I am awake. What is this cell? Blackness, emptiness, where am I? How long have I been here?

"Ok, Congressman Jones, Dr. Spears, now for the final leg of the University tour. I am Professor Colin Shelley; please step through here. You are now to witness the jewel in our crown. The fruits of our exploration into organ on a chip."

Shelley led them through the laboratory. Rows of partially lit fume hoods lined the room's left, and a larger biosafety cabinet was positioned in the far-left corner. Benches with various apparatus and glassware were laid out uniformly, and the group had to wind through them. Shelley halted them by the biosafety cabinet. 

"Chip? Like a microchip? A computer chip?" Spears asked, pushing her red hair back over her ears.

"Isn't this a biology department?" Jones added, adjusting his tie and suit jacket.

"You are correct, Congressman... and Dr. Spears, they are fluidic chips, microfluidic, to be exact. Fluidics at the scale of the micrometer. In this laboratory, we involve ourselves in the development of miniature fluidic systems to downsize and mimic larger biological and chemical processes. You see, great advances were made in understanding fluidic dynamics in the 1980s, and the last four decades have witnessed a wave of these systems. Everything from miniature chemical reactors to miniature diagnostic tools. A glorious merger of science and engineering."

No sound, no smells, no light, only black. What is this prison?

"I see," said Jones, "...and why do we do this? What is the benefit of these miniaturized systems?"

"Good question!" Shelley fired back. "Well... by downsizing these processes onto microfluidic chips, we can experiment with much smaller quantities and volumes, providing the same answers but at a much lower cost and often much more quickly. The platform also allows us to create hermetically sealed fluidic systems that are not susceptible to contamination. Finally, and this is the exquisite part, we can connect multiple experimental units or compartments to one another via microfluidic channels on a single chip. Isn't that neat?"

"Hmmm," Jones uttered sharply.

Shelley then directed their attention to several small glass chips on shelving on the adjacent wall to the right of the biosafety cabinet. All were rectangular with varying proportions, ranging from ten to fifty square inches. Upon closer inspection, the visitors observed intricate architectures of channels and chambers within the chips, all unique to one another. Shelley took one from the shelf and handed it to Jones. Spears leaned in, pushing back her hair again. Her eyes wandered over the thin channels and circular chambers. "The architecture reminds me of a subway map," she joked to Jones.

"Perhaps," said Shelley, listening in and chuckling. When the chips are prepared with their functional contents, they look very different. Actually, the chip you are holding there was designed to perform DNA fingerprinting. Of great interest to the police, that one."

"Very good, Professor Shelley," said Jones, handing the chip to Spears. After a brief glance, she returned it to Shelley, who placed it back on the shelf.

"Very good, indeed," Shelley agreed. "That brings me to the marvelous creation I have prepared for you today. Over the last 20 years, several of my peers, many very talented individuals, have shown that those compartments, we call them microfluidic chambers, can be used to house tissue or even miniature organs."

I am here, I am thinking. Only I think of nothing. Only space defines me. Infinite space, dark space. 

"Organs?!" Spears asked. "What kind of organs? Surely, organs don't fit onto your microfluidic chips. Mouse organs?"

Shelley then pointed through the transparent shutter of the biosafety cabinet to a microfluidic chip illuminated by the bright white bulbs inside. The chip was eight inches by four inches with a thickness of no more than half an inch. Distributed through it were five small masses of organic tissue.

"It is an interesting misconception," Shelley began, "that the organ must be present in its entirety to mechanically function. The truth is we can take simple slices of an organ, and if we provide the correct conditions, it will act as if in the body. Take the heart, for example; we can take a slice and place it in a dish, and it will beat. The liver, kidney, and lung all will function in some capacity. Moreover, when incubated side-by-side, the functionality can be combined, as it would be within the body. We can introduce drugs, infections, all in controlled settings, see how the mini organs react, and more importantly, how the system responds as a whole." 

I feel present in my surroundings. I sense complexity, but the complexity of what? Mere sensation, presence, muffled presence, in a space. 

"Where do these slices come from? Who are the lucky donors?" Spears asked.

"Great question," Shelley answered, "We have ties with the local hospital, who are more than willing to collaborate with us on such game-changing research. I am not deeply involved with the paperwork, but I could put you in touch with someone who is. The matter is maybe one for discussion over a glass of wine after this evening's plenary."

"The heart beats in that thing?!" asked Jones. As he said this, he removed his jacket and rested it on a nearby stool.

"Indeed, it does, Congressman."

"Is it beating now?" added Spears.

"Yes and no. With the correct culture, a supply of oxygen, and electrical stimulation, we can render the heart active, and it will beat as if it were part of a living organism. Until five minutes ago, when it was brought into this laboratroy for demonstration, it was receiving all of those things. Interestingly, we see activity in these slices often long after our experimental inputs have stopped."

I know nothing, but there is an ache. Sadness without cause. Now a warmth. Joy without reason. The niggles of nothingness. Comfort and discomfort in their purest forms.

The group stared through the glass shutter in silence for several seconds. Spears glanced around the laboratory to see two students passing through, laughing with each other. One girl held a stack of glass chips in her left hand while carrying a backpack over her right shoulder. The girl accompanying her was mid-conversation, laughing and gesticulating wildly, and neither looked over before leaving the room on the far side.

Shelley caught Spears' eye and grinned. "I have a sociable team, Dr. Spears. I like it that way. Their creativity dips in isolation. The best thing for collective progress is that the students all get along." He began to push buttons on the right-side panel of the biosafety cabinet.

"I tell you what," Shelley continued, "we have some privacy here now. We can get a closer look with this glass raised." He pushed a button, which slowly raised the glass shutter. Both Spears and Jones leaned in.

"Is that what I think it is?" said Spears, pointing to a small mass reminiscent of a squashed walnut inside the end-most chamber of the chip.

"Well," Shelley began, laughing, "that depends on what you think it is. But I think your psychologist's eye is on the money here. It is, of course, a miniature cutting of the brain."

"Human brain?" Spears asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Indeed, all our organs are human, Dr. Spears. Though no one chip contains multiple organs from a single donor."

"How thoughtful," Spears replied, widening her eyes. "Well, how much functionality does that slice of brain have?". 

Darkness, but warped darkness, moving like flowing black sand. 

"Oh, we are only looking for firings at this stage. Nothing complex. It is only a small section of the brain, remember. We interrupt the heartbeat, monitor the brain activity, introduce a narcotic for the liver to process, and again monitor the brain. Simple firings, Dr. Spears. Basic neuronal firings."

Thoughts emerge but do not form. Sparks and imagery. What is this prison of darkness?

"But what about those experiments with the Corpus callosum, Professor?" Spears continued.

"Callosum?" Jones interrupted.

"Corpus Callosum, Congressman. Dr. Spears refers to the mid-twentieth-century surgical procedure performed on epilepsy patients. The Corpus Callosum consists of many tightly wound fibers that connect the left and right hemispheres of the brain. Severing these fibers and, thus, separating the two hemispheres was found to alleviate symptoms of epilepsy; however, several experiments in the following years demonstrated that the two hemispheres were functioning independently. Really wild stuff! I suspect Dr. Spears is concerned that our trace cutting of brain tissue is somehow conscious."

"And?" Spears asked.

"All our understanding of the brain tells us this would not be the case. We would expect a slice of this size to be incapable of consciousness or harbor residual memories."

I am here with black threads of nothing. Flashes of faces, eyes, smiles. I see eyes mirrored, but I am subordinated by gods. I feel love, regret, longing. In the darkness, there is form, but it is quickly gone again.

"Remarkable," Jones muttered to himself. Spears gave him a side-eye.

Despite my confusion, I am present. I am only thought, pure thought. My pain and joy are ephemeral. 

In this moment, Jones leaned forward, picking up the chip.

Shelley tightened up. "You really need gloves for that?" he warned, holding his hands up and wiggling his fingers.

"Nonsense, Professor. As you said, your marvelous microfluidic chips are enclosed and insusceptible to contamination. I suspect my hands are as safe as if handling soap."

Jones inspected the chambers up close, gawping at the intricacies of the glass architecture and the bare flesh inside. "Absolutely remarkable," he again muttered to himself. "It's like holding the fundamentals of a human being in the palm of your…"

"…Several human beings, Congressman," Spears interrupted.

"But all the ingredients are there," said Jones, without taking his eyes off the chip.

"How about the soul?" Spears asked. 

"Hmmm," Jones replied, bringing the device closer to his face. 

I am free. The walls are infinite. They blend into the infinite. The faces, the flickers, no cause, no consequence, only presence. Infinity outward, backward, and forward, not in time, but in existence.

Shelley watched him closely, and he began tapping his fingertips on the glass of the biosafety cabinet. "Perhaps we should be moving on, Congressman. These are all prototypes, you must understand."

"But the potential…" Jones began. "Conceptually, this must be the beginning of something world-changing. You talk about drug response or whatever, but you're building functional lifeforms in here. This could spark advancements worthy of the Nobel Prize, Shelley." As he said this, he passed the chip to his right, startling Dr. Spears. She lifted her hand in surprise, and the chip was knocked into the air, spinning to the ground and shattering. 

All is calm in the infinite. My presence shields me from th…

"Oh damn," said Shelley. 

The three stared at the mixture of shattered glass and human tissue on the floor. Spears took a short step backward while Jones checked his shirt for debris.

"My apologies, Professor Shelley," said Jones. 

"Oh, it's not a problem, Congressman. I feel you have seen enough to whet your appetite and those of your colleagues."

"Absolutely, Shelley. My butterfingers haven't set your research back in any way, have they?" 

"Fear not, Congressman. This chip was merely brought out for demonstration. Our biosafety level 2 laboratory up the hall currently has chips such as these numbering in the thousands. Many have been active for over a year. Please step back. We will have this mess cleaned up in no time."