more than others. Skeptics claim it’s just biology. Others say God made us so wired in order to discover Him or Her.”
“Which is why your questionnaire asked if we were religious or into the occult.”
“Yes,” Luria said. “We don’t want subjects who are susceptible to paranormal phenomena because they’re prone to confabulating NDEs from something they read in a book.”
“If I agreed,” Zack said, “how long would I be flatlined?”
“No more than three minutes.”
“Then you’ll revive me.”
“Yes, by turning off the infusion,” Sarah said. “Plus we’ll give you a small injection of norepinephrine, which instantly increases the heart rate and blood pressure.”
“What are the risks of something going wrong?”
“There are none. Zero.”
“How many others have you flatlined?”
“Many,” Luria said.
“And they all were revived,” Cates added.
“And all the same as they were before being flatlined?”
“Yes, no problems or side effects,” Luria answered.
Zack was silent for a moment as he processed it all. Then he asked, “Why me and why not my friend Damian?”
Dr. Luria’s birthmark darkened. “Well, as Morris said, some people are genetically predisposed to NDEs, which is why we did that helmet test on you. Your temporal lobe is highly sensitive to dissociative experiences. Damian’s wasn’t. In fact, most people’s aren’t.”
“May I ask how you’re funded?”
“Privately.”
But she did not elaborate. And clearly this was not research that was supported by university grants or the government.
“Any chance of me checking references—you know, talk to other test subjects?”
“We can’t do that because of confidentiality agreements,” Luria said. “But to reassure you, we have some videos of past NDE subjects in suspension and being revived.”
She turned the monitor around and clicked on a video, which lasted maybe half an hour. There were three separate subjects, two males and a female. Their faces were blurred, but Luria said they were in their twenties and thirties and all healthy. Each was lying on a gurney and speaking with Luria and others as technicians hooked up IV lines and wires to their head and chest. When they said they were ready, a technician administered something into their IVs, and almost instantly they fell into a deep sleep. In clear view of the camera were electric defibrillator paddles. The video ran for a few minutes while Luria and others watched the monitors. Then the subjects were awakened, each appearing groggy for a spell. One man seemed to relapse into suspension and was given a second injection of norepinephrine. Then, following a time jump, Dr. Luria was shown interviewing each—asking how they felt. All said normal. Then a short list of questions to assess their memories: Name the date, the current president, the state and its capital, and so forth. Luria turned off the sound while the interview continued.
“The rest involves their experiences, which we’re keeping confidential. We also don’t want to prejudice your own responses should you agree. Any questions?”
He didn’t seriously believe in the NDE stuff. His main concern was coming back from the chemical cocktail. “What’s the drug, by the way?”
“It’s called tetrodotoxin.”
That told him nothing.
“It’s a natural ingredient and perfectly safe,” Sarah said. She patted his arm. “I promise you’ll be just fine.”
“I should add that if you agree to volunteer, you’ll be paid an additional two-hundred-and-fifty-dollar signing fee—a total of five hundred dollars.”
Zack could feel lines of expectation converge on him. He glanced at the nondisclosure and waiver forms. Then his eyes returned to the computer image of the last NDE subject, frozen at the point where he said he felt perfectly fine. “You’re asking me to be sent to death’s door, so I’d like to think this over, if you don’t mind.”
Luria’s expression sagged. “Of course, but it’s perfectly safe.”
He made a move to the door. “I’m sure, but I can’t just sign my life away.”
“But you’re not,” she said, struggling not to be too insistent.
“I’ll get back to you.”
“Fine. We hope that you’ll let us know soon.” Luria went to the desk and called Bruce. When she finished, she pulled Zack aside, and in a low voice she said, “While you’re deliberating, you should know that this project is on the cusp of a great scientific discovery. Perhaps the greatest. And you can be part of it.”
34
Two days later, they began to put the pressure on Zack. Dr. Luria sent a letter thanking him for his initial participation in the “tests” and saying that she understood his concern. Sarah also sent him a note saying that she hoped they could continue working together. To ease his mind, she had sent him a link to a secure site on which there were more video interviews of subjects who had emerged from suspensions. Their identities were blocked, their faces smudged, but they were clearly in the Proteus lab being interviewed by Dr. Luria and Sarah Wyman.
They all identified themselves as college students or young professionals in their twenties or thirties. Notwithstanding the selection of videos, the half dozen or so test subjects unanimously said that they experienced no side effects other than feeling a little sluggish. After the sedative had worn off, they claimed to have felt perfectly normal. Two expressed regret about coming back to the real world. One had likened the return to Dorothy leaving the land of Oz for black-and-white Kansas.
What interested Zack particularly were their descriptions of the actual suspensions. While one recalled nothing from his suspensions, most of the others claimed that in their NDEs they had remarkable feelings of peace, unity, and unconditional love:
The next day, Luria did a follow-up call to ask if he had watched the videos.
“Yes, they were fascinating,” he said.
“And all very positive reports, as you noticed.”
“Yes.”
“And all very safe, obviously.”
“So it seems.” He knew he was playing coy.
“So,” she said, “I hope you’re agreeable to undergoing a suspension with us.”
“I’m still thinking about it,” Zack said.
“Well, you should know that I met with the others and we unanimously agreed to raise the suspension fee to seven hundred and fifty dollars.”
A $250 raise. “That’s great,” he said. “But what’s the reason?”
“Well, frankly, because in neurological terms you’re quite special. As I said the other day, the activity structure of your brain appears especially sensitive.”
He wondered if he should feel flattered or apprehensive. “Just one question,” he said. “How come no one in
