“What’s wrong Jarrod?”
“Mom I’ve got something I need to tell you. It’s important. I want you to sit down though. Do you think you could have a seat in the living room?”
A look of concern crossed my Mother’s face. “Is Emma ok Jarrod?”
“She’s fine but this does have something to do with that.”
“Ok, one minute.” Her palm grew to blacken the whole screen as she plucked her videocam out of the air. I could hear her making her way out of the kitchen. A minute later the video feed came back. I saw my Mother sitting on her couch.
“Ok Jarrod” She said. “Go ahead.”
"Mom, you know that Nicola meant everything to me. She's gone now and there's nothing I can do to fix the hole she left in our lives. I've been thinking very hard about what her absence will mean for my and Emma's future. There are a lot of things that are broken now that I can't fix. For one, I can't afford to keep the townhouse and send Emma to school on just my salary. Emma and I would have to move into one of those tiny apartments that's all just a single room. We'll be very cramped. A girl entering her teen years deserves some space."
My mom frowned but I pressed on. "Nicola's work schedule was flexible and she was able to be home every day in time to take care of Emma after school. My job's very demanding and I often have to work overtime. Who will take care of Emma when I'm at work?"
"You'll find ways to cope." My mother said, "Those apartments aren't so bad if you lay out your living space with care, and there are after-school programs available for Emma."
"It's more than just that Mom, I'm sure you've noticed the world isn't heading in a very positive direction. Nicola was killed by cancer. She was just 36 years old. The doctors said it was most likely caused by a buildup of toxicity in her system. When I ask Emma what color the sky is, she says sometimes blue but mostly grey or brown. Every summer Ottawa's hit with soot from the burning arboreal forests. The world keeps building more coal plants and the mercury and sulfur levels keep rising. A few years back we all got dosed with fallout from the nuclear war in the far east, and I can only imagine the chemicals and pollutants we eat every day in our food. How can I be sure that I'll be around to take care of Emma as she grows up, and what kind of world will she have to live in when she does?"
"I don't know what to tell you dear, the world has always been a difficult place to live in. I know you have challenges but I also know you're strong. You'll always find a way."
"Wouldn't you have said the same thing of Nicola? That she would always be able to meet her challenges?"
That silenced her for a while.
"Jarrod, you have to be strong. You have to find a way to keep going, for Emma's sake."
"Mom, Emma's classroom has 70 kids in it. I spend nearly a third my income on food. When Nicola got sick they gave her 2 days in the hospital and a box of pills to take home. They probably could have saved her but there was no money. Through my job I've heard this from some of the top people in the country. Every year costs keep going up and there's less money to go around. Every year it gets worse and it's going to keep getting worse. The only thing that could turn things around would be some new breakthrough technology, but research spending has been cut to virtually nothing. Our whole world's in a slow downward spiral."
"We just have to keep our faith in God. He has a plan for us all. He'll never abandon us Jarrod."
"Mom, you know I've never believed in that. All I know is the world I see with my own eyes and I need to do what's best for Emma and me. I'm going to take her to a place where she'll never be touched by death ever again, and where I'll have the time and resources to raise her properly; a place where she won't be crowded, won't be threatened by a new plague every few years and where she won't have to eat food laced with mercury, radioactivity, nano-tech fertilizers, ultra-pesticides and God knows what else."
"Jarrod, what are you talking about?" My mom's look of sympathetic concern had suddenly changed to one of alarm.
"I'm sorry Mom, I know you don't believe in this, but I've decided that the best thing for Emma and me is to upload to one of the virtual worlds. I've applied for immigration to VivraTerra and we've been accepted."
My mother sat in stone silence. I watched her expression of alarm quickly morph into one of shock and anger. Finally she said, "Jarrod, you can't be serious. It's an abomination and you know it. It's no different from suicide. I've seen documentaries. The doctors put you to sleep. They inject a lethal drug that kills you. Then they flash-freeze your body and scan your brain by slicing it apart, piece by piece. You can't be serious about this."
"Mom, if you've seen the documentaries then they must have gone over the philosophical debates about identity as well. I believe that the software copy the scanner creates will be me. It will be a continuation of my conscious mind. It will have all my memories, feelings and faculties. It'll be a perfect copy of my brain and nervous system. Every neuron and synapse will be reproduced perfectly, along with everything else that makes up my mind. Yes there's an interruption in consciousness, but that's no different from going to sleep at night or being put under anesthetic for surgery. Otherwise, who's to say the thing that wakes up in the morning is still you? The idea of a continuous stream of consciousness is already an illusion"
"Well of course it’s still you, it's still your own flesh and blood, your own mind, your own soul. Jarrod what you're talking about is suicide!"
"Mom, say I were to crush my legs and the doctors replaced them with robot limbs. Would I still be me? What if my chest were crushed too and they had to put my head on a life support system. Now my whole body is gone and there's just my head hooked up to a heart and lung machine, am I still me?"
"That's a disgusting thought Jarrod."
"Am I still me!?"
"Yes of course you'd still be you."
"Well, what if instead of being crushed I had a stroke and lost my motor skills. What if the doctors cut out the dead parts of my brain and replaced it with a neural chip, and I then learned to walk again. Part of my brain would now be running in a computer, would I still be me?"
"Jarrod that's not the point."
"Yes it is! Say the doctors then discovered that another part of my brain was damaged, and without it I would lose the ability to access or form long term memories, what if they were able to replace that with another..."
My mother wasn't listening anymore. I could see her fury building. "Don't try to rationalize this Jarrod. If you do this you'll die, plain and simple; you'll be murdering your own daughter and you’ll be committing a mortal sin against God. How can you even think of something so terrible, much less be serious about it? I know the loss of Nicola has been terrible for you but you have to get a grip on reality. Jarrod your daughter needs you!"
"Mom, I've been thinking about this for a long time, long before Nicola died. Life in a virtual world is better than out here in just about every way. There's no scarcity, no disease, no death. All the problems of real life disappear in an instant and you wake up in an ideal world in perfect health. All you need is a computer and some power and you can live forever in perfect comfort and safety."
"It's not real Jarrod. I thought you’d be mature enough to understand that. It's an illusion. Just a simulated world for a simulated version of you. You can't do it. It's ridiculous."
"Yes it is real. It's only you who can't understand it, and I know you never will, but I have to do what's best for me and Emma. This is the right decision and I'm going through with it. Today. I'll call you as soon as I can after the procedure. You'll see that Emma and I will be just fine."
My mother rose to her feet shouting. "Jarrod you can't do this! You can't kill yourself and my Emma. You'll leave me with nothing. I'll stop you if I have to. I'll call the police!"
"The police won't touch us here Mom, this is why I came to Amsterdam in the first place. It was never a vacation. Uploading is enough of a gray area here that the police and the courts don't get involved. They al
ways look the other way. I'll call you in a few days. I love you mom. I'm sorry. Goodbye."
"Jarrod!!!" I cut the connection and switched my status to unavailable, preventing her or anyone else from calling me.
Chapter 18
I buried my head in my hands and sat still for several minutes. Eventually I stood up and went to the bedroom to wake Emma. I stood by the bed looking at my sleeping daughter. She looked so lovely and pure. In a few hours this body would be dead. Her head first riddled with nano-machines, then frozen, cut apart and scanned. Could I really go through with this? Was I really thinking clearly? Had my judgment been affected by the loss of Nicola?
Gently I stroked Emma's hair. "Wake up Emma. It’s morning."
She opened her eyes and smiled up at me. "Hi Daddy."
"Come on Honey" I said, "Let’s get you some breakfast. We have a big day ahead of us. Today we're going to a brand new place."
A few hours later we were ready to leave. With our bag packed we left the hotel and walked the few hundred meters to the clinic. We entered the waiting room and I told Emma to sit down in one of the chairs while I went up to the counter to check in. Our paperwork had long since been filled out.
After a few minutes a man dressed in a tie and white lab coat walked into the room.
"Mr. Roamer I presume? I'm Dr. Van Zeller."
I stood up and shook his hand. "It's nice to meet you."
The doctor smiled and looked down at Emma sitting in her chair. "You must be Emma. How are you?"
"Fine..." Emma answered shyly.
Dr. Van Zeller turned back to me. “I understand that you have been fully briefed, and that you have signed all the waivers and been evaluated by a staff psychologist as being of sound mind and judgment for making this decision. Nevertheless, I want you to look me in the eye and tell me with absolute certainty that this is what you want for you and your daughter. Once the procedure has been performed, you can never go back. Are you sure this is what you want?"
"I'm sure", I replied.
"Ok then. We'll start with Emma. We want you to be with her when we apply the anesthetic, and we'll keep her uploaded self frozen until you're fully awake again. That way you'll also be there when she wakes up."
"Let’s get started then." I said.
"This way please." The doctor opened the door and led us through a hallway to another room. Most of the room was taken up by a very large machine with a rounded opening in the center into which a bed could be slid on rails. I picked up Emma and sat her on the bed.
"Could I have a minute please Doctor"?
"Of course. I'll be in my office at the end of the hall, please knock on the door when you're ready."
I helped Emma out of her clothes and into the hospital gown I found on the bed. Then I lay her down and covered her with a blanket.
I took Emma's hand in mine. "Emma, today we're about to go to a new place. It’s a very different and special place, but much better than here. We're going to live there from now on. You and me; but the only way to get there is to go to sleep. The doctor is going to help us with that. Next thing you know we'll wake up together in the new place. Do you understand?"
"Are we going to live there forever Daddy?"
"Yes Sweetheart. It'll be a much better home for us the Ottawa was, you'll see. I won't need to work there very much and we'll be able to spend all our time together."
"Will my friends be there too?"
"They'll still be living in Ottawa, but you can still talk to them on telepresence. And they can come visit you whenever they want."
"Will they have to go to sleep to come visit me?"
"No honey, you only need to go to sleep if you want to live there, other people can come and visit without going to sleep."
"I don't get it Daddy. Why do we have to live there, and how will my friends get there? Where is this new place anyway?"
"Don't worry about it honey. You'll understand soon. You know we can't stay in our old house now that Mommy's gone away. And if I have to work every day, who would take care of you?"
Emma began to weep. "I don't want to go Daddy. I want to go home to Mommy."
"I know baby" I croaked "but Mommy's gone to a place where we can't follow. You know that. Now that she's gone, we have to do the best we can. We need to look after each other now. I promise this place will be a new start for us. It will help you forget and make you feel better."
I hugged Emma as she cried softly. After a few minutes she calmed down. I fetched the doctor.
When the time came I held her hand and told her to be brave while he inserted the saline drip, and then injected the anesthetic. Dr. Van Zeller said "Now Emma, I want you to count to ten for me. Can you do that?"
Emma began counting. She drifted off at six and lay still, breathing softly.
The doctor pulled off Emma’s blanket, then walked up to the touch-screen display on the big machine and pushed the first of two buttons. Emma's bed slowly began to slide into the opening at its center. When the bed was in place a hatch closed over the opening, obscuring her from view. The second button began to flash yellow. Dr Van. Zeller turned to me to await my final confirmation. If I but nodded now, that machine would take apart my beautiful little daughter. I felt a nearly overpowering urge run up to the opening, tear off the hatch and rescue her. She had no idea what was happening. Did I really have the right to make this decision for her? Back in Canada this would be called murder. The only thing to save me is that I would be legally dead as well. A murder-suicide. That's how a good fraction of the world would see this, including my own mother.
I nodded. Dr. Van. Zeller pushed the yellow flashing button, and the bigger red flashing button that replaced it, and the even bigger red flashing button that replaced that. The machine began to hum. I stared at it and felt like my heart was being crushed inside my chest.
"Your room is next door Mr. Roamer. Please come with me."
When I was lying on my own bed and the doctor had inserted my saline drip he paused and said one last thing: "Remember the first few moments after you wake up will be very disorienting. Take it slow and don't wake Emma until you're ready and able to help her. Good luck." With that he pushed the plunger. I looked up to take in the last thing I would ever see with my biological eyes, the tiles of the clinic ceiling.
Chapter 19
I slowly began to wake up. I was holding Nicola's hand. She was lying in her bed. Her closed eyes were sunken deep into her skull. Her face was gray as ash, with pitted spots of black discoloration. Her once beautiful hair was mostly gone and I held her hand as she gurgled and gasped for air. I held her hand and time passed. Suddenly her free hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, crushing it with terrible strength. For a horrifying moment she opened her eyes and skewered my soul.
"Jarrod! What have you done to our daughter? What have you done!?" I struggled to free myself from her grip, but it was like steel. In horror I watched my own forearm begin to shrivel and darken, taking on the same discolorations as her own. Then she released me and collapsed back onto her bed. Her eyes rolled back into her head. She began coughing up blood and her rigid body jerked and shook in terrible seizures. Then with a groaning gasp, she exhaled her last breath and lay still.
I woke up screaming and sat straight up, grabbing the edges of my bed.
"Easy, you're all right." a voice next to me said. I turned to my left to see a woman dressed in another lab coat. "Lay back and try to relax for a moment. The procedure went well; both you and Emma are fine. Lay back now."
I sank back into bed. I felt cold sweat on my brow.
"Thank you... Sorry."
"My name's Dr. Song. I want you to lie down and relax here for a minute. Emma's sleeping soundly in the room next to you and she'll remain asleep until you're ready to wake her. There's a glass of water on the table beside you. I'll be back in a few minutes to check on you."
I lay there and gradually my heartbeat began to slow. I found myself staring at the ceiling t
iles again. They looked exactly the same as before. In fact the whole room was identical to the one I went to sleep in. The tiles were white, each about a foot across, made of plastic, slightly yellowed with age. I looked closer, the plastic had minute bubbles frozen inside. The bubbles that broke through the surface looked like tiny craters on the surface of the moon. Inside each crater was an arc of shadow thrown by the nearby ceiling light. Suddenly my breath caught in my throat. Those bubbles were impossibly small; on the order of a tenth of a millimeter across. Yet I was seeing them in perfect detail even though the ceiling was at least ten feet above my head.
Then I remembered. Perfect visual acuity. This was one of the many ways in which the simulated world ignored the laws of physics for the sake of convenience. I continued to stare in wonder for a few moments longer. As I lay there I slowly began to be aware of other signals my body was sending me. My lungs felt better. With each breath the air felt sweet and invigorating; as it were super-oxygenated. The persistent feeling of constriction from the moderate tire I carried around my waste was gone. My whole body felt like a bowstring pulled taught, primed for explosive performance. I felt young. I felt fantastic.