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with a sigh of obvious relief. ‘Dr Currie.’
    Rising, he met the newcomer at the end of the room, whispering to him for a few moments in a voice which remained frustratingly below her threshold of hearing. Then he turned back to her. ‘Jane, this is Dr Currie. He’s the revivification specialist. Any questions you have, he’s the man. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a whole crowd of new arrivals to put through their paces, so I’ll be getting along.’
    Dr Currie was a short man; maybe 155 centimetres, maybe a little less. But he carried himself with a confidence that made him appear much taller. ‘Emil tells me that you worked in the Genetic Research Facility.’ The ice-breaker.
    But Jane was in no mood for small talk. ‘Tell me about Nixon’s Syndrome.’
    The doctor nodded, and sat down in the chair recently vacated by the cryo-technician. When he spoke, it was as one professional to another. In spite of the difference in their ages, her experience and obvious successes placed them on an equal footing. ‘It’s a condition we don’t fully understand. Strike that. We understand perfectly what happens ,we just don’t know a damned thing about what causes it. All we know is that it strikes a very small percentage of individuals after a period in stasis, that its effects are irreversible, and that the onset is apparent from the moment of revival.’
    â€˜And what are its “effects”?’
    â€˜A gradual, progressive loss of memory. In a typical-case scenario, the memory disappears a little piece at a time, following no particular pattern. Unlike degenerative conditions such as Alzheimer’s, for example, there doesn’t appear to be any breakdown of the actual physical structure of the brain. Except that certain cells seem to develop an electro-chemical resistance to neurotransmitters. Imagine it like a series of computer files. The information is all there, locked inside, but it’s as though someone has placed a password on them, and the retrieval system can’t get the information out.’
    He paused, but Jane had followed the analogy. She nodded for him to go on.
    â€˜The recall-failure is minor at first, and progresses slowly for the first month or so, but then it accelerates, until nothing at all remains from the period before the onset of the condition.’
    â€˜Nothing?’ The question was whispered. Jane watched the man’s face for a trace of hope, but there was none.
    â€˜Nothing. Total, permanent amnesia.’ Then he brightened slightly. ‘But there is some good news – assuming, of course, you prove to have the condition, which is by no means certain.’
    â€˜And that is?’
    â€˜Nixon’s affects only those memories which existed prior to stasis. Anything experienced or learned from this moment on will remain when all the rest is forgotten. Someone as gifted as you should be able to re-learn everything important to your work, and reabsorb all the conditioning that enables you to function in society, with very little disruption to your life. It’s just the personal memories – growing up, your first love, your time with your family, your . . . personal history. They will be lost forever.’
    Jane was quiet for a moment. Then a sudden calm came over her, pushing down the rising fear. The rational side of her took control; the professional detachment that had helped her so much during her brief, meteoric rise in the competitive jungle of the Organisation. She began to speak, thinking aloud, as she did when she was struggling with a difficult problem. ‘Let me get this right. The condition is not degenerative? The memory cells remain intact?’
    Dr Currie nodded, but said nothing, allowing her to pursue her line of reasoning. ‘And apart from losing the information previously stored, the memory continues to function as before, unimpaired?’
    Another nod.
    Jane