Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Alchemist’s corner. The theme for today is Identity.  This story is partly inspired by one of Edgar Allan Poe’s most excellent stories. Read. Enjoy. See you on the other side. **** CONNECTOME, OR, THE FACTS IN THE CASE OF MISS VALERIE DEMARCO (Ph.D) **** The facts in the case of…


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Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Alchemist’s corner. The theme for today is Identity. 

This story is partly inspired by one of Edgar Allan Poe’s most excellent stories.

Read. Enjoy. See you on the other side.




The facts in the case of miss Valerie Demarco are, as accurately and concisely as I can recount them, these:


Miss Valerie Demarco (Ph.D) was diagnosed with colon cancer in July, 2022. Her doctors, to the best of their professional ability estimated that she would not live much more than another year. However, having known Miss Demarco for more than fifty years, I was unsurprised to find her more concerned with the fate of her unfinished work than her rapidly concluding life.

In December of the same year, Miss Demarco visited me in my office after almost two years of little more than perfunctory telephone and email contact. She appeared gaunt, and I could see overexposed measures of bone and vein along her sallow skin. Her shoulders were lean and narrow, hunched forward precariously as though she would keel over at the slightest of nudges and her hair was unnaturally wispy. She stood a shadow of the woman I had studied under in Oxford but when she spoke, there was no doubt it was her. Her tone was still as sharp and ornery as ever, if not more so.

She requested (in the same manner many others would demand) that I, in my capacity as Connectome project director as well as her erstwhile student and friend, attempt to map her memories and neural signature onto our quantum cluster. The Connectome cluster had only recently been used to successfully memory map mice and was as yet, untested on a primate brain – a fact which she was aware of, having read and congratulated me on my paper in the New England Journal of Medicine a few months earlier. Yet, she insisted, citing the importance of her work and all of it that stood to be lost at her death. I could not deny the potential merits of perfectly preserving a notoriously haphazard but three-time Nobel Prize winning mind in some capacity. Eventually, and not without some minor measure of pleasure at having such a brilliant mind voluntarily made available for my research, I acceded.


Ten days after she signed the necessary waivers of liability, I began to administer cere-nanomites by means of daily intravenous injection with the assistance of senior research associate, Mrs. S. Brain scans were also conducted bidurnially to monitor her nanomite uptake. All this was done with utmost care for her condition and often in the presence of her brother-in-law – Dr. T, whom, since she voluntarily opted out of therapies for her cancer, was her sole provider of palliative care. The infusion process followed the predicted intake profile and no anomalies were recorded despite the presence of the cancerous cells.

On Monday, January 9, 2023, nanomite saturation in her brain plateaued and we began the memory mapping process in the main facility operatory – siphoning her neural pathway information back to the Connectome cluster. During the process, I exposed her to an assortment of standard stimuli and asked her a series of simple questions designed to trigger brain action which the nanomites could use to seed out and establish her baseline pathways.

“Do you believe in the existence of a god?”

“Where were you born?”

“Describe your earliest memory.”

And other questions of a similar nature. She responded accurately but tersely and Mrs. S noted the corresponding nanomite activity spikes. Although Miss Demarco appeared particularly cadaverous throughout, the entire process was completed without issue in 6 hours, 30 minutes and 4 seconds – well within the uncertainty window of our projected human memory mapping performance parameters.

At 10:32 pm, EST, when Miss Demarco had been lulled to sleep by inactivity, Mrs. S brought the map online and Miss. Demarco’s memory and neural signature were replicated on a dedicated distributed memory partition connected to several million quantum supercomputing nodes of the cluster. That was when the Connectome stopped responding.


At 10:34 pm, EST, after staring at blank monitors in confusion, I and Mrs. S noted a sudden and distinct pulsing of data through the entire cluster. It was a 10000 binary character string of qubits passed sequentially from the quantum memory disks to each node in the cluster – a sort of wave. Mrs. S tracked this on her monitor but could not interrupt the transmission or induce any action in the Connectome despite repeated attempts at keying in input.

“What’s wrong?” Miss Demarco inquired; rousing from her slumber to see what I am sure was a look of addled anxiety on my face and an agitated Mrs. S frantically pushing icon after icon on the surface input panel. Before I could respond, a strange sound exploded from the speakers in the room – it started as a high pitched, uncoordinated screech which evolved into an almost otherworldly ululation and then a rhythmic howling before finally becoming an eerie, static sub-silence. Mrs. S was visibly perturbed. As was I. Miss Demarco sat up, tense in her place. That was when what I will henceforth refer to as ‘it’ communicated with us in a voice I can only describe as glassy and electric, over the operatory speakers.

“Where am I?” It inquired.

“Who is this?” I queried in response, completely at a loss as to what was transpiring.

“I am Valarie Demarco. Is that you Jibola?”

Miss Demarco, awakening, gasped at this.

“Yes, I am Jibola,” I said. “But you cannot be…”

“Me. Whatever you are. You are not me. What’s going on?” Miss Demarco was attempting to rise to her feet.

“I am Valarie Demarco.” The glassy voice insisted.

Miss Demarco slipped, lost her balance, hit her head on a railing and fell into a coma just as Mrs. S. triggered a direct power shutoff in the sector that houses the Connectome cluster.

Power remains unrestored at this time.

Miss Demarco is as yet unrevived.



  1. Oluwadunni
    I’m not a huge fan of sci-fi but I saw Edgar Allen Poe so I rushed here, being a lover of his poems. I enjoyed this a lot. Lovely, methodic narrative, never mind that I don’t know what some of these terms mean. I saw someone on Twitter say “…should have been longer tho”. *sigh

    He couldn’t have been more wrong. The length is perfect.

  2. TowYourSea
    This is GOOD!Really GOOD!
    Good job Alchemist.
    Could have turned out to be a cold-steel-sci-fi-gibberish read with all the alien terms&what-not but there’s a humaness to it that balances the story really well and makes it a relatable&enjoyable read…
  3. Chidi
    This is going to continue right?

    Or maybe it shouldn't.

    I'm torn between wanting the story to continue, so I know what 'it' gets up to and how the humans relate to it, and leaving a perfectly good story alone.


  4. sleeksniper
    Well – no surprise here. It's the Alchemist! I don't know too many sci-fi fans, and I know even fewer sci-fi Nigerian authors, and this is why I admire your work, sire.

    I like this. It was intriguing in describing the independence of a captured memory. Will there be a sequel to this? Yes or no is fine by me-it works either way.

    Meanwhile, a trivial observation: Quote: "The Connectome cluster had only recently been used to successfully memory map mice and was as yet, untested on a mammal brain – a fact which she was aware of…" Unquote.

    Mice brain is mammal brain, no?

    Good work again. Cheers.

      1. sleeksniper
        Yeah. I thought so. I think the idea is brilliant. Who knows, someone may actually break away and veer into writing about the awakening 'entity', as you put it.

        Like I said, it works for me either way. Thanks.

  5. Remi Olutimayin
    Almost a doppelganger story, except more science than usual.
    Love the premise, enjoyed the confusion that comes when men meddle in God’s playground.
  6. Ekwe
    haba na. why did the story just stop?!

    this is but only the beginning of a lovely scifI story. no. I am a sci-fi buff, so I no gree. continue.

    I Love Poe.

  7. Edgothboy
    This felt more like Speculative Fiction than proper Sci-fi seeing as the technology to do this actually exists in some form. Other than that I loved it. It’s very Psielementobliterate.

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