don't yet know is exactly why you're having these migraines or how we can stop them. Your brain has to give us the answer to these questions.' He stood and moved to the door, gesturing for her to follow him into the Think Tank. 'Now might be a good time to introduce you to the NeuroTranslator.'
'This is the examination room,' Fleming said, 'but everyone here calls it the Think Tank.'
With its lofty ceiling and picture rails, the room seemed antithetical to the extensive state-of-the-art equipment, the battery of oxygen cylinders, medical monitors and other apparatus. On a table on the far side of the room, another translucent cube sat on a thick black base; it contained a pulsing sphere of light the size of a soccer ball. A blue electrode skullcap and a wireless keypad lay next to it; a large plasma screen hung on the wall above it.
'This is where you'll sleep tonight.' 'No bed? So this is a no-frills place, right?' 'Your bed will be wheeled in from one of the ward cubicles. Many of our patients are immobile so it's easier to move them. The intensive-care equipment around the bed bay is for emergencies. Some of our research patients are critically ill, so we don't like to take chances. Anyway, you'll have Brian watching over you.' 'Brian?'
Fleming shrugged. 'It's a stupid name that stuck. In the early days a technical assistant wrote a memo referring to the NeuroTranslator as a brain machine. Anyway, there was a typo and now all the nurses and doctors call it Brian. Stupid, but it stops us getting too pompous.' He walked over and patted the mannequin. 'This is called Brian too. We use it to train amputees and paraplegics how to think commands.' He paused. 'How much do you know about the NeuroTranslator? It's based on the Lucifer, so you probably know quite a lot about the underlying technology'
She walked over and touched the translucent cube, studying the pulsing glowing sphere inside. 'I assume the optical processor provides the power and speed to translate neural signals.'
'Absolutely. In the base there's also a neural signal amplifier and an optical-analogue converter to enable a subject's brainwaves to communicate directly with the computer.' He picked up the blue skullcap. 'We call this a Thinking Cap. Each node of the interlocking net design carries an electrode to monitor the brain's electrical activity through the skull. All communication from headpiece to computer is wireless. The NeuroTranslator's basically an advanced biofeedback unit, similar to the early Biomuse systems developed by Lusted and Knapp in the early nineties to help paraplegics and amputees.'
Amber nodded. She had read about the Biomuse devices. They were primarily designed to detect and amplify the electrical impulses from residual muscle tissue, and the impulses generated by eye movement. 'But the NeuroTranslator's far more advanced, I guess. For a start, it doesn't use EMG or EOG signals.'
'You're right. It uses EEG signals. About six years ago I was convinced that we could gain far greater control of computers if we exploited the considerably more complex electrical signals present in the human brain. The simple ambition was to harness thought itself.'
Amber smiled at 'simple'. At its most basic level, human brain activity - thought - was made up of electricity racing from the various neural junctions in the brain. As far back as 1929 the German psychiatrist Hans Berger coined the term electroencephalogram, or EEG, to describe recordings of voltage fluctuations of the brain that could be detected using electrodes attached to the scalp.
Over the decades many continuous EEG signals had been identified: alpha waves could be brought on by actions as simple as closing the eyes; beta waves were associated with an alert state of mind; theta waves arose from emotional stress; delta waves occurred during deep sleep; and mu waves were associated with the motor cortex - they diminished with movement or the intention to move.
Fleming patted the