appearance was truly amazing.

Hans’ first thought was that a stranger had entered the research area past all the security – an attractive young woman wearing a dress in black with splashes of bright colors. Her honey blonde hair was down to her shoulders where it bounced in soft curls that caught the light. She went straight to where the lab coats hung selected the one belonging to Tyler, and slipped it on, flicking the curls over the collar with her back turned for all to see their glory.

When she turned, it seemed that her makeup had been professionally done, as it had been that very morning. It was a daytime look – shaped eyebrows with just nude colors beneath, and natural eyelashes tinted, and eyeliner to show off the green eyes. The lips pouted in pink, but it was a confident smile – not one that would normally appear on Tyler’s face – but it was him.

“I’m sorry I’m late, Hans,” The voice was neither male nor female – something in between – a work in progress. “I just had to go to a salon to get the look I was going for. I hope you don’t mind. Perhaps I should have called you first. You look a little shocked. This is how I will be living from now on. My true self.”

Hans was in a state of shock. It was not as if a work colleague was wearing a dress, but that he had changed completely. The figure was padded but his eyes dropped down to her legs, smooth and shapely, to the floor where he could see painted toenails through the open toes of her wedge sandals.

“Melody, what are you doing here, sweetie?” The apparition spoke again.

“Oh, Tyler! Why?” Melody was in tears. “I came to see what they have done to you.”

“I want both of you to know that this is nothing to do with yesterday, except that yesterday my eyes were opened to my true essence,” said Tyler.

“All that you need to know Melody, is that yesterday, my brain was given a little boost. It opened my eyes to some technical matters that were useful to the corporation, but it also pulled the shroud away from who I really was. Under that shroud, I am female. I was simply denying it my whole life.

“Yesterday, I simply sat down and let my brain do what it had to do. I just got on with things. I formulated my thoughts and gave them to you, Hans, then I went home and started to put my life in order.

“I apologize to you Melody, but we can’t be together anymore. If the apartment upstairs is ready Hans, I am moving in tonight. I am going to live my life the way I want and stay close to the work I am devoted to … but not the way I used to. I plan to enjoy my life too.”

For a moment it seemed as if Hans Meissen was looking at the woman he had always adored, and she was winking at him – at least, I Iike to think that.

Part 4

Like I said at the beginning - He was a nobody. An over-qualified lab assistant. He was expendable but more than useful. After all, he gave me a young body that I have now turned into a very attractive woman. She is far more attractive even than I had been in my youth, all those years ago. Perhaps it was because I was so busy that I paid little attention to my appearance until it was too late. By that time, I was too clever and too powerful to settle for some man of lesser ability and too occupied with my success to look for somebody better than me.

The closest I came to such a man was Hans Meissen. He was a man I respected, even though I never showed him that. When he was smarter than me, I used to cut him down, simply because I could. I was impatient with stupidity but offended by being made to look stupid. Anybody who is a believer in the scientific method will tell you this is wrong. Being corrected is what we need. Ego kills advancement.

But now I have the opportunity to start all over again with Hans. Of course, my body is too young for him, but he is gentle and being fresh from the surgery that I wanted, gentleness is important to me.

He was a nobody, but I have kept his name. I just end it with an A. I am not Patricia. Patricia was a bit of a bitch. Tyla is a pretty young woman who wants to get on. She is not opposed to the idea of sleeping with Dr Hans Meissen as Head of Research to get ahead, and she may well consider granting a few favors to Ray Underhill, who will soon make it to Chief Executive for his role in keeping the Research Division supremely active.

But, as the story I have recounted will explain, Hans loves me in a way that few will understand. I think that he has an idea in his head that I might just be the impressive Patricia Donoghue returned to Earth in a softer, prettier and more loving form to allow him to have sex with the woman he has always adored.

He might be right—who am I to say? I just briefly accessed her, and it changed my life completely—in a good way.

The End

© Maryanne Peters 2025