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The Ups and Downs of Being Dead

Page 33

by M. R. Cornelius


  Robert looked at Suzanne. She gave him a resigned nod.

  Sam led them to a room with glass cylinders positioned horizontally on gurneys every few feet. In each one, a body floated in liquid. There were temps at each of the cylinders, watching, waiting. Some of them had friends at their side for support.

  “Over here,” Sam said.

  They wove through the maze of temps and equipment until they came to Robert. His body was pasty white, and looked bloated. At one end of the cylinder, monitors blinked and digital numbers flashed.

  “Oh, you’re getting close,” Sam said, tapping the panel.

  The temperature gauge read ninety-six point three. When the temperature hit ninety-eight point six, a beeper sounded. A technician left the pod he was monitoring and came over to Robert’s.

  The fluid in the chamber drained. Then the tech unlocked the pod, typed some codes into a keypad, and a robotic arm with a syringe at the end appeared overhead.

  “Those are the nanobots,” Sam explained. “They’re injected into the brain through the spinal cord. They’ll disperse in your brain and get busy. Each one has a specific task to perform to disconnect your brain from the stem. And all of the information will be recorded so when your brain is put in the clone, the process is reversed.”

  It was impossible to see anything happening. The numbers on a monitor scrolled up so fast, they were nothing but a blur.

  Robert longed to take Suzanne’s hand. He looked into her eyes.

  “Are you sure you want to be here?”

  “I’m not leaving your side.”

  They followed Sam to the surgical suite. On a table under bright lights, lay Robert’s clone, a young twenty-one year old.

  “You’re so handsome,” Suzanne said.

  Sam joined them. “More nanobots are in there, disconnecting the clone’s brain.”

  Suzanne frowned.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “There was never any real activity. No knowledge. It’s just a dormant brain.”

  A robotic arm lowered near the clone’s head, and a laser flashed, cutting a circle around the top of the shaved skull.

  “What are they doing?” Robert asked.

  “They have to take the blank brain out, and put yours in. And they have to collect all the nanobots from your body’s circulatory system, get them reorganized and reprogrammed. Then they’ll reinject them, and the bots will attach your brain to the clone’s brain stem.”

  “How long do I have?” Robert asked.

  “Maybe an hour.”

  He and Suzanne pushed through a huddle of on-lookers to a corner of the surgical suite where they could be alone. They sank to the floor with their backs to the wall.

  “I must have told you a million times that I love you,” he said, “but it still doesn’t seem like enough.”

  Her eyes were as sad as the first day he met her.

  “I know,” she said. “I love you, too. I always will.”

  “I’m so sorry I won’t be able to remember.”

  She nodded and gave him a bittersweet smile.

  “Whatever you do,” he said, “please don’t follow me once I’m alive again. I want you to remember me like this, not like some jerk.”

  “I promise.”

  Someone shouted from across the room, and a few of the temps milling around crowded together to see what the disturbance was about.

  “Get out of my way!” Someone yelled. A couple of the temps stood shoulder to shoulder, like they were trying to keep a squatter out. But a man pushed through them with a growl.

  “I’ve got business here!’ he guffed.

  It was Robbie.

  He looked as shriveled and withered as ever, but his shoulders didn’t look as stooped, weighed down with the pain. Once he saw Robert, he strode over, elbowing people out of his way.

  “Jesus Christ, Dad,” he carped when he stopped in front of Robert. “Why didn’t you tell me traveling was such a bitch?”

  Robert clamored to his feet. “Traveling?”

  “Yeah. You sure as hell can’t catch a cab. And have you ever tried to get off a bus when it’s moving?”

  The scowl on Robbie’s face smoothed momentarily. “Is this your lady friend?”

  Unable to speak, Robert simply nodded.

  Robbie extended a crippled hand to shake. “Glad to meet you, Suzanne.”

  She threw her arms around him. “And I’m very glad to see you, Robbie.”

  He backed away from her embrace and turned on Robert. “I guess I’m not too late, no thanks to you.”

  “Where did you go?” Robert asked.

  “Hell, I’ve been all over this goddamn country,” Robbie said. “I was going to just tour Richmond, you know, check out the town. But the bus I got on went out to the airport. So, I figure what the hell. I’ll do like you said and fly to New York. The whole goddamn town is changed. I couldn’t find anything I remembered.”

  Robert nodded numbly. “I suppose not.”

  “I finally I just gave up and went back to the airport. And guess what? The Richmond airport was closed because of some damn hurricane heading up the east coast.”

  Robert and Suzanne blurted out their shock at the same time. “What?”

  “Yeah,” Robbie said. “Don’t you watch the news?”

  “No,” Robert snipped. “You watch game shows!”

  “Oh, yeah.” Robbie tilted his head up wistfully, thinking back. “Anyway, I finally get back to Richmond, and guess what? Somebody slit my wrists!”

  Chagrined, Robert raised his eyebrows and gritted his teeth. “Oops.”

  “Yeah, oops. Not that I cared about that old bag of bones,” Robbie said, “but I wasted two days for nothing.”

  “I guess your demise wasn’t on the news,” Robert said.

  Robbie wobbled his head at Robert’s attempt at humor. “So then I caught a flight to St. Louis, to the Cryonics Center—”

  “Oh, no!” Suzanne groaned.

  “Oh, yes. But of course, that facility was shut down years ago. Something else I wasn’t told.”

  Robbie glared at Robert, his mouth puckered in a scowl.

  “For someone who’s trying to work a trade here,” he said, “You sure made things difficult.”

  “How did you find us?” Robert asked.

  “They’ve turned the center into a little museum. There’s all these fake bodies and brains all over the place with little plaques explaining the process. One of the plaques showed a map of all the centers. I went to the main center and some guy named Greyson sent me here.”

  Sam interrupted Robert. “It’s time.”

  “Holy shit!” Robbie hopped from foot to foot in a little old-man shuffle. “What do we do?”

  Waving an arm to move people aside, Sam led Robert and Robbie back to the clone.

  “See these numbers?” he said. “They’re showing how many connections have been made. When they all reach 100, you’re done. That surgeon will give you a small electrical pulse to sort of reboot your brain, and bingo. You’re back.”

  “Okay,” Robert said to Robbie. “I’m going to get pulled in automatically. At the last second, I’m going to grab you and take you in with me. Then you’re going to have to push me out. I’ll do everything I can to help.”

  “Yeah, I remember,” Robbie snorted. “I’ll try not to send you sailing across the room like you did.”

  Robert glanced over at Suzanne.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  A nauseous wave roiled in Robert’s belly, reminding him of that day so many years ago when he first died.

  He looked into Robbie’s eyes. “Thanks, Robbie. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Dad.”

  Lurching forward, Robert enveloped his son. He immediately felt that sensation of being caught under water. He fought the urge to struggle to the surface and let himself get pulled deeper.

  A burning sensation sizzled through every nerve in his body, like it was on
fire. He tried to cry out, but couldn’t. It was dark, like the black cloud he’d gotten tangled up in with that crazy mechanic on the cruise.

  Far in the distance, he heard Suzanne call to him. He tried to move in that direction, but the cloud was like spider webs, holding him back.

  His lungs burned, craving a breath. He tried to run but his legs were paralyzed. He sensed that he would not be able to get a breath until he broke free.

  “Leeet…gooooo!” someone called, the words so slow they seemed to be caught in the web as well.

  The heat grew more intense. Robert heard a drum pounding in his ears. He surged forward, his mouth wide in a silent scream. He gasped in a gust of air and cried out.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  The pretty woman on the afternoon talk show wrapped up her interview with a botanist who had developed a new vegetable. A large logo behind her read simply: Mona.

  “My next guest,” Mona told her television audience, “has a most unusual story. But then, don’t they all?” She leaned her elbows on her desk and winked at the camera. “He first sold women’s clothing in a little boutique, then opened a few more larger stores along the way. At the age of fifty-seven, he found out he was dying. But instead of giving up, he had his body cryonically-preserved, and he has just recently returned to the living.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, Robert Malone.”

  Robert walked out from behind a partition and shook hands with Mona before he sat in a chair opposite her desk.

  “Thanks for coming on our show, Robert,” she said.

  “Thank you for having me,” he replied.

  “Would you mind if I gave our audience a brief history of your life?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Robert was born and raised in Indiana,” Mona told her audience. “His father had a small clothing store where he sold practical clothing to women living in a rather rural area of the state. Robert took over the business, and married a woman who modeled some of his company’s fashions.”

  A picture appeared on a monitor of Amanda, still looking ravishing nearly a hundred years later, in the champagne-colored gown.

  The studio audience oohed at her picture.

  “Robert and his wife Amanda had two children, a boy and a girl.”

  This time the monitor showed a traditional family portrait, with little Robbie standing between Robert and Amanda, and baby Rachel perched on Amanda’s lap. Robert’s hand was on Robbie’s shoulder. To an outsider, it looked like a proud father and his son, but Robert remembered how he’d had to clamp a hand on Robbie to keep him from dashing away.

  “Now, I’m not going to tell you anymore about Robert, but we’re going to show you some fashions and see if any of you can guess. First, let’s show everyone an example of the type of fashions your father sold in his store in rural Indiana.”

  This picture showed a buxom woman in a dowdy cotton dress and clunky, lace shoes.

  Tongue-in-cheek, she asked, “Was this the latest fashion at the time?”

  The studio audience tittered with chuckles.

  “No, Mona,” Robert said. “That might have been my father’s idea of fashion, but it certainly wasn’t mine.”

  “And when your father died, you took over the business and started selling a different line of clothing, is that right.”

  Robert nodded.

  “We’ve got some images of some of your earliest fashions.” The monitor flashed mini-skirted girls in go-go boots and Mary Quant hats. Paper dresses. Plastic, see-through coats. The pictures flashed faster, showing fake fur vests and over-the-knee boots, elegant slacks belted with gold chains. Then the pictures included girls’ wear, then men’s wear, boys’ and even infants’.

  “Did any of you see an outfit that looked familiar?” Mona asked. “You might have, because all those pictures were taken from the Audrey’s Corporation archives.”

  The audience clapped and chortled approvingly.

  “And sitting here is the man who started it all, nearly one hundred years ago.”

  Robert nodded through the clapping and cheering. He even stood and took a small bow.

  Once the audience was quiet, Mona turned to Robert. “So, here you are. A young man ready to plunge back into the world of fashion, is that right?”

  “No, Mona, it’s not.” Robert paused for affect. “You see, I’m not really Robert Malone. I’m his son, Robbie.”

  The studio audience went berserk.

  Robert chuckled softly. “What a ham.”

  He rose from the plush leather seat and extended an elbow to Suzanne. She smiled and stood, pretending to loop an arm through his.

  “Just like his father,” she said.

  “Much as I’d love to stay and watch the rest of this program,” he said. “We have a flight to catch.”

  He escorted Suzanne out of the executive lounge and into the bustling concourse of LaGuardia airport.

  “It’s going to be strange not traveling with Maggie and Joe,” Suzanne said.

  “Yeah. I'm going to miss that old bird analyzing everything I say and do.”

  Suzanne chuckled and snuggled closer. “She meant well.”

  Robert escorted Suzanne through the huddle of people waiting to board the space shuttle and took his place first in line.

  “Too bad Joe didn’t want to stick around,” Robert said. “I think he would have enjoyed spending a weekend on the Luna Liner.”

  “And constantly be reminded that Maggie’s back with the living? No way,” Suzanne said.

  When the doors opened, Robert stepped onto the jetway, ahead of the pack. But Suzanne hesitated.

  “All your friends are gone now.”

  “They were your friends, too.”

  “You won’t have your meetings twice a year to catch up with all the other temps.”

  “Hey,” Robert said softly. He tilted his head and held out a hand. “We’ll make new friends.”

  “I hope you haven’t made a big mistake, staying with me,” she said. “You might regret letting Robbie take over.”

  Reaching out his arm, Robert wrapped his elbow around her neck, and drawing near, he whispered, “Never.”

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Acknowledgments

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

 

 

 


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