Avery listened intently as Cadence repeated all of her findings of the spectrum analysis through the video feed from Earth. Periodically glancing at the sleeping form of Chase, Avery made sure that they were not disturbing him, as Cadence's voice was coming loud through the speaker.
"His entire neuromatrix is different from that of an average person," Cadence concluded. "His beta wave production is low, and his dopaminergic neurotransmission system is faulty. That's why psy doesn't work on him."
"Is the psy failure related to the ADHD, or are they two separate things?" Avery asked.
"They're the same thing, except the term ADHD does not adequately describe the actual disorder in his brain. Attention and hyperactivity are only two of many symptoms. His faulty dopamine neurotransmission effects how the reward center of his brain works. It's why he is always getting into trouble."
Avery frowned, "How do reward centers relate to getting into trouble?"
"Because differentiating between right and wrong is largely based on this system, and his lack of dopamine forces him to take risks and act impulsively—sometimes simply in order to feel something."
Avery frowned, somewhat stunned. "What are you saying? That he cannot feel things without taking risks?"
Cadence paused, considering her answer before responding. "He can feel emotions such as joy and happiness, but it's somewhat different from how we feel them. Everyday positive experiences are not as colorful in his brain. That's one of the reasons he jokes around and makes extreme comments. He's unconsciously coloring what he sees as gray everywhere around him. It's like he's got colorblindness of the soul."
Avery shook her head in denial of the diagnosis, recalling the time when he had worked in her garden. She could see that he was enjoying himself. And it was doing something quite simple and mundane. She also saw his expression only minutes ago, when she had put him to sleep by softly massaging his head.
Cadence took Avery's silence as a cue to continue, "The condition of his focus pathways are the most severe, though. It's extremely difficult for him to pay attention, which is why he can't remember details or organize thoughts. It's a bit like having a broken guidance system, unable to zero in on anything specific."
"Oh my," Avery breathed.
Cadence's tone became a bit more positive. "It's not all bad though—his brain is constantly compensating in order to overcome the deficiencies."
"Compensating?"
"Yes," she said. "For example, the leg bouncing. He's not doing that because he is hyperactive, it's the exact opposite. He is compensating for boredom. His mind wants to shut down because whatever is occurring around him is not stimulating enough. The leg bouncing keeps his alertness level high in order to fight off lethargy. It makes him appear hyperactive, but he's actually fighting off indolence."
"Indolence?" Avery asked.
"Yes, that's why indigena doctors treat the disorder with stimulants."
Avery shook her head. "Cadence, is any of this fixable with our technology?"
"Not without genetic knitting," she answered. "But let me finish my point. His brain has adapted to his condition in a fascinating manner. Compensations are scattered everywhere throughout his spectrum. Not only with the high creativity and problem solving that I mentioned earlier, but his ability to hyperfocus. The inability to focus on one thing has caused his brain to compensate by focusing on multiple things simultaneously."
Avery understood her point. "I see. So even if we could fix it, we shouldn't?"
"That would be up to him. His condition is both a blessing and a curse. If we were to repair his mind, while it may fix many of these problems, it would also undo the advantages caused by the condition. It would change him—considerably."
Avery shook her head emphatically. "Well, we are not going to do that then."
Cadence's laughter came through the speaker, "You're speaking as if you are his mother."
Avery exhaled deeply and leaned back in her chair. In some ways she was happy to hear that Chase's condition was not fixable. She liked him just the way he was. But he had experienced so much pain and misfortune. His life had been fraught with difficultly; certainly enough to warrant fixing such a problem. She yearned to take all of the hardship away from him.
"Cadence, if his mind has compensated, then why has his life been so difficult?"
"Probably due to the broken environmental conditions of his youth," Cadence answered. "By itself the condition is manageable, but with such a dysfunctional home, well—"
Avery sighed at Cadence's inability to finish the thought.
"Oh! Avery, I'm sorry, I have to go," Cadence said hastily. "Gavin is calling me."
"Okay. Thank you for explaining the data, Cadence."
Avery smiled wryly as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. She idly let her kitten-heel pump dangle from her toes, rocking it back and forth as she considering Cadence's report. It seemed as if the DNA analysis and sagacitas spectrum were a complete waste of time. There was no way to help him. But his unusual mind made him the person he was today—the person for which she had developed strong feelings.
She took a quick glance at him and nearly jumped in surprise. His eyes were open and looking at her.
"Hey," she smiled. "How long have you been awake?"
"Long enough to hear the tail end of your conversation," he answered, trying to sit up. "So there's no helping me, eh?"
"I think we both know that you don't need any help."
"Is that so?"
She watched him with a smile of amusement as he groggily sat up in his chair. He likely had no idea what she had planned for tonight. He would not see this coming, nor would he approve of it if he knew. He would've run to the swaproom and jumped out of the carina if he had the slightest inkling of what was about to happen.
Avery nervously took a deepbreath. "Come on. I want to show you something."
