Romana lay down on the digitization table. Ramses affixed the spongification
helmet over her head. In a few days, this will absorb her consciousness,
digitize it almost instantaneously, and transfer it to her new substrate.
This part of the process was absolutely vital for the success of the
endeavor. During the early days of mind digitization, test subjects were
shocked by the new experience, at best resulting in independent duplicates,
but at worst in something called bifurcated consciousness. This is when the
single mind was divided across the old substrate and the new one. In the
movies, this usually involves two copies of each other, one which exhibits
some of the traits of the original, but at an extreme, while the other
exhibits the polar opposite traits. This will be played for laughs if it’s a
comedy, teach the person something about balance if it’s more serious, or
even be an example of body horror if it’s meant to be disturbing. In real
life, bifurcation isn’t so clean and concise. Neither copy will be able to
survive. They will both be missing core physiological characteristics; not
just personality traits, but vital neural functions, such as breathing and
walking.
Romana was here to dabble in the digital world, so her brain could get used
to the feeling of it, before her upload happened. Because once Ramses pushed
that button, and began that upload, there was no going back. “Is it going to
hurt?”
“It won’t hurt today, but about half of uploaded people claim to experience
some pain during the procedure. Researchers are split on whether it’s a
psychosomatic memory, or genuine physical pain.”
Romana sighed, and leaned her head all the way back. “Pain is pain. All pain
is in the brain. Yet if my body were slain, and my brain placed in chains,
that brain would sense no pain, but I would go insane.”
“Poem?”
“Song lyrics,” she explained. “Peter Fireblood. You wouldn’t know him.”
“Was he in the Third Rail?” Ramses asked.
She continued to look forward. “Let’s get on with this.”
Ramses had more to adjust on the equipment. “I need to prep you first.
You’ll wake up in a plain white expanse. You will sense the walls around
you, yet they will feel endless. Do not be afraid of the expanse. You are
still in your body. It should feel just like dreaming.”
“I’ve done VR before.”
“Not like this,” Ramses said. “You cannot return to base reality without me.
But I will be able to hear everything you say, so you can bail at any time.”
He paused to continue with his work. “After your mind settles into the
expanse, lights will appear before you. Some may be blinding, and you cannot
look away, as they will always follow your gaze. This is the scary part. You
will not be able to shut your eyes. Blinking is an autonomic process,
triggered by external stimuli. It is surprisingly the most difficult
biological function for digital avatars to replicate, even though in the
real world, you’re fully capable of closing them whenever you want.
Honestly, scientists still don’t know why, which is what I think is
the scariest part. But it will be all right. You will figure it out again,
just as you did when you were a baby. The lights are meant to teach your
brain to recognize how much control you have over your own residual
self-image. They will not stop until you finally do close your eyes. Next
will be sound, then smells. Objects will then appear before you for you to
feel, inedible ones at first before food materializes to reteach you taste.
You could theoretically taste the chair, or whatever it is, before the food
shows up, but it’s your call. Interestingly, taste and touch aren’t that
hard to fake, at least not until you get into the deeper complexities,
like...uh...”
“Like intimate touches,” Romana said. “I get it.”
“I was gonna say umami. Anyway, once you get through sensory school, you
will be in the driver’s seat. The world will begin to respond to your
imagination, and is only limited by that, as well as the AI’s rendering
speed. You can do whatever you want, but I will gently pull you out after
about fifteen minutes, depending on what your vitals readout says. It might
be earlier, but it won’t be later. You shouldn’t stay too long during the
first session. We’ll work our way up gradually over the next couple of
days.”
“Okay, I understand.”
“Are you ready?”
“Do it,” Romana answered confidently. She closed her eyes, and tried to
relax.
“Count down from eleven for me.”
“Eleven, ten, nine..eight...seven...six...”
Romana felt a shift in gravity, and had the urge to open her eyes. She was
not in a white expanse, but a silvery metallic chamber. The space was
steamy, or maybe it was only that her vision was blurry. She could make out
small beads of water crowding each other on a tiny window before her. She
blinked. She blinked just fine. And her other senses didn’t seem to be a
problem either. She could smell the sterile scent of medical seating
upholstery. She felt the soft grip of the bands of fabric, which barely
covered her body, around her crotch, and her breasts. Her breasts. They were
back. She was in her adult form. Ramses never said anything about that. They
did look a lot smaller, though, which was...odd. She was compelled to taste
something, so she leaned over to lick the wall. It wasn’t particularly
pleasant, but about as expected. No flashing lights, but her vision was
slowly coming into focus. Underneath the tiny window, a message was
embossed.
Slide down to see the new you. Whenever you’re ready. Another message
caught her eye above the window. DON’T PANIC.
She reached over and slid the panel down to find a mirror. That was not
Romana Nieman. That was some random chick. “Ramses. Ramses! Can you hear me?
You said you would be able to hear me, but you never said if I would be able
to hear you?” She waited a moment. “Ramses!” she cried louder. “Pull
me out! Something is wrong!”
No response.
“Door.” She paused. Speaking was frustratingly difficult, and it felt like
she had just used up her word allotment. “Open,” she managed to eke out.
The door slid open. Romana pushed herself off the back of her chair, and
headed for the exit. It was pretty hard to stand too. She was a newborn fawn
who had never used her skinny little legs before. Her legs
were skinny, whoever this strange woman was. She was now in a dimly
lit hallway. She looked to her right. A few meters down, a guy was stepping
out of his own pod, struggling about as much; maybe a little more. “Hey,”
she said, attempting to raise her voice, but only reaching a whisper. She
tried to walk that direction, but her knees buckled.
Before her face could meet the floor, a pair of arms caught her, and lifted
her back up. “It’s okay,” the sound of a woman came, like an angel from
above. “I gotcha.” She picked her all the way up into the air, and gently
lay her down on a gurney.
“Who are you?” Romana asked.
“I’m your Acclimation Specialist.” She looked around. “This is the newborn
wing. Anyone who hasn’t transferred before comes through here. There aren’t
many of you left. Welcome to Castlebourne, Miss Brighton.”
“Who the hell is Brighton? My name is Romana.” It didn’t hurt so much to
talk anymore, but she was slurring her words like a drunkard.
The angel checked her wristband, and looked up at the top of the pod. Then
she looked back down at Romana. “Are you sure?”
Romana lifted her new hand, and pointed at the specialist, fighting to keep
it aloft. “Hundo-p.” She lowered her hand and tapped on her own temple...or
rather, this Brighton person’s temple. “Sharp as a tack. My name is Romana
Neiman. I’m friends with Hrockas. He’ll wanna hear about this.”
The specialist tapped on her wristband again. “We have a possible Code Five.
I repeat, possible Code Five. Subject claims wrong target.”
“Are we in The Terminal?” Romana asked.
The specialist stepped over, to the back of Romana’s gurney, and began to
push her down the hallway. “Seal all newborn pods and halt new travelers to
newborn wing. Quarantine all consciousnesses in transit to the emergency
digital holding environment.”
“All transiters?” A voice questioned.
“All of them!” she screamed. “Make way! Make way!” she yelled as she
continued down the hall. She suddenly stopped. “Owner Steward. Where did you
come from? You...you just—”
“Never mind that,” Hrockas said.
Romana couldn’t really see anything from this angle, so Ramses stepped into
her line of sight. “Romana?”
“Yes, Rambo. What did you do?”
“I honestly don’t know. What did you say to me, when we were in Underburg?
We were at that office cookout. I asked you what your favorite subject in
school was.”
Romana turned herself over to the side. “That never happened. It was an
implanted memory.”
Ramses stood there for a moment. “Good enough.” He looked up at the
Acclimation Specialist. “Thank you. You can go now.”
“Sir?” she asked.
“It’s fine,” Hrockas replied. “Go deal with the lockdown. We’ll determine if
this is a fluke, or a new system vulnerability.”
“Thank you, sir.” She left.
“Is it?” Hrockas asked.
“Is what what?” Ramses volleyed.
“Is it a new vulnerability? Should I be worried that body swapping is going
to start happening left and right?”
“I draw power from the grid,” Ramses explained. “Might as well. It’s free
and easy. I’m plugged into your network for archive updates, but I don’t use
your processing power. I don’t need it. I don’t know how this happened.
There should be no link between my localized digitization equipment, and
your Terminal casting infrastructure.”
“This is the newborn wing,” Hrockas told him. “None of these people has cast
their consciousness before. Most of them have not even used surrogacy. Some
of them are even escaping colony cults. Isn’t Romana new too?”
“She is, but we were just acclimating her. I hadn’t transferred anything
yet. And again, we’re not connected to the Terminal.”
“You are close, though. Treasure Hunting Dome is very close to this one.”
“I don’t see how proximity has to do with anything, if Miss Brighton was
coming from Earth.”
“Figure it out, Abdulrashid,” Hrockas demanded. “This wasn’t us. It was you.
Millions of castings, not a single problem. You and your time tech are the
variables.”
Ramses scooped Romana up, and kissed her protectively on the forehead. “I
know.” He teleported them away.
“Beginning decon—”
They were back in Ramses’ lab. “Decontamination override, Ramses Abdulrashid
echo-echo-one-nine.” He carried her into the restricted section.
Young!Romana was waiting for him there. She was presumably the real Miracle
Brighton. She looked surprisingly calm. “Yep. That’s me.”
“I’m so sorry about this,” Ramses said to her as he was laying Romana down
on the secondary digitization bed.
“Don’t worry about it. I came here to have adventures.”
Romana got back on her side. “Can you walk?”
“I walk just fine,” Miracles answered. “It was a lot easier than they told
me it would be.”
“It’s your EmergentSuit,” Ramses explained as he was fiddling with the
machinery. “It would be like being born in a powered exoskeleton.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Romana decided. “Are you just gonna switch us
back?”
“I don’t know if I can,” Ramses said. “I mean, I’m capable of it. People
have switched bodies before. It’s a niche leisure activity. I just don’t
know what your father is going to say. If I don’t call him back in, will he
be madder than if I let him actually see the damage?”
Miracle chuckled. “You’re trying to decide if you should glue the broken
vase back together before your parents get home, because at least they come
home to a fixed vase, or if it’s better to fess up right away so you look
more honest.”
“More or less,” Ramses admitted.
“Too late,” Mateo said from behind.
“Mateo, I didn’t hear you come in,” Ramses said to him.
“Yeah. Decontamination protocols are down.”
“Right. Digital acclimation is a safe procedure. It’s been for centuries.
This never should have happened.”
Mateo stepped closer. “I want to comfort my daughter, Ramses, but I don’t
want to touch a stranger...” He looked over at Miracle in Romana’s body,
“and I don’t want it to look like I’m touching a stranger.” He looked
over at Romana in Miracle’s body.
“I’ll switch them back, right away.”
“No,” Mateo said. “That’s stupid. Her new body is ready now, right? It’s in
temporal stasis, but fully grown?”
“It’s ready,” Ramses said. “You still weren’t sure, though...”
“I’m on board,” Mateo told him, but he was really saying it to Romana. “Her
mind has already been digitized. You might as well finish the process.
Forcing her back into that child’s body is just a waste of time and power.”
“Speaking of which...” Ramses walked over to the wall, unlocked a panel with
his biometrics, and flipped a lever. The lights shut off for three seconds
before returning. “We’re off grid, and all signals are blocked. We’re
completely isolated. No consciousness is getting out, and none is getting
in.” He moved over to the gestational pod where Romana’s new body was
floating around. “Romy will jump into this, and Miracle will jump into her
new body.”
“And my old body?” Romana inquired. “The one that looks like a little girl.”
Ramses looked down solemnly. “It will be destroyed. That’s the hardest part
of this. I would have rather you be proverted anyway, but I don’t think we
really have time for that. I don’t know any proverters.”
“I do,” Mateo said.
“Yesterday, you made it seem like you didn’t,” Ramses reminded him.
“It’s you. You can provert that substrate. After this kind woman leaves it,
you can place it in a temporal field, and age it up, so you’re not watching
a child’s body be destroyed.”
“Well, I don’t really have to watch as it happens. I just put it in a—”
“Ram. This is how you should do it. You don’t want the memory of even
placing her wherever it is you were about to say.”
They waited there in the depressing silence.
“That got dark,” Miracle mused.
“Our lives are sometimes dark.” Ramses flipped another lever, and started to
drain the fluid from Romana’s pod.
More silence.
“Wait,” Miracle said. “Don’t do what you were talking about with the
temporal field. I’ve never heard of that, but I can guess what it is. I saw
you suddenly disappear from here, so there’s obviously a lot I don’t know
about the universe.” She took a breath. “Just leave me in this body. I can
wait to grow up again. In fact, after what I lived through on Thālith al
Naʽāmāt Bida, it might feel like a fresh start.”
“Are you certain?” Ramses asked. “Once I destroy your Castlebourne body,
you’re stuck with this unless you choose a new one, in which case you’re
just passing the burden to someone else.”
“I understand. I want this.” She hopped off of the bed. “I promise. As long
as it’s okay with this one that she has a doppelgänger walking around.”
Romana looked over at Mateo, and said, “actually...that’s a family
tradition.”
