No Life but Immortality - available at last!
The convicted criminal Geryon Lindon becomes the first human to have his personality transferred to virtual space.
After tossing and turning in bed for two hours, spending an hour and a half reading, and then admiring the dance of the spotted stingrays in the aquarium, the cyberpsychologist got up, pulled her unruly dark red curls behind her ears, put a dark purple nightgown on her naked body, and brought her wrist to her lips. A flexible metal bracelet—the communicator—was curled around it like a little snake.
“Currently, we’re not yet able to clearly decipher the thoughts of Number Six, or Shadow, as he calls himself,” Pandora said. “I have strong suspicions that Shadow is a much better copy of the original and is much less damaged than he currently seems. To be honest, I’m worried about what will happen to him next when we polish the technology enough to bring it to the market. Huh, it seems like I’m getting too attached to him. Though so damaged, he’s still our highest achievement.”
Pandora paused and quickly looked at the glass wall, studying her reflection. Her own voice sounded repulsive and alien. Behind the glass, the stingrays went on playing, curving their deadly tails. Unfortunately, it was impossible to talk to them and share her anxiety. For the first time in many years, Pandora wished someone else was in her bed. Here, in the Njord, she didn’t even have a cat. She must have been too confident if she had decided that two numb and indifferent water creatures could lighten her loneliness.
Pandora was short, with a flat chest, an angular face, and a nose that was too prominent to be considered pretty. However, her bright blue eyes, as well as her plump, sensuous lips and long copper-colored hair, provided a pleasing contrast to her sharp features. With all her imperfections, Pandora, the best student in her class—Nautilus didn’t hire mediocre specialists—was at least quite an engaging companion. Not to mention her intelligence, perseverance, and energy—all qualities that charm people of any gender. If she wanted, Pandora could marry anyone or enjoy free love; she had no lack of admirers.
But these desires cooled down in her rather quickly since, by age twenty, the girl realized that her love for science outweighed the probable delights of romance and motherhood. Romance, in her opinion, was the straightest path to disappointment. Quite early, she learned the true value of compliments and love confessions. She despised the senseless fuss under the blanket, stood firmly on her own feet, and preferred to make friends rather than lovers. After all, an orgasm lasted less than a minute, so why bother in the first place? At the Njord, cool introverts like her were welcomed with open arms, while emotional instability, jealousy, and scandals were regarded as threats to security.
Nevertheless, families were also welcome—especially if these families were created within the corporation. The company, founded in the middle of the twenty-first century by the “evolution enthusiast” Howard Reed, was home to generations of employees.
The cyberpsychologist cooled her face with water, changed into a sports suit, and put on a pair of vapor-soft slippers. Since I still can’t fall asleep, she thought, I’d better try to communicate with Shadow again. We haven’t yet had much one-on-one contact.
She heard no extraneous sounds in the hall except the sniffling ventilation system. There was no movement, no cleaning robots on the green matte floor that absorbed the sound of footsteps. She went upstairs and placed her hand on the black panel on the smoked glass door, which, three seconds later, moved aside and let the scientist into the spacious mirrored cabin.
After Pandora had selected her destination, a deep male voice offered her choices of cold and hot drinks.
As always, she took a cup of the most robust coffee with double sugar. In recent days, it had become her primary fuel and almost replaced food.
As always, Pandora didn’t have time to finish her coffee on her way to the lab.
And as always, at the door, goosebumps ran down her shoulders due to the powerful cooling system of the local server. Pandora touched the desk, awakening the holographic monitor. The image of a nautilus mollusk with the caption “We see in depth” twinkled in turquoise light.
“Nice to see you, Pandora.” The speakers sounded unexpectedly loud, forcing the woman to instinctively step back.
“Jeez,” she murmured.
The program was designed so Shadow could launch it on his own initiative, but he had never done this before. Besides, until now, Pandora and other employees had to introduce themselves to him every time they wanted to communicate.
The scientists found that the transition had affected his long-term memory, which was far from the only damage that had occurred. Most of all, their first quality copy resembled a patient with senile dementia. “Shadow, Pandora good,” “Roll red ball,” “Play pictures.” That was nearly all he was able to say. By the word “pictures,” Shadow meant standard intelligence tests, in which it was necessary to supplement a couple of photos or drawings with one of the proposed ones. Fifteen correctly selected images out of a hundred were his best result.
Therefore, the so-called success of Professor Victor Chen, the author of the project proudly named Immortal Soul, could be considered as such only conditionally. And Nautilus would need new condemned murderers to expand on the technology that promised to immortalize the richest people on the planet.
Besides probable copying errors, one of the causes of Shadow’s mental disabilities could be the psychic instability of the original—a convicted serial killer—and the significant amount of chemical inhibitors that suppressed his brain activity during the last stage of his transition.
During the preparation that took several months, the man twice spoke on behalf of a woman he had killed, wholeheartedly believing that he was her. Pandora wondered if the experiment should be carried on and if it was even legal to bring a man with a severe mental condition to Njord. However, Chen was sure this circumstance would only add value to the research.
“Do you recognize me?” the cyberpsychologist asked in awe, looking into the small black eye of the camera aimed at her. Damn, I chose the right moment to get out of bed!
“Sure,” replied Shadow’s calm, confident voice.
“Will you show yourself?” Pandora asked, turning on the audio recording on the computer. “You see me, but I can’t see you. That’s unfair.”
“I just don’t want to,” Shadow responded. As far as the woman knew, the voice belonged to the “original”: Geryon Lindon. It was crucial to help the “immortal soul” maintain awareness of his personality in the new world.
“Don’t you like your avatar? It was made after the real you.”
“I hate the animations,” he explained. “I prefer to have no face at all than to have a wooden doll’s expressions.”
“But you can select an avatar from the ready-made ones and modify it to your taste.”
“There’s a small choice in rotten apples. You better tell me why you’re awake at this hour.”
“I had a bad dream about you,” she lied, “and came to see if you were okay.”
“Wow! You might be a telepath!”
He is joking! Son of a bitch! Pandora felt her stomach twist with excitement. Can it be that Victor has really created a fully functioning mind copy? Have we finally worked this magic after decades of failure?