Welcome 2 AfterLife

Dead Center

Jessica turned on the radio as she’d pulled up to the stop light. She pushed the buttons, cycling through the preset stations until she found one playing an old, familiar song. She smiled, remembering the summer that song had been a big hit, a time before college, and marriage and a job, when she’d worn too much eye make-up and had dyed her hair blue. She tapped her hands on the steering wheel in time with the beat and started singing along with the lyrics. She leaned forward to check the light - still red - and felt the late spring sunshine on her face, warming her even through the windshield.

The light changed, amber then green. She moved the car forward, still nodding along with the beat, still drumming her hands, a goofy grin stuck on her face. The blare of a car horn struck her like a physical blow. By the time she turned her head to see the black SUV bearing down on her it was already too late.

She was pronounced dead at the scene.

She hits the button on the keypad that will bring up the next call. “Hello, my name is Jessica, this call may be monitored for training and quality assurance purposes, how may I help you today?” She puts as much spark into her voice as she can, tries to sound like she’s really into it, that she’s perky and eager. Her performance metrics are slipping, she needs to pick them up or risk termination.

“At last! Just what the hell is going on?” Jessica hears the pain and distress in the woman’s voice, the hysterical edge of anger. ”My husband has full AfterLife insurance but the hospital says no one has done the scan, that there won’t be any upload. ”

“Ma’am, I need just a few details, do you have the policy number?”

“What do you mean there’s a problem with my claim?” Jessica asked.

The lawyer was looking around the client meeting room, his face wrinkled with distaste. The textures weren’t very high resolution and the polygon count barely adequate.

“The defendant’s insurance company has agreed to culpability but I’m afraid he was under-insured and the money doesn’t cover your AfterLife policy.”

“But I had insurance too.” Jessica said. She tried to keep calm, to stay focused. There were so many other things on her mind. She needed to talk to Howard, her husband, to reassure her daughter, Julie. She wanted to talk to her parents about her funeral arrangements.

The woman is talking fast, words almost running together, and her voice breaks as she loses control. “Cancelled, how can the policy be cancelled? We never missed a single payment.’”

“According to the file, your late husband failed to disclose several pre-existing medical conditions,” Jessica says, reading from the case notes on the screen in front of her. “Therefore, the contract has been declared void. We will return the full value of the premiums you’ve paid.”

“He died in a car crash! This can’t be happening, you can’t do this!”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

It was always the same low-rez meeting room. They only ran her simulation when they had something they needed to talk to her about. Each time there was a barely discernible blankness like a blink of her mind and not just her eyes. She was fast-forwarding. It had been months since the accident, since she’d died and her mind had been uploaded, but for Jessica it seemed like only hours.

“Your scan and upload had already been done before we realised there was a problem with your policy and the claim against the other party,” says Michele, the latest lawyer representing Jessica’s insurance company. Each time she meets a company lawyer they seem lower down the corporate ladder but Michele is surely the lowest rung. “Currently, your storage and runtime are in deficit and the more time your simulation is active the more debt you incur.”