The magnetic lights accompanied them almost all the way across the dark side. So close to its sun, Krungthep had to be exposed to the solar wind to a significant degree. What did that mean for their health? It didn’t matter. If they could only find the Artificials and get them to abandon their plan, all their wishes would be fulfilled.
She felt stirring from inside the cocoon. Kasfok must still be alive. She could not tell him why they still had not landed. Or could she? With each beat of her wings, she had a few moments to set the strap into vibrations that Kasfok might understand. She searched for a brief message that would be felt clearly enough under the circumstances.
Patience, friend, she finally transmitted through the strap.
Review: Earth 3404 A.D
Four helpers lifted the gaunt, almost emaciated-looking body of Martin Jordan out of the floating bed and gently placed him on the padded transfer plinth. One of the aides was Tasso, who had changed little in the nearly 90 years that had passed since his creation. The few upgrades had only slightly modified his body, but his mind had undergone a more significant evolution. To an outsider, Tasso had long been indistinguishable from a human being.
Martin Jordan had refused to take the step to a virtual incarnation before the process of ego transfer would be perfected under his direction. Since Alexandra had been the first to give up her physical existence in favor of a virtual one six years ago, thousands had already followed her. Hesitantly at first, the slow trickle had soon become a torrent.
Since Jordan had constructed an interface that enabled the transferees to communicate with the inhabitants of the natural world, more and more members of the elite had come forward with each passing month to inquire about the possibility of an ego transfer for themselves or their elderly family members. The process was still too complicated and costly to be made available to all who wanted to use it, but Jordan’s latest improvements had also brought that within reach.
But age had finally caught up with him.
In recent days, Martin Jordan had rapidly deteriorated despite receiving the best possible medical care. The sudden onset of multiple organ failure had doctors measuring his remaining life in days, or at best a few weeks. His 130-year-old body would not tolerate any further invasive medical procedures. A replacement of the failing organs by cybernetic implants was therefore out of the question.
Death could no longer be tricked, at least in the real world.
Just before he was about to fall into a coma, Jordan had ordered preparations for his ego transfer. He had primarily entrusted this task to Tasso, who had not only served him as an assistant over the years, but had become a friend.
He was looking forward to seeing Alexandra again in the simulated world instead of only being able to communicate with her by employing a holographic projection of her virtual body—although this projection was a pleasant sight, he had to admit. But now it was time to meet his rejuvenated albeit still virtual companion, but with himself in the body of a virtual man in his mid-20s, rather than as a physically existing but frail old man.
Much of the transfer process had been automated in recent years, and thus the probe hood slipped over Jordan’s head without any external intervention. Only the venous access had to be placed by hand, which Tasso was doing at that moment. Martin Jordan hardly felt a thing from all this. He had been getting progressively worse over the past few hours, and the many medications administered had put him into a kind of twilight sleep. But he was awake enough to open his eyes once again.
With some effort, he reached for Tasso’s hand, which was busy fixing the IV in the crook of his arm. “I don’t want to leave without thanking you for the last ninety years.” Jordan’s voice sounded brittle and was barely audible.
“I’ll be able to talk to you again soon, old friend,” the robot replied. “As soon as you’re settled in the simulation, we’ll be able to communicate through the quantum interface.”
“A hologram and an audio signal are a weak substitute for real communication,” the old man replied. “No touch, no smell... Nothing real!”
“But you will be alive! Virtual life is always better than real, final death.”
“A life which then won’t be so different from yours. Also, my ‘I’ will then consist only of a quantum matrix, like yours!”
“We’ll never be the same, Martin,” Tasso said, and Martin could almost believe he heard a trace of sadness resonating. “You humans always say we Artificials don’t have souls. Do you believe that, too?”
Talking clearly strained Jordan. He closed his eyes and did not answer Tasso’s question for a long time. Seconds passed, and the robot had already assumed that the anesthetic had taken effect when Jordan muttered something as if to himself. Tasso had to set the input sensitivity of his audio receptors to maximum power to hear Jordan’s last words, which were interrupted by pauses.
“We have... created... you Artificials. We... are not gods, just scientists... technicians.” Jordan took one deep, rattling breath. “Only gods can... can give souls... to their creatures. I... am sorry, my friend.”
Martin Jordan first saw a few dozen virtual incarnations cheering him—grateful people who owed their continued life as ego simulations to his invention.
Since Alexandra’s transfer, everyone who followed had known what was in store for them. Alexandra’s experiences had made the way easier for all those who wanted to transfer into the simulated reality. Thus, no one had to wake up in a monochrome environment. Using the person’s transferred memories, the security program created an environment where the virtual incarnation would likely feel comfortable. Only when this simulation had been created was the virtual incarnation of the newcomer manifested.
This is what happened in Martin’s case. Welcoming him was quite easy, because Alexandra knew in which simulated environment he would feel immediately comfortable.
The welcoming committee had gathered on the perfect, white sandy beach of an island. The small waves of turquoise water from the shallow lagoon reflected the glistening light of the midday sun high in the sky in tiny flashes of light. Martin immediately recognized the environment Alexandra had manifested to greet him.
Here, where they had spent their first vacation together.
Not here, of course, but on the real island in the physical universe on a real planet, Martin mentally corrected himself. In the real world. This is only a simulation, albeit a perfect one.
Nevertheless, he was pleased with the gesture. His first thoughts as a virtual incarnation were not about his physical passing away just a few seconds ago and the fact that he was no longer alive, but about carefree moments in happy times. These were of times long before he and Alexandra had been the focus of public interest, when they could still lead an unobserved life.
At the beginning of the commercial ego transfer, some test persons had begun to suffer from serious psychological problems directly after their awakening as virtual incarnations—a handful had even demanded their immediate deletion. Psychologists had unanimously argued that the knowledge of one’s death could trigger severe depression, which could best be countered with memories of happy moments from real life.
An environment that triggered such joyful memories was recommended as a simulation for the first moments in the new virtual incarnation, as was the greeting by familiar or beloved persons who had already taken the step of ego transfer. These two measures had all but eliminated the psychological problems of the new transferees.
In Jordan’s case, too, both proved true. Alexandra stood in front of him, beaming. Jordan was almost shocked at how beautiful she looked, almost more beautiful than he remembered her from that time. She wore a semi-transparent sarong that accentuated her figure rather than covering it. He saw that he was dressed in a spotless white suit of a wonderfully light fabric.
Perhaps she had optimized her virtual appearance, he wondered involuntarily.
Then he had to laugh at himself because it didn’t matter. In the simulation,
anyone could change their appearance at any time as they saw fit or advantageous. Alexandra could have stood before him as a 120-year-old old woman if she had so desired. So, what difference did it make if she had made her skin more flawless, her waist a little slimmer, her breasts a little larger, and her legs a little longer than they had been in reality? He, too, could make his minor physical imperfections disappear any time he felt like it.
He took Alexandra in his arms, laughing, to the applause of those present. It was amazing how real she felt. “Finally,” he said. “I’ve had to wait too long for this.”
“I could have had a simulated Martin appear to me at any time,” Alexandra countered. “But I wanted the original and not a simulated copy.”
“The original? I’m not sure how ‘original’ I am.” He pointed to his chest. “This is just a collection of Qbits in a quantum matrix.”
“It’s the spirit that counts, Darling,” Alexandra said, and Jordan remembered that she had used those very words six years ago at the farewell before her own ego transfer. “And this is your spirit, this is you, no matter what incarnation you stand before me in!”
Martin squeezed Alexandra tightly against him once again. It felt incredibly good, and to his astonishment, physical cravings arose in him that he hadn’t felt in decades.
Alexandra noticed it as well.
“If that’s not a pipe in your pocket, you seem very happy to see me!”
Martin grinned at her. “I’m surprised how strongly the subconscious can influence even our virtual bodies.”
“Fortunately, that’s the way it is. Imagine if we had to constantly, consciously, keep everything here manifest —our environment and every little detail in our everyday lives. That would be tedious and almost unbearable. We would not be able to do anything else. In this way, however, our subconscious takes the main work off our hands, and we only have to actively and personally manifest the details that are important to us.”
“Well then, now you know what’s important to my subconscious right now!”
Jordan waved to the many people, mostly unknown to him, who had gathered to greet him and were just beginning to disperse. Some simply dissolved instead of moving away—they were probably returning to their own simulation worlds. Then it occurred to him that there could well be virtual incarnations among them whom he had known in his lifetime, but who had given themselves a completely different appearance here, and therefore appeared to him as strangers. Existence as a virtual incarnation seemed to be even more confusing than he had imagined.
Martin looked around again. “Dhivehi-3,” he noted. “The water planet covered by hundreds of thousands of small islands, which looks like an oversized image of the submerged Maldives.”
“The planet where the world leaders had relocated the surviving inhabitants back then—and where we spent our first vacation together. I thought it would also be a fitting environment in which to spend our first time together in this new world.”
“That was a very nice thought. In this simulation and on this simulated island, is there also the simulated beach hut where we spent our vacation?”
Alexandra silently pointed to a spot under a cluster of palm trees. There it was, unmistakably, the hut in which they had stayed at that time. Jordan could not remember having noticed it there before.
Perhaps Alexandra had just manifested it. But that too didn’t matter.
“Is the bed there, in which we spent most of our time while in this beach hut?”
She nodded with a grin.
“Then we should check as soon as possible whether this virtual body works as well as the physical one did back then!”
“I should hope so,” Alexandra said, grabbing Martin’s hand and pulling him toward the small, palm-frond-roofed beach hut.
5th of Zuhn, 299
The target came closer. The inclination of the field lines was already below ten degrees, so the shadow zone had to be in the immediate vicinity. What about Kasfok? He hadn’t moved for hours. Kimi closed her eyes briefly. She couldn’t think about that now. Instead, she had to show patience. Everything in her urged her to fly faster to save her passenger, but they’d had to slow down ever since they had flown over the North Pole. Fortunately, they were helped by the planet’s jet stream, a cold air current that ran from the dark to the light side. To reach it, they’d had to reduce their altitude.
Slowly, the horizon brightened. Or was she mistaken? Details were not yet visible. She pulled on the strap, and Norok responded with a quick up-nod. He saw the light, too.
Finally, it was time for their descent!
The ruins of skyscrapers loomed below them like the teeth of an ichthyos. This planet did not offer much space between the two extremes of temperature, so the people had most efficiently made use of the available moderate zone. Why had they built up Krungthep, of all places? Perhaps Alexa would be able to tell them. Did all the planets of the humans look like this today? What tragedy had taken place here?
A heavy bombardment had apparently destroyed the city below them. There was not a single undamaged building. The devastation was so methodical that there had to be a system behind it, a system that looked for efficiency even in war. Was that a characteristic of the Artificials? Kimi, Norok, and Kasfok had to know who they were dealing with if they wanted to stop the destruction of the solar system. Alexa must surely know already.
The strap jerked. Norok moved his beak back and forth and adjusted his wings slightly. It was light enough to dare a landing. In front of them was an open area that seemed to be overgrown with bushes. They would not find a better place to land, as there was debris everywhere else. Kimi leaned slightly to the left. Thus, their descent took on a helical trajectory.
The cocoon on their transport strap swung back and forth in a wide arc. Wing length by wing length, they approached the ground. What they had thought were bushes were tree-high plants, but they had no trunks. Instead, they stretched long leaves toward the landing Iks, arranged downwind. When they reached the height of most of the houses, the wind died down.
Kimi took a deep breath. The air was good and smelled of lemon moss, like a jungle in the home world. The cocoon touched one of the long leaves. As expected, the leaf proved flexible. They dove beneath the canopy with their load, and the sky, which had just been gray, turned green.
The ground was surprisingly bare. It appeared as if no other plants could survive in the shade of the dense foliage. Norok pulled again on the strap. Landing. Kimi stretched her beak upward to protect the cocoon. She touched down springily, got down on her knees, and set the cocoon down.
“Gschfft.”
At this sound, the strap slipped from her beak.
“At last!” Norok said, pecking at the opening of the cocoon.
Kimi helped him. The closure was tough, but it offered no resistance to their sharp beaks. They tugged the cocoon open. Just behind the opening was the pillar with Alexa. Norok pulled her out. She was dark.
“Kasfok,” Kimi called out.
Norok put his head into the cocoon.
“... sh... off... him,” she heard.
Norok’s head jerked back and forth several times, then slowly reappeared. He had a black hairy leg in his beak.
“What about him?” asked Kimi.
“I don’t know. He’s not moving.”
“We have to open the cocoon completely,” Kimi said. “We’ll never, ever get him through the entrance. His body is too fat.”
Suddenly the cocoon moved. A small bump appeared on the side and disappeared again. It came back and... Kasfok spoke to them! Kimi followed the rhythm tensely.
“What is it now? Will you help me?” asked Norok.
“Wait, shhh.”
Kimi searched her memory. What had Kasfok just said? Maybe those were his last words! Then she understood him.
I am not too fat!
Those were not his final words. One who was this vain was not dying. Kimi laughed, and Norok looked at her strangely.
A second hairy leg showed in the opening. The Mendrak clamped its feet around the opening and pulled first its head, then its abdomen out of the cocoon.
Kimi danced the steps of joy, and Kasfok responded with the steps of thanks. However, his feet did not yet seem to move as fast as before the start.
Was the flight exhausting? she asked.
I was stupid, Kasfok replied with surprising honesty. I thought that I would also survive the landing without slowing down my circulation. But I ran out of air after all. I just barely made it.
We are very happy about that, said Kimi. We have also lost only one day.
Have we been out for a day?
Yes. We were too fast at the beginning and had to skim across the dark side.
“What are you guys talking about?” asked Norok. “Is Kasfok all right?”
“It’s about time,” Alexa said.
They had just come up with the idea of raising the column. Kimi had already feared that it had been damaged during the flight. Now Alexa was shining again—but the beautiful blue looked grayed beneath the green canopy.
“Can you tell us where we are?” asked Norok.
“Under a canopy of barley fern,” Alexa said, “That’s about all I can tell you. I can scan the environment with all sorts of sensors, but I don’t know any more about this place than you do.”
“You don’t even have a map?”
“Everything has changed here because of the war, Norok. Even this forest didn’t exist before. How deep in the shadow zone are we?”
“We are at about eight degrees north latitude, at least assuming there is no anomaly in the inclination of the magnetic field here.”
“Inclination of the magnetic field?” asked Alexa.
“You don’t know what inclination is?” asked Norok.
“I was just translating Kasfok’s question for you. The base of the column can measure Kasfok’s vibrations.”
Helium 3: Death from the Past (Helium-3 Book 2) Page 11
