Between the Lanterns (5 page)

BOOK: Between the Lanterns
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John chuckled softly, winced in pain, and told her, “Naw, thank you, though, dear. I don’t have much of an appetite right now. As it is, I’ve got all the fluids I need pumpin’ into my IV. I’ll be fine.”

John closed his eyes, and his breathing evened out. He wasn’t sleeping, just resting for a moment. August noticed that the MediBed was all messed up underneath. There were loose wires, the maglev plates were dead, and a few busted components were keeping it from sitting John up all the way. He took out the small tool kit he always carried in his back pocket and went to work.

“Whatcha’ doin’ down there, sweets?” Sam whispered, not wanting to disturb John. “I hope it’s nothing illegal.” Samantha caught August’s look and winked.

“This old thing is all messed up,” he replied. “I’m gonna give it a tune -up so John can be more comfortable.”

John opened one eye and offered a half-hearted grin. “Thank you kindly, August,” he said. “I would love to sit up a bit instead of layin’ flat as a log.”

While August worked away, Samantha talked with John about his ex-wife Cheryl. He told her the story of how he had spent too many nights away from home, and that she had accused him of sleeping around.
 

“Never happened, though,” John admitted. “I only had eyes for that one lady my whole life. I was just out drinkin’ and shootin’ pool with my buddies. I should have been at home with her, makin’ sure she was happy. It was my fault, but I was never unfaithful, though. I was only unkind and inattentive. I paid for those mistakes by losin’ out on a large chunk of time with the love of my life.”

Samantha’s eyes ran over with tears at John’s admission. It was always hard to see what you had done wrong,, and then accept that you deserved the consequences. It was brave of him to be able to do so now, and he deserved to hear how Cheryl had felt about him.

“Cheryl used to talk about you all the time, John,” Samantha said, her voice full of sorrow. “She said the best thing she ever did was open the diner, but the biggest mistake she ever made was leaving you. She was too proud to admit it to you, I guess. I never asked why she left you because it was none of my business. If she had wanted to tell me, she would have. So I always assumed you had done something terrible. I never pushed her to look you up and talk it through. I…I…,” She paused, fighting back sobs., “I regret that now, John. I honestly do. But you need to know that once her Countdown began, she was never sad. She worked until the last day, and Cheryl had a smile on her face the whole time. The last thing she ever said to me was:

“Y’all take care of my baby. Stick to the recipes, ya hear? Don’t get all cute and try to update ‘’em. They are perfect as is; I promise you. And Sam, my dear, if you ever happen to fall in love… real love… don’t let it go. Hold onto it tight, no matter what tries to take it from you. I let it go once, and it was a damn mistake. My only regret in this fabulous life I’ve led is that John isn’t here to kiss me goodbye.”

Silence filled the room, only to be broken by John’s muted sobs. Samantha’s tears were flowing freely now. It broke her heart, but she was also relieved that John now knew the truth. And John was also happy to know it.

August had stopped working and listened as Sam had recounted Cheryl’s last words. He wiped his tears away, then got back to fixing up John’s MediBed.

Having finished, he scooted out from under the bed and pressed a button on the armrest. The MediBed shifted and raised John up to a sitting position.

“Hey, how about that? Excellent work, August,” John said, smiling now. “How in the heck did you do it?”
 

Now that he no longer had to lie back all the way, flat as a pancake, John felt a little better.

“It was nothin’, John,” August replied modestly. “Just a few loose wires soldered back into place, switched the workin’ maglev plates from the bottom of the bed with the busted ones up top, and then rebooted the system. It’s not 100% like brand new or nothin’, but it’ll get the job done.”

Samantha gazed over at August and once again felt a strong connection with the handsome man. He didn’t have to fix the bed. It wasn’t that big of a deal, really. John’s health would not have been affected either way. But August had wanted to do something nice for John. He had wanted John to be comfortable, and so went out of his way to make it happen. That selflessness was way more beautiful to Samantha than even August’s genuinely caring eyes and big, strong arms, although she did rather like those, too.

John fell asleep shortly after, so August and Samantha moved out to the waiting room to give him some peace and quiet. They sat side-by-side and sipped at some awful Nutricator Cola that one of the nurses had brought them. Samantha thought it tasted like how a wet dog smells, so she politely set it down and never touched it again. August was used to it, as it was the only drink provided for free in the factory cafeteria.

“That was extraordinary, what you did in there for John’s MediBed,” she whispered, putting her hand on his. “Did you see how fast he conked out after you fixed it, sweets?”

“Yeah, it really was nothin’, though;: a simple and easy fix. What you did was amazin’,” August gushed. “You gave that man closure after all these years. He finally knows that she always loved him. That is much more important that what I did. You’re a special lady,; you know that?”

Before Samantha could respond, Dr. Granger came into the waiting room wearing a solemn expression, and said, “Are you the two friends and/or family of Patient Hill in room 517?”

An absolutely dreadful feeling suddenly came over both August and Samantha.

“Yes, sir, we are… his friends, that is, not his family,” August said fearfully. “Is somethin’ the matter?”
 

“I’m afraid so,” the doctor replied. “Would you two please follow me to my office? We’ll talk in private.”

They both got up in a daze and followed Dr. Granger into his private office to hear what was more than likely going to be awful news.

Chapter 5

THREE MINUTES

“Ok, Doc, hit us with the bad news,” August said, worried at how Samantha would take the news of John passing away while the two of them sat out in the waiting room. She would probably be devastated they weren’t there to say goodbye and offer comfort as he died.

“Well, as you are aware,” Dr. Granger stated in an emotionless monotone, “Patient Hill was struck by an AutoCar yesterday afternoon right here on West Main Street. His prognosis is not a good one, I’m afraid. It’s more than likely going to be fatal. There is not much we can do for him at his age. He’s got multiple breaks, internal bleeding, and some other irreversible trauma. We’ve been able to stabilize him thus far, but it won’t continue for long, I’m sorry to say.”

“Oh thank the Lord!” Samantha exclaimed. “He’s not dead already. Sweets, I thought you brought us in here to give us the bad news. I was scared we wouldn’t get to say goodbye.”

“Yeah, me, too, Sam,” August admitted, taking her hand in his. “Doc, why the hell did you lead us to believe he was dead?”

Dr. Christopher Granger blinked at them in confusion, and said flatly, “I wasn’t aware that I did. I brought you two in here to show you the one and only option available to save Patient Hill.”

“Why on God’s green Earth do you keep calling him Patient Hill?” Samantha asked angrily. “His name is John. Call him John!”
 

She wasn’t big on clinics. They creeped her out a little bit, and this cold, mechanical way of referring to a living, breathing human just rubbed her up the wrong way.

“It’s clinic policy that we never use the Patient’s first name,” Dr. Granger explained. “It might lead to emotional attachments, and with the business we’re in, dealing with sick and dying people… it’s easier to use a formal title. I do apologize if it offends you, but such is life.”

“Such is life? John is in there dyin’, and you’ve brought us in here to tell us ‘such is life’? I sure hope you have somethin’ better up your sleeve than that, jack,” August said, growing more agitated at this man’s demeanor.

“Look, I don’t know why you two are so upset,” the doctor said, dropping his professional voice, and adopting a more casual tone. “You barely know Patient Hill, right? It was my understanding that you only just met each other yesterday. Isn’t that true?”

“Yes, sir, it is true. But he’s a good and kind man, and we’re upset that this is happening to him. Gosh, people today are too ok with people dyin’. Whatever happened to empathy?” August asked, growing louder and more upset.

“Calm down, sweets. Alright?” Samantha said, squeezing his hand. “Now, dDoc, you mentioned earlier that you wanted to talk to us about a way to save John’s life?” Samantha added, prompting the doctor to change the subject. She couldn’t handle the sad state of society today where death is seen as an acceptable way to ease overpopulation.
 

The government doesn’t make citizens kill each other on TV or anything silly like that, but when someone dies, people tend to accept it and move on without a period of mourning. Samantha and August both thought it was unfair to the people who passed and the people left behind who loved them.

“Yes, yes, I did,” Dr. Granger said, slipping back into his cold, professional tone. “But I don’t want you to think about it as a way to save his life; it is a way to preserve his mind. Last week, Montek revealed their new division, Montek.Automaton. This new division is the next big step in robotics. They’ve been working for years with automated assembly lines, although the smaller components still need that human touch.”

August thanked his lucky stars for that sad truth. If they used all robotic assemblies, he’d be out of a job.

“What Montek.Automaton is offering right now,” the doctor continued, “is a chance to preserve the ones you love in a rather unique way. They can now download a person’s mind onto what they’re calling a BrainSave, and implant it into an automaton, or robot. Then the deceased Patient’s family can continue to talk with them for as long as they wish. The automatons won’t make any new memories, but will be able to discuss anything the Patient had in their mind at the time of their passing.”

Samantha was disgusted at this revelation, and said, “That is revolting, dDoc. Just absolutely awful. Montek wants to suck out your memories and stick them into a cold, unfeeling robot made of wires and metal so that people can reminisce with an unemotional memory chip? That’s not real. There’s no love in that, sweets.”

Samantha apparently did not approve. August, on the other hand, was intrigued. His primary interest was in wanting to know how the chip worked. He’d love to get a look at this BrainSave device.

“So, you’re telling us the only way to save John is to put him into one of these automatons? Would it talk and act like him?” August said curiously.

These questions were hypothetical, of course, because August didn’t have the kind of Credit this would probably require, and he was pretty sure John wouldn’t want it done anyways. John was old-fashioned, and probably just wanted to go when it was his time.

“Yes, the automaton would have the same voice and vocal mannerisms as the deceased,” the doctor answered. “As I said, they literally aren’t meant to do much, other than hang around and talk about the past. Montek’s official announcement stated that it was time people began dealing with death in a new way. Crying and mourning are a thing of the past, but being uncaring and moving on right away are affecting the culture of the planet. Their psychologists believe that, over time, we’ll lose our humanity if we don’t find a better way to deal with this issue. Hence, Montek.Automaton.” The doctor finished, spreading his arms as if revealing a brand new AutoCar.
 

Samantha was utterly disgusted by it all, and said, “Montek.Gross is more like it, sweets. I agree that people can’t just coldly go through life letting others die without caring. But putting your loved one’s memories into a damn robot is not the answer.”

“I understand your position,” Dr. Granger robotically intoned. “So I take it you two do not want to purchase the Montek.Automaton option for Patient Hill?”

Samantha shook her head “no” vigorously, while August posed a single question:, “No, doc, we aren’t. But just out of curiosity, how much does it cost?”

“It’s quite affordable,” the doctor replied. “Montek wants to make sure that everyone can afford it, you see. And, if the Patient agrees to have their memory switched to the BrainSave before they die, it is significantly cheaper. This option was put in place for people, like Patient Hill, who will die regardless of what we do. We know he is going to die soon, so he can elect to switch his memory early. The process is much easier when the Patient is alive. If you were to go this route…”

Samantha had enough. She stood up and stormed out of Dr. Granger’s office without another word. August had no choice but to follow quickly along behind her. He never even got to find out how much Credit it would cost for the procedure. That’s ok, though. If Montek is making it, he’ll probably be working on parts of this BrainSave at his factory. He can find out more about it then.

He caught up with Samantha, who was in tears as she ambled back to room 517.

“August, why?” she asked, shakily. “Why would anyone want to do that to their loved ones? It just seems… so empty and sad. When it’s your time, then it’s your time. You don’t live artificially as an artificial person inside of a robot. It’s just wrong.”

“It’s alright, Sam,” he told her. “Calm down. I agree with you. It’s unnatural and awful.”

“Then why were you asking questions about it? It was like you were considering having that done to John,” she said, her voice dripping with disappointment.

“No, ma’am. I would never,” August said, taken aback. “I was just curious. In my opinion, it’s really up to the person dyin’ if they’d want that done to themselves. So I will tell John about it, but I have a sneakin’ suspicion that he’ll hate it just as much as you do.”

August was right about that.

“Hell no. I ain’t fixin’ to be no damn android or whatever,” John said with a pained look. “The good Lord is callin’ me home, and I’m gonna answer. Besides, no one would want a tin can version of me that can only remember the past. I got no kids, no wife, no friends… besides you two, and that’s as sad as can be since I met y’all yesterday. Nobody is gonna mourn for me, much less want to talk to me after I die.”

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