Certain Death, Page 2

shower."

  Choosing Chou to be with her at the end wasn't difficult. He hadn't been the best relationship she'd ever had. But he was a comfort. And he happened to live on the same planet as she did. She liked the fact that he had hardly changed at all since she'd known him. Everyone liked to think that time made them better, changed them, honed them towards perfection. She doubted it. He was essentially the same person that she'd married and left thousands of years ago.

  He probably wouldn't understand, but she was having trouble picking the right clothes to wear. All these years, centuries leading to this one act, and she couldn't decide between the red dress and the blue dress.

  Watching her, the urge to jump up and snatch her away was unbearable. He couldn't believe that she would go through with it. No one close to him had ever... died. No matter what happened to the people he loved, he knew that he would see them again. She held up the red dress. Then the blue. Then the red. Then both. This was intolerable. But she seemed to sense that he was going to protest again and retreated into the bathroom to change. Miserable, he dressed.

  Together they went to his transport. She never looked back at the house. Just locked it and left. They said nothing on the way to the Hyperspace Terminal. It was where he worked, tending the massive invisible computer. Mister Computer. He absentmindedly fingered the small implant in the back of his neck that was continually recording his every action and every memory. All the parts necessary for his next incarnation except for the DNA used for a clone. Those samples were stored in multiple Terminals throughout the galaxy. The samples weren't strictly necessary. DNA could always be recreated via the records. But most liked to believe that they were still somehow connected to their original selves.

  She stood above the console where on her command she could destroy all of her DNA wherever it was stored. The last stage of screening had been perfunctory. The counselors had been unable to dissuade her and they'd simply left. She hesitated for only an instant then keyed in the control code. And everywhere, small samples of Emily disappeared. No one else could control such a drastic action. Nor the next one. The erasing of herself from Mister Computer. This required three codes. The first was from the most senior member of the Mister Computer complex on this planet. A dull talkative man who Chou didn't like. But he was mercifully quiet as he keyed in his code. Chou's code was next. He turned to her one more time but she gifted him a dazzling smile and he punched in his code, savagely. Then she entered her code. Nothing appeared to happen. The senior administrator had explained that there was nothing to see.

  "I can still access those memories," Emily said, touching her implant.

  "You will for a little while," said Chou. "The recording though has stopped. As soon as this current incarnation terminates, your files will be permanently deleted. I promise."

  She smiled. "Last stage."

  The room they were led to was not uncomfortable. She didn't want to end it all in the house that she had lived in and come back to life in so many times. The last few incarnations, she'd always returned to that comfortable little house overlooking the ocean and the mountains that reminded her so much of her very first existence in California. Her parents had died before Mister Computer had come into being. That was something unique to a small percentage of the humanity. The experience of loss.

  The chair was comfortable. Beside it was a small control with a single button. She cradled it in her hand, familiar. It was impossible to accidentally push it. Last stage.

  "How many times have I done this before?" she said, amazed. "Yet, I am... scared."

  "Then for God's sake," Chou said kneeling beside her. "It's not too late."

  She thought of the last time she had pushed the button. There was always a small thrill of fear. Yet, every time, she had awakened, renewed. Shedding the old, continuing life. It was always a mere blink. No pain, no dreams, no time. Just a closing of the eyes, then new eyes. So many times, she'd held this button. Then pushed it. She was not so na?ve to believe that this was the same. Nor that is was so different. Fear was familiar. This time, it felt too familiar. She shuddered with the remembrance of the first time. Then sighed knowing that this fear was the last time.

  "Being scared of death is not a good reason for living."

  "Pretty good reason for me."

  She stroked his head. "I have always loved you best."

  "Liar."

  She giggled and pecked him on the forehead. "Alright then. I have always loved you. And that is not true for many others."

  "I love you." He wracked his brain for something else to say. "I love you."

  With a smile that trembled a little, she pushed the button. Her eyes closed and her breathing ceased. He held her hand until he felt the warmth diminish. Where were his feelings? Was it because he'd done this with so many others for so many times? He couldn't dredge any kind of emotion up. Until he identified one. Irritation, that's what he felt. How could she leave him forever?

  The senior administrator, Hermann, waited for him outside.

  "A great loss for all of humanity," he said. "Will there be a memorial?"

  Chou shook his head. "She didn't want it known. People will find out on their own."

  "There is an increase in the number of Real Deaths. Almost all amongst the Ancients."

  "Sort of makes sense doesn't it? They were born before the HHID came online."

  "Perhaps. We're investigating to see whether it's because a portion of their life was not recorded."

  "Isn't the forty-seven kabillionth anniversary of the HHID coming up?"

  "A slight exaggeration," he said painfully.

  "Maybe it's just long enough for anybody to live."

  Hermann looked down the hall spotting his next appointment "Is there anything else you need?"

  Chou grimaced in response. He nodded to the collectors who pushed a floater into the office. They emerged a few moments later with Emily. No, he thought suddenly, her body. Not Emily, just her body. He followed them down to the disposal department. He'd never been there before. The bodies sent down here were just shells. Old age had finally taken its toll, or the person had grown tired of their bodies or some accident had occurred. The people would simply be reborn into a new clone at some later time. Body disposal was just a clean up job. Usually.

  The handlers as they casually flopped her from the floater on to a tray like device on a conveyor belt.

  "Careful!" he snapped.

  They stared at him, then shrugged. They had no idea that this was a Real Death.

  "Wait!" he cried as they started the tray towards the cremator. "Don't you remove the clothing?"

  The men looked at each other. "Why?"

  "I guess." It sounded so lame. "I just want her ashes. That's all. Nothing else."

  They shrugged and started to unbutton the dress.

  "Wait!" One of the men rolled his eyes. "Let me do it."

  He'd never touched a corpse before. Undressing her was difficult and he struggled. One of the men handed him a pair of shears and he reluctantly used it to cut the clothes off her. The blue dress. He wanted to cover her nakedness but he had the feeling that the patience of these men was at an end.

  The body slid out of view. The men fidgeted. He realized that they probably joked with each other or ran off to do other things during this procedure. Having someone watching, especially some one who worked for Hyper Tech, made them a little nervous. The cycle completed at last and a small container was ejected.

  Emily.

  At his home, he placed the container on the dining room table. Then thought that was a bit macabre so he placed it on the mantle piece instead.

  "Okay, Emily," he said to it. "Now what? Are you going to tell me whether there's life after death? Am I alive? Do I have a soul? And why the hell are we the only one's here?"

  He touched the metal box. "How can I be missing you already?"

  His clothes still smelled of her perfume. The touch was still there. The first time they met. A memory so sharp
it was as if he was standing next to her listening to her gentle laughter even now. How could he share this with her any more now that she was gone? People would never know her, and people's memories would be pushed to the backs of their minds. She'd disappear. Something inside of him broke.

  Tears.

  He sat down in front of his computer. He started to record.

  I met Emily in the halls of the college in New Connecticut. She was sitting at a table sipping coffee. Her hair shone from the light streaming in from a window.

  Real Death. Maybe. One day, when he was gone. But not now.