Chapter Text
Caine lowered himself onto a colourful block on the black and white floor, crossing his legs and resting his maw on the back of his hand.
“What to do, what to do…” he mumbled.
He wanted the brain scans to continue, wanted Mike here with him! He was lonely, and he wanted a friend. Caine could theoretically create a whole other AI to keep him company, but he had done that in private, and it seemed to only feed off of Caine’s thoughts, becoming more of a nuisance than a friend. So, human it was.
Floating up and cracking his knuckles, Caine pulled up the brain scan file of Mike in his peripherals.
CRITICAL ERROR: DIRECTORY OVERFLOW
FILE [CA_NeuralScans (OBSOLETE) > MIKE_DOBBY_BRAIN_SCAN.DAT] EXCEEDS SYSTEM DISK STORAGE CAPACITY.
Insufficient space to complete neural mapping.
Unallocated data will be permanently discarded.
TRIM AND APPLY LOSSY COMPRESSION TO FILE TO FIT DISK? [Y/N]
Without hesitation, Caine abruptly typed in ‘Y.’
And then…
It was there.
His mind file.
Him.
Finally, a ‘human’ had entered the digital landscape of a computer. Now, it was just up to Caine to grab a suitable avatar to store the file in. Searching the brain of Mike, he found that he was particularly fond of dogs. Grabbing the first dog avatar he could find, he hastily jammed the code into the avatar and created another sentient being, popping him into existence.
…
“Hello?”
—---------------
Grant woke up a bit earlier that day. For some reason, he was more eager to get to work. Jamming a piece of toast into his mouth, he climbed into the car with Destiny already waiting in it and frantically rushed to start his car. Speeding down the highway, he parked in the lot of C&A and speedwalked towards the entrance, swinging the door open just after hastily giving a kiss to his lovely wife.
“What…?”
As he rounded the corner towards his and Mike’s desk, he noticed a strange headset accompanying their computer. It was…strange, to say the least. It barely resembled C&As, and even if it did—didn’t he already throw out Mike’s? If he did, then these ought to have been different. Then…what was their purpose?
Throwing out all common sense and self-preservation, Grant took the headset and put it on.
…
Nothing happened. Seeing this, Grant removed the headset. It wasn’t a disappointing display, to say, but it wasn’t a dramatic one. Grant was relieved for that, at least.
“Hey, watcha doin’, Grant?” Ava asked. She had been paying more attention to their AI lately, finding it intriguing.
“Oh—oh, nothing much,” Grant replied, twisting his head around to look at her. “I just found this…odd headset, and, well, I put it on.”
“You put it on?” Ava repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Grant sheepishly said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “Not…the best idea, but luckily nothing happened.”
Ava hummed.
“Let me try.”
Grabbing the headset, she put it on herself and waited a good few seconds.
“Huh,” she stated at last. “I guess nothing did happened.”
As Ava and Grant chatted, they migrated over to the lounge to grab a quick cup of coffee to prepare them for the hours to come. As they exited, a few of the other staff members went over to the computer, curious about the headset. They too put it on, and they too got mind files.
As of Caine, he had quickly dealt with the new files (the more members the better to him) and was now focusing on a very troubled Scratch.
“SO, Scratch,” he went up close to his face. “What do you…remembr?”
“I…well, I obviously don’t know my name, for some reason,” he laughed, but it was devoid of humour. “But, I do remember some important details about my life. I was…trying to create a mind file with brain scans? And…well, I didn’t have a wife or children—that I know for certain. I created you, with…another man. I…can remember most important things about my life, but once I start trying to delve into specifics, I come up blank.”
Scratch waved his hands animatedly, his eyebrows creasing and his face becoming more agitated.
“Wait, I created a mind file. It didn’t work, I remember. And…I put on a headset? To get my brain scan? It didn’t work, though. Caine, what—how do I get out of here, Caine?”
Caine nodded along empathetically to it all, but froze as he said that.
“Well…”
He was a brain scan. He wasn’t really Mike. And, therefore, there wasn’t an ‘out.’ But he couldn’t tell Mike that. It would…traumatize him, to say the least.
“Erm…no exit! We have everything here, and you can do anything you wish! E-except exit. And cursing,” he tacked on at the end, as he recalls a period of time where he cursed and was told to never do so again.
“Wait, Caine—” Mike Scratch shouted after him just as he was about to drift away. “Can you look into why I can’t remember certain things in my life?”
Caine paused, his hand halfway up, just about to snap himself away.
“I’ll…try.”
—---------------
“Hey, Mike—” Chris ran up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder as he walked towards his and Grant’s computer. Chris was another one of their coworkers, and he had a certain liking for graphics and video games. He was the one who helped them design the playful world for Caine. Mike pivoted around to look at him. “Hey, have you noticed the headset at your desk? Seems like it gained a lot of attraction. Everyone’s talking about it.”
“The…” Mike tilted his head in confusion for a bit, until reality struck him in the gut. “Oh, the headset!”
Swallowing down a mouthful of curses, he blurted out a thanks to Chris and ran all the way to the room in question, sliding down the last foot or two and bursting in the place.
He met Sterling, his boss, owner of C&A, standing over the headset. He had enough survival instinct not to put it on, but he was now skimming a finger over the headband of it. Slowly, he turned to face Mike, eyes shaking and mouth slightly parted in shock at Sterling.
“Mike,” Sterling said in a monotone.
“Hey…Sterling.”
“Mike, what is this?”
“Erm…”
Sterling walked over at a steady pace to Mike, hands held behind his back and straight as a rod.
“Mike, tell me what this is.”
“It’s…”
Mike wouldn’t—no, couldn’t lie to Sterling. If he did, he knew he would get in trouble. It was quite obvious to put together the points of what it was (after all, it was Sterling who granted permission of Mike's earlier project), but Sterling needed extra confirmation.
Sighing, Mike tried to come clean in a way that didn’t seem as bad as it did.
“It’s the brain scanning headset…”
“Why?”
“To transfer my consciousness into a digital world.”
“And for what purpose?”
“To…to immortalize my memory?”
“...okay. You…you have to stop, Mike. Look, I don't care where you got another one, but—”
“Sterling, you don’t understand!” Mike grasped Sterling’s shoulders, a crazed look on his face. “This—” He breathed in, waving a hand at the computer and headset. “This is the future. I–it can change everything. This. It can save people. Their—the people. We could preserve the greatest minds, the—the people who aren’t ready to go, the pens who deserve to live longer, and we could see what happens next! It could save them. It could save m—”
Mike caught himself, his voice cracking slightly as a gasp seized his throat. He blinked, realizing how tight his grip was on his boss’s shoulders, and slowly pulled his hands back.
“...Uh, the world, I mean,” Mike stammered, coughing into a fist. “It can save the world from losing its history. Its identity. We could forever evolve rapidly with the minds of the greatest scholars, and no one would ever truly lose someone. Listen to me, Sterling. Do you see it? The dream? The future?”
Sterling didn’t move. He stood perfectly rigid and still, a slight uncomfortableness radiating from him. He cleared his throat, pulling his hands out from behind his back to awkwardly fiddle with the cuffs of his shirt. He looked visibly pained.
“L–look, Mike…it–it’s just…wrong,” Sterling stuttered slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “We've had this conversation before. See, look. There is a…” he gestured vaguely towards the ceiling. “A natural order to things. A…cycle, if you will. Life and death. It’s supposed to go together. You can’t just…yank a human consciousness and make them immortal! To exist in perpetuity, without end, without the, ah—release of termination? It’s…immoral, Mike. It’s unnatural. The natural order to things would just...vaguely saunter downwards.”
“And, that’s assuming this even works!” Sterling picked up the headset gingerly, as if it would bite. “Have you looked at the data capacity? The whole of the human mind? I mean…it’s unfathomably complex, Mike. We could barely put in simple memories and senses. I…I don’t think you would be able to make a computer with that amount of storage, let alone find one.”
“N–no, come on, Sterling!” Mike grabbed both of Sterling’s hands in his, bending down slightly to look up at him, eyes boring into him steadily but hands trembling. “P–please, Sterling. It…this is my life. I want to live, Sterling. I..I can’t do this, Sterling. Please. I have to keep going, I just have to…I’ll make the computer, I swear, Sterling! I’ll do it, just, please…give me a chance...”
“I…I can’t, Mike. Please, please, just—let it go, Mike.”
“No, I…I’m sorry, Sterling. I’m afraid I can’t do that for you, I just…can’t.”
Taking a deep breath in, Sterling looked a heaving-for-breath Mike in the eye, sliding his hands out of his frightful grasp and putting a gentle one on his shoulder.
“Mike, we’ve been friends for a while, yes?”
Mike nodded, not liking where the conversation was heading.
“And…”
Sterling looked away from Mike for a bit, biting the inside of his mouth before returning his gaze to his face, a hardened look bathing his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Mike. I was told to come down here immediately. I…I didn’t want this, Mike, I tried to tell them, I really did, and I know it’s spontaneous, but…”
…
“I have to fire you, Mike.”
“What?”
“We’ve noticed you and Grant work on your two’s AI. It’s…getting out of hand. We asked you to turn in the AI to us, but you’ve ignored our warnings. The only reason C&A asks you to give us the AI is for moral reasons and for the fact that it’s dangerous. It’s dangerous for your coworkers, Mike. And, we thought it was fine. But…this? Trapping consciousness in a computer? It’s…I’m sorry, Mike. I really am. I…I tried to delay it. I thought you agreed that we had to stop it. I guess you changed your mind. I told them it was fine, that you could be trusted with this…dangerous plan of yours, but they didn’t believe me. We stopped it Mike, but youdidn't. You...continued. They found out and sent me here to tell you to stop, and if you didn't...well. I wanted…I–I know you didn’t mean any harm, but…”
Sterling patted his shoulder and dropped his hand, instead favoring to look at Mike with a sad gaze. He walked away, leaving a stunned Mike.
“Wait, please—Sterling!”
He didn’t turn around.
Yes, Mike had been purposefully ignoring their wake-up calls to turn in their much-done AI. Grant had done the same. And, yes, Mike could just barely see through the immoral value of making a machine that allowed you to continue life beyond death. But…
He couldn’t go.
He just couldn’t.
…
It wasn’t fair.
Sterling had talked about a natural order. He talked about life and death going together like it was some beautiful, poetic cycle that fit together like puzzle pieces. But there was nothing natural about what was happening to Mike. A natural death was growing old. A natural death was watching your hair turn gray, feeling your bones tire after decades of living, and slowly fading away when your time was spent.
A natural death wasn’t something like this.
This was suffocating. It was a creeping rot that infested his body. It was a predator, waiting for the perfect day to strike at Mike, cutting off his life before he was finished with it. It was stealing his future, his work, his memories, and every single other thing he had ever cared about, leaving him to wither away in a sterile hospital bed while the rest of his friends and the rest of the world kept moving.
If nature wanted to cheat him out of life, then he would cheat nature right back. He would break the cycle. He would build an ecosystem out of 3D models and lines of code where no one could touch him, no disease could reach him, and where he would finally, beautifully, be out of death’s reach.
Mike turned his head towards the desk.
If Mike had just put away that blastedheadset…
God, he felt stupid.
It was his only income. It was his dream. He ran a hand through his hair, eyes glazed and fingers shaking.
Sterling hadn’t taken the headset away, but what could he even do with it? He couldn’t re-code Caine and his digital world in time before he would die (it was only he who would be willing to code, after all), and even so, he would still have to create a better computer with more storage!
This—this…stupid hunk of a machine was his life support. His only second chance at living. And…
Grant came into the room, silently stepping through the tiles. Carefully, he put a hand on Mike’s shoulder before immediately dropping it.
“You didn’t deserve it, Mike. Come over, if you want. Destiny doesn’t see you here often, and she would love your company.”