Home Planet: Arcadia (Part 3)

by Sedgwick, T. J.

  And just past the unlit fireplace in the far right corner her blonde hair caught my eye. It was Juliet, back from the dead, just as I remembered her. I stood, unable to move, unable to avert my gaze. My heart pounded in my chest moments before she looked up and saw me, smiling and getting up from her chair. The room faded to nothing but a corridor of sentience between Juliet and me. She stood, waiting, her headed tilted, her face trying to confirm my identity. Despite the fact she’d never seen my avatar before, I guessed even AI avatars didn’t stand there staring for no reason. She waved me over, watching me all the way, as I drew nearer.

  Her face was just as I remembered it. This was like a dream but more tangible, more lifelike.

  “Dan?”

  Her voice did something to me inside. It awakened emotions I hadn’t felt for over four years.

  “Yes, Juliet, it’s me.”

  We held one another, my mind retrieving past memories to fill in what my body couldn’t feel. A thousand emotions churned in my heart as my eyes became moist.

  “I thought I’d lost you forever,” I said.

  “Oh Dan,” she said, crying.

  “But you’ve been here waiting for me all this time...”

  We held each other close until our tears stopped coming, then moved apart so I could see her face.

  “Is my avatar crying?” I said.

  “No,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Not like mine.”

  I looked her up and down and saw no baby bump.

  “I had my body scan modified,” she said, sadly. “Couldn’t face the daily reminder of what happened.”

  “Oh, I see... Understandable.”

  The situation was too surreal for my mind to fully assimilate. It’d take time to get used to this, but I’d had no one else in the four years I’d experienced since her death. To me, it was as though she’d been mysteriously abducted for four years then returned. That was how I tried to rationalize it, anyway.

  “Let’s sit,” she said, picking up her glass of red, watching it, swishing it around.

  “When did you find out I’d made it?” I said.

  She looked up, forcing a bittersweet smile.

  “A week ago—Nikki called me.”

  Only a flicker of the warmth I remembered was showing in her eyes. Maybe it was because what she saw wasn’t me, but just some computer-generated avatar.

  “I... I never knew you’d been mind-scanned before you died.”

  “The project needed volunteers. If the Lifeworks CEO wasn’t prepared to do it we could hardly expect Joe and Jane Public to do the same... Look, I was going to tell you and it wasn’t going to be my last mind-scan. After all, I had decades still ahead of me. A fiancé. A baby...”

  She took a sip of her wine.

  “No, Dan... This was just a test. Everything I am came from that single test scan.”

  “Well, thank God it worked!” I said injecting as much joy as I could in the face of whatever dark cloud hung over her. She forced a smile, but the joyful young woman I remembered had changed. There was nothing wrong with the fidelity of how she looked. No, it was how she seemed. How she came across that was all wrong.

  “You seem, different,” I said, immediately regretting my ridiculous statement.

  I mean, who wouldn’t be different after all this?

  “Sorry, silly thing to say. I mean you don’t seem that overjoyed to see me. What’s the matter?”

  She placed her hand on my shoulder, her face softening into something approaching genuine affection. Or was it sympathy or just my imagination?

  “Dan, to you it’s been four years, but I’ve been here for over five hundred,” she said, fixing her eyes on mine. “I had no idea you were alive.”

  Silence reigned and she put her hand back on her wine glass, taking a sip. Her head bowed, she exhaled, eyeing the wine she swished around in her glass.

  “You still sound the same… Bet you still look good too.”

  She looked up, attempted a tight smile.

  “Is there someone else?” I said, the weight of realization threatening to crush me.

  “Yes, Dan. I have a husband, Adam.”

  I said nothing.

  “We’ve been married for fifty years. He’s my eighth husband. There have been others too. Partners, boyfriends. Look Dan, I have to be straight with you. I can’t lie.”

  She said it so matter-of-factly, the news piercing my heart like a dagger. I lowered my head, unable to speak.

  Her tone softened.

  “I’m… I’m sorry, Dan. I loved you, I really did. I know that. But... but we’ve lived apart much longer than we were together—it doesn’t feel like that for you, but it does for me. Please understand that. I don’t want to hurt you, but after five hundred years … Please, don’t take this the wrong way, but I can’t remember much at all about us. No minds have ever live this long. This is uncharted territory. But one thing I can say—memories keep on fading, Dan. I can’t help that—our modeled brains work exactly how real ones do. Neural pathways wither with time.”

  “Explains why you waited a week to call for me,” I said, numbly.

  “I had to tell you, Dan—it wouldn’t have been fair to hide,” she said, her look of sympathy returning when I raised my eyes.

  She reached out and took my hand.

  “I know this must be painful, but I’d still like to be friends if you ever came to live here,” she said with a sad smile. “I’m still friends with Nikki, you know.”

  At that moment, I knew my happy future with the woman I still loved had been stolen away all over again. What she said made logical sense—I mean, who could spend five centuries alive thinking their partner was dead and never fall in love again? Not many people. Not me. But for me it hadn’t been five hundred years. My love for her was still alive.

  “I still love you, Juliet.”

  “I know, Dan, but I can’t honestly say I do... Maybe somewhere in my heart, but after all this time… I can’t help it. I hardly remember anything about you... about us.”

  Her words were cruelly true. I nodded in acceptance, trying to maintain some stoicism in the face of this hammer blow. Taking a long hard look at every feature of her face, I seared the image into my memory.

  “Goodbye, Juliet.”

  “Dan…”

  She reached for me, but without another word, I removed the headset. I got up from the chair and left the Forever World, and my dreams of a future there, behind.

  14

  My walk from Silicon Life Works to the guesthouse didn’t even register. My mind was still on autopilot when I went upstairs and lay down, still in my boots. Still reeling from the finding then losing Juliet all over again. Save for her physical appearance, I realized the woman I once knew had changed beyond all recognition. Five centuries had led to previously unimaginable changes. Thoughts and rationalizations, interspersed with fits of sorrow and anger, occupied my mind. Anger at Juliet’s murderer, anger at Reichs and the mutineers, at myself for being stupid enough to hope for things to stay like before. My eyes moistened, tears welling. There was nothing I could do to stop it even if I’d wanted to. The relief of sleep eventually came. Dreams were in short supply, and for once, I was glad to find total unconsciousness. Tomorrow was a new day. Dreams still existed, just not with Juliet.

  When I awoke, Professor Heinz’s watch read 10:05 a.m. No one had come to collect me to discuss Project Phoenix or anything else. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. The tears had come last night and only exhaustion has stemmed their flow. I felt sure they would come again. In quiet moments, while alone, while contemplating and undistracted by unrelated matters. The long sleep helped me feel better than last night. It would’ve been hard to feel much worse. To be honest, I didn’t know how to feel. I was sure the impact of seeing Juliet wouldn’t just disappear, but it was a form of closure. At least in principle. But it was a bitter pill to swallow and I knew the fallout would take a long time to fade. There was no going back to how
things were. That was clear. The fact that Juliet was still alive in some capacity warmed the part of my heart that still loved her. But it was a weak, powerless glow against the bitter wind born of half a millennium of divergence. A thousand other emotions mixed with the sense of loss. My love for her would take time to fade if it ever would. Truly loving her meant more than just wanting her for the way she made me feel. Truly loving her meant I wanted her to be happy and safe and fulfilled. She was a victim in this more than I ever was. I couldn’t condemn her—her actions were not unreasonable, given the circumstances. They still hurt like hell, though. That was rationalizing though. Some parts of me couldn’t be touched by all the rational self-argument in the world.

  I sat up in bed, took a deep breath and resolved to start with the basics of life and take it hour-by-hour, day-by-day. After taking a shower and brushing my teeth, I stood by a window in the corridor watching the street-life outside, thinking. Perhaps it was dodging my feelings, putting my head in the sand, but I felt the urge to busy myself with something. Some called it Cop Therapy. I didn’t believe in bottling things up but I did believe in managing my own thoughts and emotions. At times of introspection, the human mind strays toward hopes and fears and often of fears win out. And that was at the best of times. For me this was far from that.

  Juliet was one dimension of my life. Others still mattered and the one that mattered right now, the one I could exert some influence over was Project Phoenix. Along with the highly capable Laetitia, it was the only good thing Reichs had left behind. Having forgotten to eat last night, hunger was calling. I wandered downstairs looking for late breakfast, which Oliver the innkeeper happily obliged. After cleaning my teeth again with the wooden toothbrush and strange toothpaste, which tasted like bicarbonate of soda, I went walkabout. Despite resolving to keep busy, I changed my mind. Call it confusion. Call it indecision. All I knew was that contact with people wasn’t what I wanted right now. I needed time to think things through while trying my best to partition the fallout from Juliet. I needed to tap my logical mind. There were decisions to make and thoughts to resolve, thoughts of my future and that of humanity’s mission to Aura.

  Passing through the town square in late morning, I still marveled once again at the dome city. Anything to distract from the devastation in my heart. I took a left toward the front entrance, a little under a mile away. The light diffusing through the translucent thermoplastic dome looked different today and inside was warmer. Patches of washed-out blue covered a little of the clouded sky above and the occasional beam of sunlight founds its way into the city. In many ways, the dome was similar to the habitation modules the scientists had used on Mars. Now, for the most part, Earth had become another inhospitable planet. Not as bad as Mars, but nothing like the verdant home world it once was. It still had a breathable atmosphere and eco-systems persisted in at least some places, but I doubted if it’d support another great civilization again. Not for millennia, perhaps not for an age. I’d reached the sliding glass doors back on autopilot, noticing little more about the bustling city, a biome in its own right. The fresh air and change of scene brought me back to my senses. Ahead lay the shuttle, to the left the forested slopes of the mountain ridges and to my right the ocean. I put on my fleece and passed two hunters each carrying a wild boar. They’d stopped and were pointing at the shuttle discussing its features, trying to work out its secrets.

  “Morning guys,” I said, trying to be cheerful, continuing to walk on by.

  “Oh, good morning, Dan,” said one hunter, then the other.

  It didn’t surprise me they knew my name in such a small community.

  The shoreline to my right was rocky and barren, the sea choppy despite the relatively good weather. Icebergs dotted the horizon, closing in like advanced elements of fall’s ice invasion. Less than a mile ahead was the fishing jetty. A single fishing boat and two rowing boats were moored on the near side. On the other side, the silver twin-engine seaplane bobbed up and down in the swell. As I continued on, the coast swept around in front of me to a point maybe two miles away. Prominent on the rocky outcrop there sat the stout ruins of a round building. I guessed from its location and shape it had once functioned as a lighthouse. Several figures worked on the jetty and fishing boats, yet the lighthouse seemed deserted, so that’s where I headed.

  Half an hour later, I rounded the ruined lighthouse with its missing top level, its skin stripped down to bare concrete. I found a rock and sat down, looking out to sea. Waves crashed on the rocks below. Their rhythm possessed a hypnotic quality, sending me into my thoughts. Questions and decisions weighed on my mind. A choice of three worlds—here, the Forever World or Aura. Each had its plusses and minuses. They’d already told me there’d be a place for me on Hawaii should I wish to call it home. I could settle here, take up a role—maybe as a cop, maybe something else. Friendships would be made, romances could bloom then marriage, kids and growing old. And then what? Get uploaded to the Forever World before quitting this mortal coil and I guess joining the immortal coil if there was such a thing.

  Or maybe it wasn’t immortality at all. If the Hive didn’t exist then neither would the Forever World. One day, it may be destroyed. It could be a simple fire—I hadn’t seen much evidence of a fire department. Or something bigger could eventually befall Hawaii with nowhere else to run to or to lend assistance. Half a millennium in which Juliet had gone from beloved wife-to-be to a virtual stranger. A seemingly cold-hearted one at that. I censured myself to put those thoughts back in their box and channel my mind back to constructive thoughts. Civilization seemed to have retrenched to this last bastion and stayed for half a millennium. Hardly surprising given the global ice age. The community at Koko Crater was well established—it’d been here in one form or another for over five centuries. Aulani had told me of past struggles for the colony’s survival. The population had fallen on many occasions only to recover again. Who knew how the devastated climate would change in future? She’d also told me that the Earth may take hundreds of thousands of years to recover. The Chicxalub impact that killed off the dinosaurs had had that effect. So whatever happened, the relatively prosperous, harmonious society was about as good as it was going to get. For me, the bottom line was that it was just too small, too limited for what I’d envisaged my life would be. I knew that fulfillment was a higher-level goal than the simple survival of most twenty-sixth century people. If they wanted to do anything but lead the limited life available here they’d need to go to the Forever World.

  And then I thought of Mom and Nikki. Had I become a distant figment of their imaginations too, as I had with Juliet? It seemed not, but perhaps they were just being nice. Doing what they thought they should do rather than what they felt. If it were true that their modeled minds worked like biological brains, then it was a real possibility. Hell, I couldn’t remember some people very well from high school and that was only a decade and a half ago.

  Despite finding the Forever World and Hawaii, my goal of reaching Aura had never really gone away. The fast recon probes had confirmed what the Helios telescope array had already told—it was the closest thing to a second Earth anywhere in the cosmic neighborhood. The thought of founding a new civilization on a pristine planet filled me with hope and excitement. It lifted my spirits after all the death and destruction I’d seen. It drove me on and gave my life meaning. The Juno Ark would take years to make operational if it could be done at all. It was a one-time deal—a technological wonder, a gift from the twenty-first century. If it failed there’d be nothing like it again for hundreds if not thousands of years.

  I felt the weight of historic responsibility on my shoulders. I wasn’t alone, but I knew I had an important role to play. I’d use the Project Phoenix years to try to reconnect with Mom and Nikki. Whatever happened, though, I had to find a way to get the Forever World onto the Juno Ark. How to do this was a mystery to me, but it was an imperative. Without it, the number of colonists who’d sign up would be small. For a self-sustainin
g population on Aura, we’d need a bare minimum of two thousand, although far more would be better. How could we ask the people of Hawaii to give up immortality for an uncertain mission to a star system sixteen light-years away? Most of these people had never even flown, let alone gone into space. It was what I wanted, but would anyone else?

  Sitting still for so long had brought a chill to my bones. The bitter northerly wind seemed to be winning out against the occasional bursts of sunlight sneaking between the fast-moving clouds. I got up, deciding to retrace my steps and put my ideas to Baas, Patton and Aulani. As I headed back toward the city, three questions swam around in my mind. First, could the Forever World be copied to the Juno’s network? Second, and longer term, would we have enough takers to colonize Aura? Without the Forever World, the odds would be stacked against us I feared. And finally, would Project Phoenix actually work; could we salvage humankind’s last hope of a new start on another planet?

  Another boat had returned with its catch, which a group of fishers landed on the jetty as I passed. Another set of workers wearing hardhats and coveralls streamed into the dome’s main entrance. I guessed they were rig workers on their way home. As the last of them disappeared inside, the athletic catsuit-wearing figure of Laetitia emerged from the sliding doors, her blonde hair flowing as soon as the wind hit it. We soon met near the back of the shuttle.

  “Good morning, Mr. Luker,” she said with a pleasant smile. “There is something I need to tell you.”

  “I’m intrigued.”

  “As well you should be—the council is debating Project Phoenix. Mr. Patton has tabled a motion to halt it.”

  “What?” I said in surprise. “Why?”

  “Come on, let us walk and talk—they are debating it right now.”

  So we headed into the city and toward the town hall in the square at a half-jog. We arrived inside the crowded council chamber and found seats in the public seating area. A large circle of tables took up most of the large chamber with its wooden trussed ceiling and stone surfaces. Four long wooden benches behind a railing made up the public area.