Microstory 2708: The Fear of History Repeating

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It was about another month before they were ready to head out. They mostly abandoned the old house how it was, though of course, they pulled the door off of the hinges, and replaced it with a much cheaper one that Vith cut himself. They got on the road, and started walking. Isavet spent most of the trip in the cart, holding baby Leif, while the others walked. Vith would go off on his own to scout ahead or hunt, and then catch up with them later. Maybe he isn’t going to leave the simulation after all.

After several days, they felt as though they had traveled far enough. They weren’t looking for some kind of paradise; just a nice patch of land to call their own, where they could put down new roots. They found a clearing that had seemingly been untouched by man. It sat up against a ridgeline, so it was well-fortified on one side already. It was perfect. It was far enough from others that they could start over, but not so remote that they were entirely unprotected from invaders. What mattered was that it was closer to the border of the next dome, which was where Ronan would be headed eventually.

Ronan leans their special, expensive door up against the face of the ridge. He stares at it with a smile on his face while Vith is starting to unload the supplies. “Thank you for making me bring this. We’ll build a bigger and better house this time; one more fitting of this door.”

“I’ll help,” Gia says. “A woman can get her hands dirty, even in these times.”

“Of course, she can,” Ronan replies with a hearty laugh.

“I can help too!” Isavet exclaims. She’s playing a game where she taps Leif somewhere on his body, like an ear or a shoulder, and tries to teach him to match it on her body. He’s surprisingly good at it. He gets it right a few times, and gets really close for the rest. He already understands body parts. That’s some high-level stuff for his age.

Ronan starts to think about young Leif. Like Talus, he will grow up in this world, under this dome. Are they doing him a disservice, keeping him from seeing the outside world? Is that what happened to Talus? Would he have turned out differently had Mayumi been more honest about what she wanted out of life? Well, if she had been honest, Talus never would have been born in the first place, so that is an impossible question to answer. They also agreed to put all that behind them anyway, so he should really be focusing on the family that he has left.

Gia frowns at him. “I know that look. I know what you’re thinking about. He’s not going to grow up to be like him. He’s a completely different kid, born under entirely different circumstances. We will still need to litigate that when we get out of here.”

“I know,” Ronan agrees. He lowers his voice “I just want him to be happy. I want him to have a choice. This should be against the rules. Having a kid in a simulation should not be allowed, so people aren’t burdened with these questions.”

“Are you regretting having Leif?” Gia asks in a whisper.

“No, of course not. I just...what if Talus’ behavior had nothing to do with his genetics? What if this place made him that way? And what if the same thing happens again? He got sick. He almost died. That could mess anyone up.”

“He won’t remember that,” Gia assures him. “He was far too young. He still is. He will have a very happy and safe childhood.”

“I hope you’re right,” Ronan says. “I hope you’re right.”

She wasn’t, and he didn’t.

Microstory 2650: There and Back Again

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Mandica awakens again, but not in a morgue drawer this time. She’s lying on her back in a beautifully pleasant meadow. She has never felt so calm in her life. Oh, that’s right. This isn’t life at all, but death. It feels oddly familiar, even though she has certainly never been here before. Except perhaps she has, after Morgana killed her a few months ago. That must be it. This is where you go when you die, even if you die twice. It’s nice...a bit boring, but at least she maintains a continuity of consciousness. “Oh, God,” she says out loud. “This is exactly what the transhumanists are talking about.” It’s probably not because they want to keep living. It’s because they want to keep thinking. They don’t want their selves to end. And who would? Her family was wrong. It—they had to be. There was no way they could have known there was a legitimate afterlife. They took too much of a gamble, and got incredibly lucky. No, she shouldn’t be so hasty in her presumptions. She doesn’t know anything. This might not be an afterlife at all. She absorbed Elysia’s powers, and while consciousness streaming isn’t technically a special ability, she might have absorbed that trait too. Who knows? She sure as shit doesn’t.

There’s rustling in the grass. A pair of bare feet are walking towards her. They’re attached to bare legs. It’s a woman in a very short white tunic with floral embellishments on the hem, just like Mandica’s. She’s smiling down at her. “Welcome back.”

Mandica sits up. “I’ve been here before, but don’t remember.”

“It is rare that we have the opportunity to return someone to base reality,” the kind woman begins, “but when we do, it is important to clear their minds. The truth of what happens following death should not be revealed to the still living. We could not handle the mass suicide which might ensue.”

Mandica stands now. “Will I be returning again? To...base reality?”

“There is no way for us to know. The technology that you use to resurrect has nothing to do with us. We will facilitate the transition back if it’s necessary. If this world did not exist, we believe you would still come back to life. Pardon, I should reintroduce myself. My name is Ellie Underhill, and this is the afterlife simulation.”

“Another simulation?” Mandica questions. “Like Underbelly?”

“Not like Underbelly. Walk with me.” She starts to wade through the tall grass, smiling up at the sun with her eyes closed. “This is a virtual construct. Years ago, I had the idea to eradicate death. I had not considered the ramifications of the plan yet. I was not given the time to explore the model before someone stole my idea, and implemented it himself. Meeting you last time has sort of opened my eyes, but it cannot be undone. I’m not going to shut it down now. True death has always been an option, for the truly terrible and irredeemable, or for people like you, who disagree with the artificiality on a philosophical level. You were digitized from birth, and I understand now that this robbed you of consent. I suppose that’s why Tamerlane stole my idea, because he knew I wouldn’t go through with it after I thought about it for much longer. He took the responsibility for the questionable ethics for himself, so I never had to shoulder the burden. The choice is still yours. If that’s what you still want, I’ll zero you out, and—”

“I’m not sure I want that anymore,” Mandica admits. “I’m starting to see things in a new light. If this is a manmade simulation, that means there is no real afterlife.”

“It does not mean that,” Ellie contends. “No one yet knows. It is that uncertainty that led to the creation of this place. Those who choose Black Oblivion do so at the risk of total consciousness cessation. We inform them of the risks. It hasn’t happened in a long time. But before you try to make a decision that may or may not be permanent, there are two people who would like to speak with you.”

“Someone wants to meet me?” Mandica questions. Who could that be?

“Yes. It took a lot, getting them here. You can’t hug them, but I made the executive decision to create a window to the other side. I am glad that we have this opportunity this time. We weren’t prepared before.” Why would she want to hug them?

They’ve come across a giant tree. It is impossibly large. She only even knows that it is a tree because of the bark, but from here, it appears only as a wall, it’s so wide. How did she not see it before? It towers all the way up into the clouds. A fog or cloud begins to swirl right before them, against the face of the trunk. Once it settles, it does appear as a window. Two people are on the other side of it. They are Mandica’s mother, and her father. She runs up to them, but remembers what Ellie said. “When you said I couldn’t hug them, was that a procedural rule, or a physical impossibility?”

“The second one,” Ellie answers. “I would let you if I could, but they are not in the simulation. This is kind of like a long-distance video call. I won’t clarify the mechanism.”

Mandica turns back to her parents. “I’ve missed you. It’s been so long.”

“Longer for us,” her mother says. Oh, yeah, they died nearly 120 years ago.

Mandica places her hand upon the window. It just feels like bark. “I’m sorry you’ve been waiting. I never wavered in my convictions.” She tilts her chin away in shame. “Until recently. I think I might be immortal now, but not by choice. I promise, I always planned on dying. I just...wanted to live a different life before I did.”

“We’re not mad,” her father assures her. “In fact, it is you who should be mad at us.” He pauses, appearing to feel his own shame. “We are the ones who summoned you to Castlebourne. The world we are in now, it—”

“Careful,” Ellie warns. What the hell?

Mandica’s father sighs. “We were able to communicate back to base reality. We regret our decisions to die. It worked out, but...we still don’t want that for you. We should have held onto life so much tighter. We thought it was only precious because it ended, but we were wrong. It’s precious only for as long as you have. Once you lose it, it doesn’t mean anything. We wanted you to transmit your mind to Castlebourne, and begin to stream your consciousness, like most everyone else, not travel there physically.”

“But it obviously doesn’t matter,” Mandica argues. She gestures towards Ellie. “Even the undigitized are evidently digitized.” She shakes her head. “If this stone makes me go back, it will be tearing me away from you. Why would I want that?”

“Because that’s where you belong,” her mother insists. “Where we are is not hell, but it’s not exactly living either. We wish we could go back too. You are an adult. You can find happiness on your own, and should. Whatever stone you’re talking about is a gift. Don’t disrespect that. Let it do what it does, and I hope you can forgive us for manipulating you. We just didn’t want you to share our regret.”

Mandica’s back feels knotted. “I think it’s pulling me back. If you want me to stay alive, I’m a dutiful daughter, so I will, but I’ll find a way to see you again too. I love you.”

“We love you,” they say simultaneously. Then they disappear. It all disappears.

Mandica resurrects in Reagan’s lair. She doesn’t know how or why, but she has made a decision. She will accept her newfound immortality, and live a life of adventure.