Ray: I’ve heard two interpretations of this. One is postulating that the flapping of butterfly wings in Sumatra could cause thunderstorms in Canada a thousand years later. Another reference comes from a Ray Bradbury story where a man goes back in time several hundred million years and goes off the designated path and steps on a butterfly. The result, when he returned to his own time there was a different man as president. The point is the same in both cases.
Mrs. Altavine: Is this like spreading a rumor?
Ray: You mean the way rumors get distorted and multiplied?
Mrs. Altavine: Yes, sometimes a simple message can change history.
Bob: Aren’t we getting a bit afield? I think we all understand that small changes can get amplified into very large effects.
Ray: Yes, but what she said has direct bearing on neural processing. A small sound, like the hissing of a snake can cause billions of neurons to fire in ones brain and lead to behavior that has predictable aspects but is impossible to predict exactly. This is very much like the weather. With enough data you can make some generalizations about what kind of weather you are going to get but not for very far in the future and not with the kind of accuracy normally associated with many other physical phenomena.
Mrs. Altavine: I said that? It sounds a lot more profound coming from you.
Rev. Faintspell (returns into the garden): I’ve got something to say!
Mrs. Altavine: I thought you left! (Said with a bit of irritation)
Carolyne: Wishful thinking Mrs. Altavine?
Bob: Now, now, Carolyne, lets hear what he has to say.
Rev. Faintspell: I finally figured out what these resurrected people will be, Zombies! What you proposed is making soulless entities like the Zombies of Haiti. Like the Devil’s workshop of Voodoo worship.
Ray: Oh boy! You are a fountain of misinformation. Voodoo is a mixture of Christianity and African Animism. There is no devil worship involved here. Zombies are thought to be people that have been essentially poisoned with a compound that causes significant brain damage in areas that control volition and personality. These areas of the brain will be faithfully reproduced in neural emulators. If we emulate a Zombie we will still have a Zombie, if we emulate an Einstein we will still have an Einstein. Needless to say, there would be no object in emulating a Zombie unless we thought we could correct the condition. By the way, creating Zombies has little to do with the Voodoo religion, just with some unscrupulous people using religion for their own purposes. This is a very old story.
Rev. Faintspell: You think you have all the answers but only God has all the answers. And, God will smite you.
Ray: On your command I presume?
Carolyne: I know God and she is good and beautiful and doesn’t go around smiting people. She doesn’t keep a smote list! But, if she did, you would be on it Reverend Faintsmell.
Bob: Whoa! Let’s try not to let this get personal.
Carolyne: I’m not being personal! If I were I would jump up and strangle him. That’s personal! As you can see I’m restraining myself in this chair…barely.
Mrs. Altavine: Children! And I’m old enough to call you children. I’m interested in all of your views but want to keep things on a civil plane. Reverend Faintspell, is there something you want to add to what you already said.
Rev.: I believe that all biblical prophecy points to the destruction of the Earth by elements of what Herr Kurtz wants to bring forth.
Ray: First, I will ignore the Germanic slight and consider the source. Furthermore, taking your point of view, how do you know that what is prophesied in the Bible isn’t God’s plan since he, according to your belief, is all-powerful. After this period of judgment we are supposed to have heaven on Earth. What is more like heaven on Earth, living on the plane of pollution and pain or living on the pure virtual plane where anything is possible, pleasure is boundless and pain can only exist if you decide you want it.
Rev.: That’s your opinion!
Ray: Actually, it’s not. I was trying on your shoes.
Rev.: You’re not even close to fitting in my shoes!
Bob: Let’s not get into a shoe size war.
Mrs. Altavine: Please! I agree.
Carolyne: Wait! How do we know this isn’t the divine plan? Maybe this is the last resting place of the soul. If Mr. Kurtz is right that it’s inevitable then it must be the divine plan.
Rev.: I don’t believe it will happen because all righteous souls will fight against it. I will lead the army. It’s the Devil’s plan and it will be smashed!
Carolyne: More likely you will follow the army so you won’t get hurt, just the poor saps that believe in you will get arrested or worse.
Mrs. Altavine: I’m inclined to go with Mr. Kurtz. This sound like the greatest adventure man can engage in. Fly like an eagle, slither like a snake, become youthful again, make love to a movie star, defy gravity, grow in mental power, build relationships with other virtual beings. The list goes on and on. And you have all the time in the Universe to build on this fantastic existence.
Rev.: Where is the part where you glorify God? You see, it’s the Devil’s work.
Mrs. Altavine: I’m glad you brought that up. What kind of a supreme being needs to be glorified? That’s one I haven’t been able to figure out.
Rev.: God doesn’t need it! It’s for your own good.
Bob: Yes, but as soon as you know it’s for your own good then the jig is up. Are you saying that those in the know like yourself are going to be in a more elevated position in God’s kingdom living off the adulation of these “saved” folks?
Rev.: There are leaders and there are followers. I have been chosen by God to be a leader.
Carolyne: You are a Brahman then. Born into a leadership class.
Rev.: I’m no damn Brahman; I’m a God Fearing Christian!
Carolyne: Maybe you SHOULD fear God.
Mrs. Altavine: Okay, That’s enough. This has been a most interesting discussion. I know what my choices are and that’s all I need. All I need to do is die healthy, get my Brain frozen and wait for technology to catch up.
Ray: I don’t think you will have to wait long. Technology is racing ahead and it will be expensive at first.
Mrs. Altavine: Do you think one hundred million dollars is enough.
Everyone looks a bit startled.
Ray: You have that much?
Mrs. Altavine: I had more but I’ve had a bit of a market setback.
Rev.: You need to give all your money to God. The rich can’t get to heaven.
Mrs. Altavine: I suppose you would be glad to handle that transaction?
Rev.: I would be honored.
Carolyne: I bet you would!
Mrs. Altavine: Fat chance Reverend!
Ray: With that amount of Money you can probably be first in line. On the other hand I would advise against being first. The later you are the better the process will become, the more accurately brain features can be captured, the more neural network repair work can be done and the less destructive the process will be so that if necessary it can be repeated.
Mrs. Altavine: But won’t my brain deteriorate in cold storage?
Ray: It does but very slowly. Advancing technology will likely be able to compensate.
Mrs. Altavine: That settles it. I’m going to go shoot myself now.
Ray and Bob (in chorus): Whoa!
Mrs. Altavine: I’m just kidding! But I’m going to have to be careful and keep my brain in good shape.
Bob: I’ve heard that curry helps. Very few Indians have Alzheimer’s disease. I believe it’s the turmeric in the curry
Ray: Moderation in all things is probably the best motto.
Mrs. Altavine: Where’s the Reverend?
Bob: I saw him walk out again.
Carolyne: He’ll be back, he smells money.
Mrs. Altavine: Well, he’s not welcome but the rest of you can come back anytime. I still have to bake a batch of cookies. I don’t want to rush you all
out now but I’m having a meeting with my coven in a couple of hours.
Bob (Looking startled): Your coven?
Mrs. Altavine: That’s what I call my bridge club. (She smiles broadly) A couple of the biddies are real witches, figuratively speaking. They gossip shamelessly about everybody.
They all leave shaking hands with Mrs. Altavine saying goodbye and what a wonderful discussion they had. This fades off into the distance as they go in through the house.
After the front door is heard closing Mrs. Altavine hums a bit puttering around her garden. She finally leaves the garden. After a pause a muffled cry and a single shot is heard.
Curtain falls
Play Pause Incidental music: “Paradise Lost”
Epilog
Sirens approach quickly
[Radio version Epilog:
This is still the garden setting.
Announcer: Two medevac personnel and two policemen arrive at the scene. The policemen precede the medevac personnel into the house with guns drawn. A short time later, the medevac personnel leave with a covered body on a stretcher. Then the two policemen emerge, The younger one with a gun in a plastic bag and the older one with a note in a plastic bag. Let’s listen to what they have to say.]
Curtain rises
Two medevac people and two policemen one older and one youngish arrive walking up what appears to be a driveway. The policemen precede the medevac personnel with guns drawn, go through the garden door and into the house. A short time later, the medevac people emerge with a covered body on a stretcher. In a few moments the two policemen emerge. The older one has a note in a plastic bag and the younger one has a gun in a plastic bag.
Older Policeman: She had one of those medical-alert dog tags