Shivers ran up Gregory Thorne's spine as he came to the full realization that he was laying on top of a cold metal slab. Wires of different shapes, sizes, and colors were spread out all over his body. He noticed one in particular. It was large, opaque, and came from the darkness above. It connected straight into his head.
Another dream? He thought, but with that thought came the all too familiar awareness that only the conscious mind knew. If he wasn't dreaming, then, where was he?
A sick feeling echoed throughout his body and his vision became blurred. He started to lose consciousness, but before he slipped into darkness, he saw the image of a man with a mustache standing over him.
-
May 9, 2062: 0900: Cocoa Beach, FL
The dream was over, and Gregory awoke from the darkness.
The day started relatively normal. Other than the fact that it was his seventy fifth birthday Gregory was pleased that he could still experience normal days. He had his health and his son.
His son Simon Thorne was an extensively wealthy man having chosen a life pursuing career and wealth. He was president and co-owner of Orenith Industries and better known for his investments into space explorations which included the terra forming of the Martian landscape.
Gregory always seemed to recall that whenever he looked out the window into the clouds. Occasionally, he could see a space shuttle going up, and that would always make him smile. It was as if he was silently cheering his son on.
He turned and saw his wife's photo on the dresser. She was their every day to greet her husband. Gregory got up and went through his morning rituals, but before leaving the room he would always kiss his index finger and place it lovingly on the photo of his wife Ariel.
"See you soon" he would say each day before leaving.
-
The phone rang at precisely 1030. Gregory could sense who it was even before the phone reached his ears.
"Happy birthday dad" came the cheerful voice of his son. "Have a good sleep?"
"Actually, I did" replied Gregory. "Earn a million dollars yet?" he asked in a joking manner.
Simon laughed. "Don't go senile on me. I already took care of that a long time ago." He paused briefly reflecting to fond memories. "You used to ask me that all the time back when I was in college."
"Oh, that's right. You grew up." Gregory looked at the floor wondering deeply into the tiled pattern. "Time flies" he thought morbidly, but then sat up and forced himself to be more optimistic. "So how are things?"
The conversation carried on. The two talked about recent events in both their lives. There was a short discussion on a new book the two had read and a debate on political philosophies. Nearly a half an hour passed until finally Simon was called away by his business associates.
"Hey dad, one more thing" said Simon.
"What is it?" asked Gregory.
Simon cleared his throat as he presented a prepared statement he had been working up to. "How do you feel about sushi tonight?"
There was a moment's silence. "But Simon you're all the way in California."
"Well actually I'm in Washington DC right now." He cleared his throat again. "Of course, I have my own private jet, and a couple nights booked at an expensive hotel in Tokyo."
< "Well actually I'm in Washington DC right now." He cleared his throat again. "Of course, I have my own private jet, and a couple nights booked at an expensive hotel in Tokyo."
Gregory tilted his head in confusion and didn't say a thing.
"Hello... dad?"
Gregory shook his head. "I'm sorry" He held his head as if recovering from a headache.
Simon's voice suddenly became very serious. "How are you feeling?"
Gregory sighed. "It's nothing. I just had some weird de ja vu."
Simon settled down. "Well..." he let out a puff of air. "You want to come to Japan with me?"
A smile came across Gregory's face: A little international outing might be exactly what I need.
-
1150: Orenith Facilities, FL
Even inside the bullet proof glass of the limousine Gregory could hear his son's jet. It started up with a roar and maintained a loud presence.
Standing proudly at the entrance to the craft was Simon. He was a man dressed sharply. His skin was the kind that didn't give away his forty-seven years on this planet.
The limo came right up to the jet, and the driver got out retrieving the one expertly packed case of luggage.
Gregory came out of the limo happy to see his son. But then his expression became very distant.
Standing with arms wide open Simon looked at his father in confusion. "Don't go senile on me quite yet. Don't you recognize your own son?"
Gregory shook his head. "Yes, of course!" He frowned. "For a moment I thought you looked older than me for a second there?"
Simon's eyes flared. "Really!" He tried to make light of the comment. "Well maybe it's the mustache." He brushed one finger across his new mustache. There were some white hairs, but it helped Simon look handsome.
Gregory brushed aside an uneasy feeling in his stomach: Get your senses in order Gregory. You can still do that can't you? He tilted back his head and released a small chuckle.
Relieved Simon was now curious about his father's laughter.
"I'm sorry Simon" said Gregory. Then he added with what he considered witty humor "I've been avoiding mirrors for the past twenty years."
"I like mirrors" Simon replied smirking. "Even when I'm eighty and my face feels like leather I would still love to gaze into my own eyes and see that nothing really has changed."
"You're delusional."
"Maybe so." Simon gestured his father onto the ship. "Come on I've got some ice cream aboard."
Gregory grimaced and half said under his breath. "What kind?"
"Coffee... oh that's right isn't that your favorite."
Gregory put a hand on his son's shoulder as he entered onto the ship. "I want you to tell everyone at the funeral how you murdered your father with ice cream."
Simon laughed and the two went aboard.
-
2015: Approx. 4 Hrs. to Tokyo, Japan
Gregory came out of the fancy airplane washroom and slight turbulence caused him to stumble.
"Sure, this jet of yours will hold up?" asked Gregory. He was looking at Simon who had positioned himself in a reclining chair.
Simon propped his head up. "Well it better. I pay a lot of money to live."
< Simon propped his head up. "Well it better. I pay a lot of money to live."
< There was another bump and Gregory stumbled once more: That's odd... Gregory looked at his son. Simons head wasn't propped up looking at him.
"Simon!" Gregory grasped his chest as he felt a sharp pain pull him down.
Simon was at his father's side in an instant.
Darkness was all around him, and he could feel something attached to his forehead! What's going on?!
-
April 14, 2074: 2404: Chimera Space Station, Mars
Simon Thorne looked at the old and worthless body of his father. He let out a frustrated exhale. His fist rolled up and squeezed itself, and within that same instant he pounded the table next to his father. "Forgive me father. I'm such an idiot!"
Meredith Hill, who had been there the entire time, came up to Simon and placed a hand on his shoulder. It was a sign of empathy, but also, she wanted his attention. "Listen Thorne" she said, "It wasn't your fault Lieutenant He was old, and you wanted to try something radical. This was a last resort, and now you need to let go."
He turned around still not fully void of anger. "For a couple of seconds, he was aware! A couple of seconds! Is that all Orenith industries can do?!"
"Even Orenith, you mean" replied Meredith. "You've already done so much for mankind. You don't have to take on death as well."
Simon nodded. "Of course, your right. It's just that I feel like I killed him."
Meredith wanted desperately to disagree with his statement. "He would have stayed in a coma till he died of old age. At least the operation offered a chance for him."
"Yes, and now that chance is over."
-
Gregory was back in the limousine. He could hear his son's jet starting. Franticly he placed his hands all over his body feeling himself to check if he was alive. He became calmed by a small margin: Did I doze off?
The limo came right up to the jet, and the driver got out once again just as before retrieving the luggage.
Gregory came out of the limo. There his son stood in the exact manner with the same cloths on, and the same mustache.
Standing with arms wide open Simon looked at his father in confusion. "Don't go senile on me quite yet. Don't you recognize your own son?"
Gregory gulped. "...yes... yes, I do."
Simon smiled. "Like my new mustache?"
The mustache! I've seen that same one before! Gregory stood silent.
"Dad?"
Gregory felt his heart rate climb higher. Again, he gripped his chest and felt the same throbbing pain. "Simon!" he yelled as he fell to the ground.
Simon was by his father in an instant.
Again, Gregory felt the darkness coming for him.
-
"Again!"
-
The limousine pulled up to the private jet.
Gregory breathed deeply trying to make sense of the past few moments: Am I going crazy? Is my brain dyeing?
There stood Simon with arms open.
Gregory got out of the car and walked quickly over to his son. He embraced him in an instant of fear and desperation. "Simon! My son!"
Taken by surprise Simon patted his father on the back. "Hey dad..." He hugged him back with appreciation and love. "Is everything okay?" he asked gently.
Gregory looked at the people around them. They all had blank stares. Not an emotion was shown, and not a muscle was moved. The sky remained static as well. Only the jet and his son seemed alive.
He inched back afraid for his own life. Afraid that if he got on that plane then he would die.
"Let's get out of here" said Gregory turning back to the limousine.
There was no response from his son, and when Gregory opened the door to the limo, he found inside to be a dark void. He slammed it shut and turned around franticly.
Nothing was moving at all. All the other people except his son had disappeared.
Gregory called out to Simon, but there was nothing. Simon remained still as a statue. The noise from the jet had become dulled out like a broken record. It kept getting quieter and quieter till it was non-existent.
Gregory felt the sharp pain again. The whole world around him began to fade away, and darkness set in again.
-
Simon Thorne looked at the young body of his father. He turned to the other scientists in the laboratory.
"Is there some way that I can communicate with him?" he asked.
The question was directed towards a female scientist in a silver lab coat. She was a woman of thirty-eight by the name Meredith Hill.
Hill walked over from her terminal and asked, "What did you have in mind Thorne?"
Simon pondered for a moment. "Can we still rewind?"
Hill sighed. "I might manage it again, but it won't be more than a couple minutes before his death."
"That's all?"
"I'm afraid so." Hill looked at the expressions of desperation on Simon's face. "Perhaps we could create a mind to mind link?"
Simon shook his head. "That's out of the question. You can't link a living brain to a non-living one, and that's especially true in this situation."
Hill kept on with another idea. "How about a message?"
Automatically Simon began to respond "well..." Then he stopped himself and snapped his fingers. "That's its Meredith you're a genius!"
Hill acted flattered. "Oh, I wouldn't go that far." She got back to business. "You do realize however that the message would have to be short... a couple words at best."
"How many can you manage?"
"Depends on the length of each word."
Simon began thinking of phrases, paring of words, anything that could help his father: Time... live don't die... stay... time is fake... time fake. What do I mean by fake though? Maybe something simpler, but how do I explain this science to him in a few words? I've got to get into his mind. What's my dad feeling right now?
Simon looked at Hill. "What do you think my dad is going through right now?"
Hill tilted her head and began to imagine scenarios. "Well you know him better."
"But you know this procedure better. You were the one to first theorize this."
Hill seemed depressed for a moment. "I'm not the best person for the job though. Someone else should be practicing my theories."
Simon slammed his fist on the table. "No!" He relaxed his hand slowly becoming calm. "Hill, I hired you because I believed you could pull this experiment off. We could bring back the lives of many people all over the world!" We walked closer to her. "I just want you to do me a favor and believe in yourself. You're smarter than you'll let yourself believe. The world will know soon what a brilliant woman you are."
Hill looked into Simon's eyes; deep into them. "Simon..." she uttered under her breath.
Simon looked at her and realized how close he was. He steadied his heart rate realizing how attracted he was to her. Then he took a few steps back. "I mean it."
She smiled at him. For the first time she felt as if she had met someone that was the perfect partner both in the field of science and perhaps one day for something more. Then she got an idea. "Simon that's it!"
"What?"
Hill continued. "Every time he dies, we're able to transfer some of his mind into the new body."
"Correct and..."
"And he had disjointed consciousness for a moment there when we conducted the first transfer" continued Hill. She raised a finger. "The problem was that the procedure cut out because your father perceived it as a dream."
"How can you be sure?" asked Simon a bit skeptical.
Hill walked back to the terminal and opened a diagram which was displayed in three-dimensional space. "Here's a model of your father's mind when he was waking up. Notice the brain activity."
"Rem-sleep... dreaming" responded Simon. He began to postulate a general theory. "You think this is true when anybody dies?"
"I'm not sure, but it could be the brains way of dealing with death."
Simone grinned. "Then that's the message we have to send my father."
"What's the message?"
Simon responded clearly "Not a dream."
Hill thought for a moment and then started to nod her head in agreement. "Right because he might already think it's not a dream."
"Prepare the message" said Simon. "This is not a dream. You need to stay awake."
He looked at the two metal operating tables. The one on the left had a young man on it and the one on the right a corpse of a man long passed.
"Come on dad."
-
Gregory looked at the handle to the bathroom stall. He was back on the airplane just a moment before the first time he had slipped into darkness: Stay calm Gregory... He looked around the compartment: This can't be a dream and you're not dead... He half believed both statements. His mind was trying to find a logical explanation for his current predicament.
Gulping back, he fearful opened the door and faced his fate. The slight turbulence on the plane came once more and caused him to stumble.
"Sure, this jet of yours will hold up?" he said deciding to repeat himself and see what happened.
Simon was back on the reclining chair once again. He propped his head up and replied, "Not Dream Stay Awake." Then he seemed to have a twitch and fall back.
Gregory's eyes widened. "What did you say?!"
Simon propped his head up again. "I said well it better. I pay a lot of money to live." He smiled and laughed a little. "You're starting to lose you're hearing."
Gregory shook his head: This has happened to me before... I died... He looked around the room: If this is a dream then I must be delusional or maybe just losing my mind. He looked at his son.
Simon had disappeared altogether.
The sharp pain returned to Gregory. It caused him to fall to the ground. "Not real!" He stood up and the pain went away:
This can't be a dream if I can control my own thoughts and actions... and if I can question my own sanity then I can't be crazy...
The room began to get smaller and smaller as a black void began to consume it. Gregory stood in the center feeling like he was in a mortal coil. The darkness would soon consume him, and this would probably be the last time:
Maybe this is all a hallucination...
The darkness came quickly upon him, and he saw nothing.
"Transfer complete" responded Hill.
Simon stood over his father's twenty-year-old body. "Open your eyes dad."
Gregory wearily opened his eyes. He was at the same table with wires all about. He particularly remembered the large tube connected to his head.
He looked at Simon, and then at his strange new surroundings. "Where am I Simon?"
Hill became very happy. "How about who and when as well?"
Gently Simon tried to explain. "Dad, I want to get all this equipment off you and then explain things. Is that okay."
Gregory consented.
Once all the wires were removed and the tube from his head was detached Simon healed the openings with another strange medical device that regenerated skin, flesh, and even bone.
After he was done Simon helped his father off the table. Gregory noticed the corpse lying on another table with the same wires and the one tube attached to the forehead.
"Is that my body?" asked Gregory.
Hill and Simon looked at each other with very pleased expressions.
"Looks like this part will be simpler than we thought" commented Hill.
Simon returned to his father's question. "That was your body dad."
Gregory stiffened and looked very surprised. "How?"
Simon took in a deep breath. "Well it was sort of a combination of several scientific and medical procedures."
Hill walked over deciding her input would be valuable. "We reconstructed gaps at the molecular level in your old mind, created an exact clone from your DNA, and then atom by atom we conducted a brain transplant."
Gregory turned to his son with a baffled expression. "And that's a simple explanation?!" He looked around the room Hopelessly lost. "I'm not sure I understand any of this."
Simon noticed his father looking at the wall where a window was. "Well you know what go over to that window and look out of it."
"Where's the window?"
"That blue button on the wall will make it appear. Go over and press it dad."
Gregory cautiously walked over and placed a finger on a button. The entire wall became opaque and he could see out of it. Outside was something completely fantastic to him; a reality that until now existed only in science fiction.
"Oh" he said. "That explains it pretty well."