Tennantsayswhat
11-25-2013, 01:45 AM
“Would you like to know how you died?” A carefully calculated voice inquired. It came from a matte black android, who seemed to absorb all the light around him.
“I-what?”
“Would you like to know how you died?” No inflection whatsoever in the voice.
“I’m dead? I can’t be-No. No.”
“Would. You. Like. To. Know. How. You. Died,” A tinge of irritation now crept in the voice.
“I guess so. Yes.” He looked around what he knew was a simulated room. He was neither hot not cold, there were no smells, and the silence was absolute, except for their voices. The walls were pure white with no imperfections.
“Galactic coordinates 3.165, -3.048, -0.818. Alpha Centauri system. Elairai planet. Approximate orbit: 36 994km. System failure,” There was a slight click, then,
“More information required?”
“Um, no. I remember.”
It had started to come back to him. He remembered the screams as his home had been ripped apart, then the absolute silence of space. 30 seconds, they had told him. You have 30 seconds if you hold your breath in deep space. That wasn’t strictly true though. They had neglected to mention that after 15 seconds, you pass out. Still, he supposed, 15 seconds of absolute terror was much nicer than 30. His wife-
“1 clone regeneration left on account. Would you like to regenerate?”
Every human, or derivative thereof, born on one of the new worlds was given 3 regenerations at birth. Consciousness was uploaded regularly during sleep to several universal servers. It was theoretically possible to live forever. The science existed. However, this would result in gross overpopulation and so regenerations were strictly controlled. Everyone was given 3 in order to decrease tragedies such as child deaths. And after all, no one wants to be remembered as someone who died because they slipped in the bath. Most people got to choose their deaths.
Death in battle. Honourable. His wife would get a pension. She would be looked after, his debts would disappear according to the contracts he had signed. His pregnant wife. His baby boy.
If he went back…he could meet his child. He could watch him grow up. But the debts. It would crush them as a family. His ship was gone and the debts he had run in order to acquire it kept compounding. The only way to escape the debts was to die. Permanently. If he had even one regeneration left, the contracts would still be valid, his wife would be on the streets.
He hesitated. His family, all he had ever wanted was his family.
“Would you like to regenerate?” The android was staring at him. With what was supposed to be a bland expression.
“…yes.”
“Point of regeneration?”
“Galactic coordinates 3.165, -3.048, -0.818. Alpha Centauri system. Elairai planet. Approximate orbit: 36 994km.”
“There are currently no life support systems available at this point. Proceed with regeneration?”
He felt like crying, but since he technically didn’t exist, he couldn’t. Lines of code can’t cry.
“Yes, can I leave a message for my wife Elara Tarrent?”
Another click, then a pause, “Proceed.”
“Elara, I love you. I do. And I’m sorry. You were right. About his name, about how we should have left, about everything. Jake is a good name for a boy. My boy,” He paused, “I love you more than anything. Goodbye.”
“Please wait 4.365 minutes while your clone is transported to the required coordinates.”
“Preparing for download. Please stand by.”
He opened his eyes and instinctively tried to draw a breath, but there was no atmosphere around him. He was drifting in the wreckage of his ship, the bloated bodies of his crewmates floating around him. The capsule that had contained his clone, drifted away. He blinked as he felt his blood and organs start to boil. His home planet was beautiful below him. He had been so close to home. Blink. He felt himself start to lose consciousness. Jack. He smiled. His child would be named after his father.
“I-what?”
“Would you like to know how you died?” No inflection whatsoever in the voice.
“I’m dead? I can’t be-No. No.”
“Would. You. Like. To. Know. How. You. Died,” A tinge of irritation now crept in the voice.
“I guess so. Yes.” He looked around what he knew was a simulated room. He was neither hot not cold, there were no smells, and the silence was absolute, except for their voices. The walls were pure white with no imperfections.
“Galactic coordinates 3.165, -3.048, -0.818. Alpha Centauri system. Elairai planet. Approximate orbit: 36 994km. System failure,” There was a slight click, then,
“More information required?”
“Um, no. I remember.”
It had started to come back to him. He remembered the screams as his home had been ripped apart, then the absolute silence of space. 30 seconds, they had told him. You have 30 seconds if you hold your breath in deep space. That wasn’t strictly true though. They had neglected to mention that after 15 seconds, you pass out. Still, he supposed, 15 seconds of absolute terror was much nicer than 30. His wife-
“1 clone regeneration left on account. Would you like to regenerate?”
Every human, or derivative thereof, born on one of the new worlds was given 3 regenerations at birth. Consciousness was uploaded regularly during sleep to several universal servers. It was theoretically possible to live forever. The science existed. However, this would result in gross overpopulation and so regenerations were strictly controlled. Everyone was given 3 in order to decrease tragedies such as child deaths. And after all, no one wants to be remembered as someone who died because they slipped in the bath. Most people got to choose their deaths.
Death in battle. Honourable. His wife would get a pension. She would be looked after, his debts would disappear according to the contracts he had signed. His pregnant wife. His baby boy.
If he went back…he could meet his child. He could watch him grow up. But the debts. It would crush them as a family. His ship was gone and the debts he had run in order to acquire it kept compounding. The only way to escape the debts was to die. Permanently. If he had even one regeneration left, the contracts would still be valid, his wife would be on the streets.
He hesitated. His family, all he had ever wanted was his family.
“Would you like to regenerate?” The android was staring at him. With what was supposed to be a bland expression.
“…yes.”
“Point of regeneration?”
“Galactic coordinates 3.165, -3.048, -0.818. Alpha Centauri system. Elairai planet. Approximate orbit: 36 994km.”
“There are currently no life support systems available at this point. Proceed with regeneration?”
He felt like crying, but since he technically didn’t exist, he couldn’t. Lines of code can’t cry.
“Yes, can I leave a message for my wife Elara Tarrent?”
Another click, then a pause, “Proceed.”
“Elara, I love you. I do. And I’m sorry. You were right. About his name, about how we should have left, about everything. Jake is a good name for a boy. My boy,” He paused, “I love you more than anything. Goodbye.”
“Please wait 4.365 minutes while your clone is transported to the required coordinates.”
“Preparing for download. Please stand by.”
He opened his eyes and instinctively tried to draw a breath, but there was no atmosphere around him. He was drifting in the wreckage of his ship, the bloated bodies of his crewmates floating around him. The capsule that had contained his clone, drifted away. He blinked as he felt his blood and organs start to boil. His home planet was beautiful below him. He had been so close to home. Blink. He felt himself start to lose consciousness. Jack. He smiled. His child would be named after his father.