TransSpace-PharmaCare has made a continued mission to improve the lives of its customers with innovative treatments for a variety of ailments. Some of our greatest successes have been in anti-psychotics. Psychosis has been notoriously difficult to treat, and has been chronicled in centuries of study. Madness was sanitized with the term ‘psychosis’, defined roughly as disorders of the mind, in the nineteenth century. Treatments in that era were limited in effectiveness, and often amounted tantamount to torture of the patients who were routinely confined to asylums. Electric shock therapy was introduced in 1938 by Ugo Cerletti, and become a modern marvel of psychotherapy. The next wave of treatment came with the use of therapeutic drugs for the treatment of the mentally ill. Leading the first generation of anti-psychotics, chlorpromazine was introduced under the brand name Thorazine in the mid 1950’s. The ‘Thorazine haze’ became the way of choice to treat patients. Calm, placid, and easy to control under the drug’s influence, a generation of patients was kept manageable. Valium was approved in the early 1960’s, for those who still wanted to numb daily life, but were not quite psychotic- mother’s little helper was a pharmaceutical best seller with housewives. Anti-psychotics are not just useful for controlling difficult patients, but also as an accessory drug of choice for the discontented masses. The introduction of second generation anti-psychotics replaces many of the older drugs, promising to help schizophrenics and bipolar patients, but without the seizures, Parkinson-tremors, and muscle rigor that often became permanent after these use of these drugs. So with great co-pay fanfare companies began introducing quetiapine, asenapine, and blonanserin. The new drugs offered the promise of better treatment and had a golden ticket of 10 years patent protection from generics.
In 2023, the third generation of anti-psychotics applied new personalities to patients, after Dr. Kuller theorized that it was the very fabric of their personality that was at fault and causing symptoms. The colors and hues of Kuller pills were an off label use godsend; they could cure legions of people whose personalities might have grated on their spouses nerves for decades. PharmaCare was born off of a merger of Dr. Kuller’s lab and a large twentieth century drug manufacturer. The Kuller pill windfall made PharmaCare into the largest drug company on the market scene.
The field of space-time travel has been riddled with contentions and heated debate since its inception. Populated with grandiose visions and miraculous stumbles of brilliant men who have been entrapped by midnight succubi, the allure vast far away and alternate universes have proven irresistible time and again. The physics of space-time travel is broken into a few loosely bound together fields of thought. Those who see time travel to the past as being possible with faster than light travel; sending an object faster than light on one reference time frame will cause it to go backwards in time in another reference frame. However, causality creates several problems with this methods, the largest of which being how plausible accelerating any object or information to the speed of light. Another camp is occupied looking at spatial geometries in the universe that could create closed, time-like curves that allow travel to the past. But this limited approach is only a shell- a heavily fortified vanguard staffed by only a few lifelong members, too old to change their views. Though there was a claim of success in 2018, the entire TimeINFIN complex disappeared, along with several members of the media sent to record the supposed ‘greatest moment in time theory history’, and no records remain of their data.
Roman rings, which rely on a polygonal array of ‘n’ number of transversable wormholes have been the latest fad. The Tipler Cylinder is subject to intense debate. The proponents who have constructed this cylinder claim they have installed a 4th dimensional infinite cylinder inside an exotic particle lined finite cylinder, and that various components internally are made of exotic matters that may or may not be present in our universe. Cosmic string is also a key component of this theory, though the ability to spool it is under debate—the actual details are trade secrets and are not able to be divulged herein. Spinning the cylinder allows travel backward or forwards in time depending on the direction of rotation. This is infinitely superior to the use of near relativistic speeds allowing travel forward in time, though that method has fewer violations of causality. The near-relativistic speeds method allows the traveler to experience relatively few years or minutes of time passing, while in reality many have passed to an observer. This is an interesting thought experiment, but a key flaw marks it for limited commercial use. Travel forward in time is of limited usefulness if one can never go back.
In 2025, after the first successful run of a Roman ring spun on cosmic string was recorded, the staff of Cal Tech were ecstatic. The university, and hereto the project was promptly bought out by TransSpace. However, the research group ran into problems once they advanced to throwing primate subjects across time. Rodent trials seemed uneventful, save some early tests that crumpled the subjects like bleeding wads of tissue. When primates were subject to repeated intervals of time shift, their behavior changed markedly. Some subjects lost recognition of the surrounding environment, others stopped responding to any normal stimuli- even voltages high enough to singe to an and pop the skin on the sensitive parts of the mouth under the tongue could not elicit a response. Two primate subjects in Eletie’s study also had a particular reaction where they tore into their own stomachs, ripping through their abdominal walls with their own fingernails. One bled out after tearing the renal artery and the other lost most of its intestines, and is kept on intravenous plastic digestive system support, and has been observed to hold objects in its bowl shaped abdominal area. Most of the primate subjects had to be euthanized. The remainder are kept on Tourazine at the Cal Tech anatomy lab. The madness after the travel period was not associated with any anatomical brain changes- histological studies were all normal. There appeared to be elevated sensory visual input, but most frontal cortex activity was within normal ranges.
The recent merger of TransSpace and PharmaCare has created a corporation with a new mission. The boundless economical opportunities offered by tourism, government, and business space-time travel is no doubt one of the greatest chances for success in our era. But it is essential that the mental aberrations and deteriorations that have been side effects of space time travel experiments so far be understood.
This paper is part two of a forty-five-segment study logging the effects of time movement on unprimed human subjects. Each part tracks the progression of hallucinatory visions and mental deterioration of a subject, and records the metal output via a subdurally implanted brain activity chip. This serves to record all thoughts of the subject for later psychoanalysis by our scientists. Part two looks at a twenty-four year old medical student. Similar to the other sub-parts of this study, subject was randomly selected from the Cal Tech graduate student files, and consent of subject is usurped by the signed affidavit for graduate enrollment at Cal-Tech, see segment III of Letter C. Subject is male, Caucasian, and of average BMI (height=72 inches, weight=165lbs, BMI=22.4). Subject had some background in particle physics and spatial time physics, which provides a useful and previously not available marker to understand the degree of his deterioration.
Short-term fluctuations with cosmic string unspooling were used for several trials of space-time movement. In the subject’s reference frame, three to six hour-long cycles occurred forward and backward in time according to the laboratory reference frame (intervals were random and net movement in time ranged for twenty minutes to seventy six years). To ensure data between all 45 subjects is partially controlled, a set of stimuli question was applied prior to each trial run in the cylinder. Patient was kept unaware of his situation as part of the experiment to ensure that self-fulfilling prophecy of fear of mental deterioration was not the cause. Ethical obligations were upheld under the Cal-Tech sub-clause that allowed such mental testing as parent company TransSpace-PharmaCare saw fit. The use off all 45 subjects was approved at a TransSpace-PharmaCare Board Meeting; minutes described it as a great opportunity for the company, and for the good of all stockholders. Notations made by the company scientists are noted underneath the in the brain output data shown below.
I have always been a motivated student. Dean’s list, those Greek honors at graduation, the works. I mean, a real stand-up person. My undergraduate degree was in Neuroscience, but I had a minor in Physics. No real reason, I just like physics and the neuroscience major got me into Medical school. I had good test scores too- I liked to think I knew the material, but also knew how to read those tricky test questions that were written to confuse and entrap students. Its not really a game of knowledge, those standardized tests. At a certain point, you have this group of students. All of them intelligent, all of them wanting to succeed. How do you sort them out? You try and trick them- twist the material unusually, make it foreign again. Then, see who can see right through the slight of hand. Those are your top scorers. I’ve been trying to read through peoples bull-shit my whole life. I mean, here I’m doing… never mind, I’m off track again. Anyways, after school I went to a middle of the road medical school- not the state M.D. machine, but not your Harvard or Yale. Couldn’t justify myself the cost. My grades were good the first two years; high pass and honors all across the board. I’ve been doing pretty well in my third year so far too. I guess, I was until this. How long have I been here anyways?
Good grades, focused. Does not seem to be having problems in classes or in career path navigation. All indicators on the Suddinger Scale point to minimal risk of work-related breakdown or life-direction quarter-life crisis breakdown.
I’ve never taken any medication stronger than ibuprofen or the occasional course of antibiotics. I mean, I took a few days of cortisol for mono when I was younger, but no antidepressants or adderall or stuff. No illegal’s either- I get drunk like any other clean cut American kid.
Minimal drug use, lacking risk factors for drug-induced psychosis- toxicology scan was clean, aside from background pesticide noise, within limits for dietary sources.
I’ve been doing really well lately. I mean that- got a future I’m planning, good grades, opportunities. I’m not dating anyone- broke off a 3 year thing with my ex about 8 months ago. We just didn’t get along anymore- I spent too much time studying, she was tired of waiting for me to make real money. Cute, brunette with a curvy little body. She wound up with some guy in business. I’ve dated on and off since. Nothing serious. I dated this chick for awhile, she was a number. PhD student-molecular bio. Whippet thin, I could feel her tendons wriggle underneath my palm. She could tell when someone was spinning a lie too well for her own good. If she came over after work, and I said ‘Hey, you look hot, come over here.’ You know, just to get something going- she could tell the times I lied, and when I actually thought her rumpled hair made her look like some sort of pop-up porn ad wild child. I had never thought about how sometimes my compliments were just like carry out trays- worthless but for their ability to serve leftovers of other sentiments. But one day she was on top of me and said ‘Listen, don’t lie to me’. Like it was weird- she once told me it was in the back of someone’s eyes you could tell when they lied, when they wanted you, when they wanted something from you. I might have not believed her, but she was on target too often for me to ignore it. So, I stopped. She was that odd chick who hated me saying petty promises of a future between the sheets- it turned her off like a faucet. But things fizzled with us, one maybe two months ago? Mutually, we both just started working on other people for our 2AM phone-calls. But I think she had the kind of cynicism you need to get by in this life. I mean, people lie all the time. I guess some of us just tolerate it better than others. You have to take things with a grain of salt. Or a whole shaker.
Possible relationship problems, but none seem severe. Ended long term relationship, but still dating. While loss of relationship poses and area of concern, this situation is not unusual among young professionals. Responses to sexual stimuli still evoked normal range responses.
My behavior has been pretty normal- I hit the gym twice a week, go to my appointed clerkships, study. On Saturdays I do the sports bar with the guys. Nothing special, just beer and whatever game that’s on. It’s a good time with good company, getting out of the apartment and relaxing. I swear I’ve seen some of those games several times though- young college kids playing basketball, all of them running for some pro money. Or bulky male forms scrambling over a neatly cropped green lawn with a football. I just must not be a real sports guy, it never sticks with me.
Demonstrates good social behavior, and calls to friends indicate that social habits are within normal parameters. Was described as: “A good guy”, “Always on time” and “Always bought a round when it was his turn”. Lack of interest in sports could indicate a lack of aggression and testosterone deficiency, but again sex drive indicates otherwise.
Today was normal enough too. In the morning, I was at a clinical. This week was pediatrics. I saw little kids with runny noses, a broken arm, appendicitis, and a few long-term care for diabetes. One or two getting their injections for the drug resistant bacteria that are getting pretty bad in some satellite colonies. Too much gamma radiation, messes with DNA you know. Treating sick kids is never uplifting, but I was relieved I didn’t see anything really heartbreaking. They are marvels, kids. Bones growing, cells dividing and replacing at a miraculous rate. They aren’t slowly decaying like the rest of us. There’s this huge rush in your body to mature, fuse that last bone— the clavicle, then bam, it all starts to breakdown. When a kid dies or is dying, it really gets me. I mean, they are supposed to be on the upswing of life. And even in the midst of it they still smile at you, ask you about your white coat or if you have a dog because they love dogs. Maybe they just don’t get it, they really are dying. I mean, kids believe that someday they really might be an astronaut or perform some miraculous feat past whatever finite abilities most of us have.
Subject went to work and displayed no extraordinary or out of the ordinary emotional or physical variants. Also, observations noted that the subject showed a variety of emotional responses. Ability to sympathize is not impaired, pupil dilation indicates empathy response is still normal.
Well, I was on my half-hour break from my clinical round, and I went to sit in one of the empty meeting rooms before I went back to my shift. No one was around, and I was lying on the table—I think I fell asleep. I woke up at some point, swearing at myself for missing my alarm. But I couldn’t get my watch to work. I mean, there were numbers on it, but the digital blots seemed to be changing like a clock hand going though boiled syrup. I tried to sit up, but I just felt like my head was spinning and so I stayed lying down, the room twisting around me. My brain felt like a catheter was being pulled between my ears. I blinked instead. One. Two. Five times. I took a breath, but felt my throat croak with the inhalation. Like cement had filled the soft spongy spaces that should hold air. I looked at the blackboard next to me. It seemed to squirm slightly. Shiny, a deep black. Jelly like. Like a rat spleen, bursting with densely pack blood cells. It did look as if it was about to burst. I looked closer, and there was a tear. Across the midsection of the board, where the metal divider cruelly pressed into the glistening red-black blob. It tore, and thick fluid dripped down the wall, and rolled into a crack in the floor. I could smell the blood. It was overwhelming—acid and metallic smell coating my nostrils, making my cracking lungs heave into my ribs as I gagged.
Initial onset of hallucinations noted. Improbable change in the physical appearance of surrounding objects. Extraneous stressful onset unlikely, subject noted no unusual occurrences at work that could have been amplified during the induced period of unconsciousness.
I closed my eyes, and could still feel the fluorescent lights beating though them. I kept them closed, and worked on breathing more evenly. I could try and moderate the cycle if I just kept my calm. I thought it could be a nervous breakdown, and that meant I could try and prevent my full collapse. My cement lungs cracked and groaned, but I concentrated on a few breaths. I opened my eyes, expecting normality. Instead, I was struck by the corner of the room my head was facing. It wasn’t a proper corner with a right angle intersect of three planes. The geometry made my head hurt- I knew what it was. Hyper-cube corner. Like that fucking digital model I spent hours trying to understand in one of my 200 level physics classes. I would always end up with a headache and no epiphany on the wonder of a 4 dimensional shape. It was like when a piece of paper has the image of a 3D cube drawn on it- it can make you dizzy to picture the cube extruding forward or sinking to the plane of the page, back and forth. It was like that but a hundred, a thousand times worse. I closed my eyes again.
Subject acknowledges the hallucination, but continues to describe anomalous occurrences. Hallucinate duration uncertain. Possibility for four-dimensional spatial references in wormholes is unknown, as high gamma radiation from accelerating photons makes conventional recording means unreliable.
I keep hearing these questions somewhere deep in my mind. Fuck. Someone’s got a mental input-output wire in me. I know, I’ve implanted them before. What do I see now? My eyes are still shut, and I really don’t want to open them. I don’t want to tell you what the fuck I’m seeing, but evidently this recorder is not holding a two-way conversation with me. Four-dimensional objects are not part of my part of the universe. Theoretical physics is only interesting when I can walk away from it. I used to do research for physics you know, before med school. I’d heard about weird sort of stuff happening in rumors from a few other labs. TimeINFIN people talked about it a lot- the possibility of getting scooped into a rivulet of the universe’s fabric, shuttled into in a worm-hole and the ends repelling each other while the set of atoms that make up my body would be hurled and volleyed end to end for who knows how long. I’m having a psychotic episode. Whoever put this god damn thing in my brain and hauled me here… I have no idea how I got here… I need to get out of this space. I can’t take it anymore. I didn’t sign up for any testing.
Subject becomes unwilling to cooperate further. Subject was left for additional two sessions of time-alterations after failure to cooperate and ceased voluntary responses to stimuli. Subject was removed from the cylinder box chamber and to elicit more data, pressure was applied to the slight fracturing seen in the subject’s ribs.
My watch doesn’t keep proper time. It is now 3 hours and 15 minutes before I thought I woke up in this room, and I have breathed in and out at least 1200 times. That should indicate some passage of time in this reference frame. So maybe my watch is right, maybe it’s me who’s wrong. Why can’t I breathe? Say, you don’t act like you know me. Do you know me? Well I guess you can’t say that, me being a patient and all. The wall isn’t bleeding anymore. Did you notice that? The pool of blood used to be right where you were sitting. Are you going to cart me out soon? I think there’s something wrong with my lungs. They sound funny. The door is somewhere behind my head. Or it was. Maybe its like Schrödinger’s cat. Poor cat. I hope the door hasn’t been gone all along.
The subject has been admitted to private TransSpace-PharmaCare facilities for testing of a several new anti- psychotics in development to treat hallucinations resulting from space-time travel. Subject is most likely going to require long term administration of anti-psychotics, graciously provided by TransSpace-PharmaCare.
Analysis and Conclusions
The subject appears to be suffering from delusion and an altered vision of reality. His complaints have included not understanding why the hospital room is no longer in its proper four-dimensional shape, and he still has altered spatial recognition skills. A the end of testing, the subject had all of his ribs broken, however most bone fragments stopped before the protective membrane surrounding his lungs. Other notable procedures during post travel testing included keeping the torso strapped to the hospital bed to ensure the lungs were not punctured. This was deemed necessary to ensure limited movement without any pain suppressing drugs administered that could collude the data collected. Psychosis seems to be nonviolent, however this could be hidden by the fact that the patient currently has limited movement. The subsequent subjects should be provoked to test for violent tendencies, and whether persistent dimensional alterations are a common long-term side effect of this mode of travel.
I was told in college to construct the abstract after writing the entire paper first. I was working with a professor in the physics department at the time, and his paper was being prepped for publication. I spent hours in the lab with the other research grunts, counting radiation on a display reader, and then it was all over in five pages. Cement your ideas, examine them with the experiment, then come to a solid conclusion. The abstract is a succinct summary; months or even years of your life in a few sentences. I always felt like it was an obituary of sorts. A person can read the abstract and know what is inside that study, what the study accomplished, and how. An obituary says the same thing. This man was a good man. He had a wife. He worked nine-to-five for forty-three years and worked hard. This man loved his wife and he leaves behind three kids and a dog. Abstracts are especially hard to write when you can’t easily summarize the paper’s contents. Like the few sentences that have to summarize a man that no one really knew, and a distant relative tries to hastily dash out. Like the obituary of a lonely man of science- hard working but easily forgotten.