Games Without Rules
Sunshine. Crackling dry gold. Steep hills of scrub brush. Sharp small shadows, running. He ran. Downhill. As fast as he could. His eyes narrow against the dry heat. Air swept past his ribs and sweating brow.
If he spilled on rock, root or badger hole - he lost. If he made it downhill - he won. It was simple then. Win or lose. He made up the rules. And the rules didn't change.
Age three. 3 R. J. Mikelionis M.D.
The electric motor hissed like a snake in the rocks, and the large rectangular white screen slid down from the ceiling behind the lecturer's podium. The lights went out in the amphitheater.
"Whole and bisected nervous tissue; note particularly the position of the pituitary, its attachment to the brain proper, and the surrounding vascular Circle of Willis. Try to discern the relative positions of adenohypophysis, neurohypophysis..."
Cameron's eyes narrowed. "Basophils in the adenohypophysis are demonstrated particularly well. They stain purple. Acidophils and chromophobes..." The eyelids slid down further.
"...it is helpful to remember that the chromophobes are usually small and occur in clumps. This arrangement of cells can easily be studied..." The eyes had closed.
"Many small follicles are filled with PAS positive colloid. In the neurohypophysis, nuclei of pituicytes..." Cameron's back remained straight, but his chin began its inevitable journey downward.
"Often neurosecretory material, Herring bodies, can be observed in forms of pale, amorphous blobs..."
For a brief second, Cameron's eyes opened, focusing on the eerie lunar landscape of a nerve cell magnified 9,000 times on the electron micrograph slide. Large domed lunar rocks, craters, seas floated in a haze of black, white, and gray blots before his eyes.
His chin came to rest on his wrists. "...These predominate in the pars intermedia, and often penetrate into the pars nervosa."
4 Blue Fire
The domed figures transformed themselves: A white sweater, books cradled over her crossed arms, under her chest...warmly resting in their sweater, her breasts spread softly over the edge of the books; it was amazing how they were suspended over the books like that, as if over a platter for support. And no less amazing that they spanned the entire platter.
"...Thus the case can be made that Neurons are secretory cells, using micro-merocrine secretions at their synaptic vesicles!" exclaimed the lecturer triumphantly.
"Proteinaceous material is produced like in any other cell in the body, then transported to cluster together at the ends of the axon!" Cameron jerked awake. The pen slipped from his hand and clattered onto the floor. His eyes blinked open. It was still dark.
The monotone resumed: "At least six hormones, all controlled by feedback loops, are produced by cells of the pars distalis. STH, or somatotrophic hormone, 3,500 to 5,000 Angstrom range; LTH, luteotropic hormone, 6,000 Angstroms; ACTH..."
At two o'clock the lights burst alive overhead; a hundred bodies launched themselves out of the amphitheater. "God, Cameron, I cracked up when you woke up in there!" 5 "Did I make a lot of noise?"