“Does it meet the specifications?”
“Yes is does, it looks so real.”
“Well it IS REAL,” he said in his jovial manner, always inappropriately happy, “it’s 100% human, physiologically. Of course no brain functions, not until the transfer anyway.”
“And it’s me?” I asked, still incredulous to the process.
“100% your clone, except of course for the brain activity, and we have made the standard upgrades, AIDS resistant, standard cancer immunity, dual food-pipe windpipe to avoid choking and of course the mega-metabolism you asked to be installed.”
“What happens now?” I asked, he answered me with a clinic description of the euthanasia; he was going to kill me, but so slowly that the mind stays active long enough to transfer.
“The difficult bit will be first few years after the transfer. You’ve completed the psychological profile but that still doesn’t mean you won’t find it difficult. You’ll be living with an adult’s mind in a baby’s body.” He paused, I remained silent in acknowledgment. So he continued more seriously: “There’s no other way to do it, the body will not live for long with minimal neurological activity, the heartbeat will slow and eventual stop.”
“Ok.” I said, I was not ready but it was too late to back out now. He tried to reassure me.
“Remember the level of education you will be able to attain in your new life will be unparalleled. You’ll carry all your previous life experience into your new body, and of course, you can live forever, just transferring again when you need.”
Me and the million other people who have used the process I thought to myself.
“Are you ready to begin?” he asked, again with his inappropriate joviality.
“Yes.”
That was three months ago. I’ll be falling asleep again soon. Being three months old is hard work; always tired from the constant growing. For now I’m still being looked after by the doctor’s team, and he was right, it is hard psychologically, it’s torture. But once I can walk I’ll join the millions of other children across this freak-show city, living as adults.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Eternity
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5 comments:
Hey, you.
We're at the library so I can learn how to be the best mother I can be.
Seems pretty simple, though. I will always tell you the truth. I will always feed you nutritious meals. I will tell you I love you a hundred times a day. I'll keep you healthy. I'll never tune you out.
I'll just love you.
Oh, the instructor is walking in. Let me change your diaper before the class starts. We don't want any mess.
"Good Lord above. I cannot believe this smell is coming from a baby. I can't believe I have to change another diaper."
"Does anyone here have extra Wet Ones?"
Eternity.
“Does it meet the specifications?”
“Yes is does, it looks so real.”
“Well it IS REAL,” he said in his jovial manner, always inappropriately happy, “it’s 100% human, physiologically. Of course no brain functions, not until the transfer anyway.”
“And it’s me?” I asked, still incredulous to the process.
“100% your clone, except of course for the brain activity, and we have made the standard upgrades, AIDS resistant, standard cancer immunity, dual food-pipe windpipe to avoid choking and of course the mega-metabolism you asked to be installed.”
“What happens now?” I asked, he answered me with a clinic description of the euthanasia; he was going to kill me, but so slowly that the mind stays active long enough to transfer.
“The difficult bit will be first few years after the transfer. You’ve completed the psychological profile but that still doesn’t mean you won’t find it difficult. You’ll be living with an adult’s mind in a baby’s body.” He paused, I remained silent in acknowledgment. So he continued more seriously: “There’s no other way to do it, the body will not live for long with minimal neurological activity, the heartbeat will slow and eventual stop.”
“Ok.” I said, I was not ready but it was too late to back out now. He tried to reassure me.
“Remember the level of education you will be able to attain in your new life will be unparalleled. You’ll carry all your previous life experience into your new body, and of course, you can live forever, just transferring again when you need.”
Me and the million other people who have used the process I thought to myself.
“Are you ready to begin?” he asked, again with his inappropriate joviality.
“Yes.”
That was three months ago. I’ll be falling asleep again soon. Being three months old is hard work; always tired from the constant growing. For now I’m still being looked after by the doctor’s team, and he was right, it is hard psychologically, it’s torture. But once I can walk I’ll join the millions of other children across this freak-show city, living as adults.
Excuse me. Do I watch you as you wipe?
No?
Then please treat me with the same respect.
I may not be able to talk, but I have feelings. And manners.
Now, please turn your head as my mommy cleans me.
Thank you.
I look down, and wonder:
How could I have ever been like this?
and,
Decades from now, will you look down at something similar, and ask yourself the same thing?
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