A Death in After World: Terry

in After World: Terry

  Eric Johnson

  Copyright © 2012, ©2013 Eric Darrell Johnson

  All rights reserved

  ISBN: 978-1301154395

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  https://www.ALifeinAfterWorld.com

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  Twitter: @ALifeAfterWorld

  I am Terry Hudson and I died. This is the story of the last hours of my life.

  I never really lived in After World; my birth occurred before the Red Sun rose. Back then in the age of technology I was top of the game. I lived in San Francisco and performed research with the university on artificial intelligence. I built super computers out of scrap gaming consoles and wrote my own operating systems to handle the processing. I made a breakthrough in separating the processes into different CPUs depending on what needed doing. Then the central CPU just received the results and then coordinated… Sorry, I got off track; you want to hear about my death.

  It is important to know that we were making clones and that we were able to transfer our knowledge to them. Therefore, we, that is Sylvia and I, had teamed up and worked together on the project. We used her vast medical knowledge and research to clone myself. We had this great idea that we could live forever or something. I put my knowledge into how to transfer our knowledge from one body to another. We experimented and found ways using magnetic resonance to read the data from individual neurons and… sorry. How did I die? Sorry I got side tracked again.

  Forty years after the Red Sun first rose, and Sylvia and I had established an abandoned underground government bunker deep enough it shielded us from the solar storm that raged on the surface of Earth and electricity actually worked. It once served as a missile silo. We stumbled on this location when we… sorry. I will tell the story.

  “Will you hand me the coupler?” I asked the person with me. He was essentially me. He looked like me. He had my memories. He sounded and acted like me.

  He did not verbally reply, he grabbed the coupler and put it brusquely into my hand. I looked at him for a moment to try to see if might be upset, but I find it difficult to read people , Even my own face offered me challenges when I tried to read it. I went back to work.

  “I still think you should let me do it.” My other me replied finally.

  “That is okay, I got it.” I told him. I had done this many times.

  He stomped away a short distance. I finished the connection and turned the valve to allow the coolant to run through again. It would be a few minutes to get the computer down to temperature.

  “So with this new memory cell, we will—”

  He interrupted me, “—be able to store for an extended time the entire contents of your memory. I know this.”

  His tone sounded a little annoyed, I could not figure out why. I tried to think of what I would be thinking in his situation but could not figure out any reason I would be mad in the same circumstances. I shrugged it off. Maybe I misread him.

  “Where is Sylvia?” I asked him.

  For some reason Sylvia had seemed to be favoring his company over mine. I could understand why since his body was essentially a twenty-year-old version of me. Maybe she liked his younger looks.

  He waved it off. “I don’t know, I think she said something about digging through the hospital for some test equipment.”

  I went over and checked the cages. The gerbils fared well. I pulled one of the cages out of the rack. This one contained the bald rodents.

  I removed one of them out of the cage and the body-emitted heat into my hand. Without fur the mice lost their body heat very quickly.

  “Do you want me to take the sample?” My other self stood at my shoulder. I felt almost annoyed but I did like that he showed interest in the work.

  “No,” I told him kindly, “I got it.” I wanted to make sure that I did it right.

  I sensed he moved away from me.

  “Look,” I explained, “without the fur…”

  I heard the door to the lab close. He had left.

  I laid the mouse on its back in my hand. It struggled a little but I pinned it back a little with my pinky and thumb of the holding hand and I positioned the syringe in my right hand. With the back of my right hand I gently rubbed the belly of the mouse until it settled down then in a quick motion I reversed my hand and drew a blood sample from the soft point between the leg and abdomen.

  The rodent jumped, I lost my grip, and it hit the floor.

  I dropped the syringe on the counter and went after the test subject.

  The gerbil nearly disappeared behind a kick plate when I got a hold of its tail. I pulled and the fought back digging its tiny claws into the wood of the cabinet. Just before I figured I would pull the tail off the rodent, it gave up and I scooped it up as I pulled it backwards from the hole.

  I dropped it into its cage and snapped the top.

  After returning the cage I checked the syringe. I got a little over .2cc, enough to do a sequencing.

  I grabbed the syringe and headed to the prepping station to prepare the sample.

  The lab door opened again and this time Sylvia came in with the younger version of me. They chatted it up and I felt a tinge of jealousy. I realized I should not feel that way as Sylvia had never shown interest in me in that way. Moreover, even after all this time I always got depressed when I even considered a relationship. I still remembered Marylyn dying in my arms.

  “Did you get the equipment?” I called to Sylvia.

  She looked over and me and smiled. She shook her head.

  “There was too much damage. I am thinking about going back to California and see what I can mine for in the wreckage there.” She replied.

  My other me seemed a little upset with me for interrupting his time with her. I ignored it.

  “How are you getting there?” I asked her.

  “Train.” She said simply.

  “Train?” We both asked her in unison.

  She nodded. “I heard a train whistle while I was in the hospital and so I investigated. I arrived at some train tracks just in time to see a train pulling away.”

  “How does it run?” My other self beat me to the question.

  “Steam.” She said.

  My twin and I looked at each other dumbfounded.

  “I found the station and there was someone working there.” She explained. “Seems there are several rain lines that are still maintained and run using steam engines. The line here is an east west line that makes it as far as California and all the way to the Mississippi river. The bridge is out there so they cannot go further, but they are talking about a project to rebuild it.”

  “How could this have escaped us?” I asked her.

  She shrugged. “Maybe we should get out more.”

  “Too dangerous.” I answered. My other me nodded in agreement.

  She nodded in agreement. “But now I have a way to get back to the universities and hospitals in California.”

  “And you don’t think they will be already scavenged clean?” I asked her.

  “What about the militias?” My other me asked but I thought the same thing but had wanted to let her finish answering one question before shooting another at her.

  “The clerk at the station said the militias do not interfere with the rail line.” She told us. “And he also said that California has stabilized quite a bit.

  He nodded, I pressed my question. “But will there be anything that makes the trip worth it still in place?”

  “I don’t know until I get there.” She said.

  Sylvia started going through a cabinet near me.

  “What are you l
ooking for?” I asked her.

  “I am looking for supplies. I don’t want to go unprepared.” She said.

  “You need to find supplies now?” I asked her.

  She nodded. “I am leaving tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” We chorused together at her.

  She nodded and kept gathering her supplies.

  “But I need—” I started to remind her of our sequencing we needed to get done.

  “Whatever it is, you two can do it.” She argued. “I have already taught you what you need.”

  “But—” I started.

  She held up her hand to shush me.

  “You have enough medical knowledge to cure cancer from what I have taught you. You have the ability to clone up a small army of you’s. You don’t need me.”

  I deflated. My other me appeared the same.

  “What of that?” I asked pointing over at the maturation chamber.

  “Don’t molest her!” Sylvia said with a teasing tone. “I should be back before she is ready to emerge.”

  “What if you don’t come back in time?” I said with a worried tone. “She will be blank.”

  “Then put your memories in her.” Sylvia said. “Seriously though, she has another seven months before she is ready and we are taking about a simple train