Molly Fyde and the Land of Light (The Bern Saga #2)

24

“I’ll be going into one of those canisters?” Molly asked, pointing over the rail.

“I’m so sorry, you requested a tour of the facilities, but I can see now that I really should have broken you into two groups. Ms. Fyde, you need a visitation tour. This is more of a facilities tour for prospective clients. Let’s go up to the guest suites and get you caught up and plugged in, shall we?”

“Before we do—” Molly hesitated. “Can I see her? Her body, that is.”

“Oh, my dear, no. I’m afraid that’s strictly forbidden. If you would like to continue the facilities tour, I can show you where the clients sleep and how that procedure works, but it is just a demonstration. Most of our customers pay dearly to be remembered in a state other than the one in which they arrived. It is a responsibility we take quite seriously here at LIFE.”

“Yeah, I’d like to see that. Before my visit.”

“Of course. Let’s hail one of our elevators, shall we?”

There were at least a dozen shafts that opened onto the large balcony. Despite the congested feel of the place, they didn’t have to wait long for one to arrive. Once inside, a video of a female in a patient’s gown popped up on the rear wall. She conversed happily with Stanley-doctors in a silent promotional video.

“We provide the best medical care offered anywhere in the galaxy,” their guide intoned. “Whether you are coming to us with an intractable disease or in top condition, our painless preservation procedure will maintain you and your brain for all of eternity. Neural growth is stimulated with the latest hormone therapy and stem-cell technology. Our own studies show conclusively that your brain will grow younger even as your body hardly ages at all.”

The video switched to a shot similar to the person being scanned, but this time they were slid into something resembling a morgue drawer. “Inside your personal rest compartment, you will find an eternity of peace and wish-fulfillment. Family members can network with one another, and you may even reserve the rest compartments next to you so loved ones may be just as close in body as they are in spirit.”

“How do you network the people?” Cole asked.

The interruption didn’t faze Stanley at all; he smiled and seemed to launch down another branch of his tour logic-tree. “We let our guests know when family members have joined them at LIFE. How they incorporate one another once a link is made is entirely up to both members and their individual pleasure algorithms. We have had very few cases of family members rejecting one another or not wishing to combine their experiences into a shared environment.”

“But you can’t include people that aren’t here, can you?” Molly asked.

“My goodness, no. How could we? They haven’t been scanned. No, the people that inhabit their own heavens are personalities they make up. Just like when you dream.”

The elevator dinged again; the video screen showed them three quarters of the way to the surface. Stanley waved Molly and Cole through the door, then looked back at Walter, who was reaching for the keyboard by the elevator terminal. “Let’s not touch anything, okay?” he said cheerily. “Excellent. Follow me, please.”

Molly shot Walter a stern glare and waited for him to exit the lift. She looked around at the large lobby they’d entered, the same bank of a dozen elevators lined up along one wall. The other three walls were broken up with hallways leading away in various directions, each cordoned off by a solid glass barrier. Stanley walked toward one of these and waved them along.

Through the glass, Molly could see the edges of the corridor, but not its end. The hallway stretched out so far in a straight line that the opposite wall became an illusion of converging planes. She watched Stanley reach into his coat and produce a card similar to their visitor passes; he swiped it through a reader, and the glass barrier slid silently into the jam.

Walter hissed with delight and reached for his own pass.

“I’m sorry, my dear boy, but your pass will only open limited doors on the surface levels. Now, allow me to show you one of our unoccupied rest compartments.”

They followed him down the hallway, which Molly now saw as just a long line of other hallways connecting at right angles. The layout created as much surface area as possible, just like the folds of a brain. Stanley turned down the first of these branches, and the rest of the group followed.

The sight humbled Molly.

Ahead of her, and stretching out for hundreds and hundreds of meters, lay a passage lined with square doors, each of them about a meter to a side. Stacked four high, the top row would have been difficult for even Edison to reach. Small LCD screens on every door flashed with a series of numbers along with the word “Unoccupied.”

“Is my mom here somewhere?” Molly asked.

“Down a different main branch, yes. This is our phase four expansion. We use it for demonstrations and meetings with prospective clients.” He swiped his card through a reader on the door nearest them and the cover hinged open with a pop and a hiss.

“This rest compartment could be yours one day,” he intoned. The door opened fully and a long metal tray slid out. “Imagine all the amazing dreams you could have here. An eternity of happiness. Is that something you’re willing to wait for? Why not start creating your heaven today?”

“Not interested,” Cole said, a tad rude for Molly’s liking.

“Of course,” said Stanley. “Just think about it. There’s a lot to take in and we urge you to return for another tour at any time.” He turned to Molly. “Have you seen enough of the facilities? Would you care to visit your loved one now?”

Molly looked to her friends. Cole shrugged. Walter gazed longingly down the row of compartments; he looked ready to move in.

“I think we’ve seen enough,” she told Stanley, pulling Walter away from whatever he was thinking.

Stanley swiped them through the glass barrier as yet another group filed out another elevator. It was one of the same clusters they’d seen on the balcony below. The other Stanley held the adjacent elevator door open for Molly’s group.

“Thank you, Stanley.”

“Of course, Stanley.”

Molly waved to the touring family, then heard a commotion to her other side. She turned and saw that Walter had walked right into the other group’s Stanley, dropping his video game and hissing with alarm.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized for her friend. “He doesn’t watch where he’s going.”

“Not a problem,” the Stanley assured her, straightening his jacket. Walter grabbed his game and hurried inside the elevator while Cole and Molly exchanged an embarrassed glance.

Their Stanley was all smiles, artificial yet sincere. He swiped his card to keep the tour moving, and the doors slid shut on the group outside.

The other Stanley stood at the glass barrier to expansion phase four, patting his jacket and apologizing profusely to his group.

????

“The visitation and guest suites,” Stanley announced. The elevator doors dinged open, and they stepped out into a grand, carpeted lobby. Plush furnishings and chandeliers dominated the space. Elegant columns pretended to do something structural with the ceiling. Paneled walls and detailed moldings adorned everything, signifying class and wealth.

It wasn’t a Drenard prison cell by any stretch, but it was awfully nice.

A dozen Stanleys strolled purposefully in every direction, almost always accompanied by a guest or two. People and aliens lounged on the furniture with electronic readers, a reminder to Molly of the one she’d lost on Palan and still hadn’t replaced. A Stanley behind the registration counter directed a group, pointing down a hall and giving directions through a broad smile.

Walter’s eyes were as wide as Molly had ever seen them.

“Remind you of the Regal Hotel back home?” she asked him.

“Not even closse,” he whispered.

Stanley led them to the registration desk. “Fyde, party of three,” he said.

“Of course. Excellent,” the seated Stanley said. “We have two guests on the West wing, suite thirty-eight, and one visitor—a Molly Fyde?” he searched their faces until Molly nodded. “Of course,” the Stanley said. “You will be in visitation room twelve.” He smiled and held out his hand. “Passes, please.”

They each fumbled for their passes, and the Stanley swiped them through his computer. The two Stanleys smiled at one another before their Stanley waved them out of the crowded lobby and down a lushly carpeted hall.

“Hey, Stanley,” Cole said, “I have a question.”

“Absolutely, my dear man. Ask away.”

“Why did Dr. Dakura decide to put people’s personalities and memories in barrels of fiber-optic cable when he has such good android technology? I mean, no offense meant, but your model is really impressive, and you would think—”

Stanley turned on the group, cutting off Cole’s question. “Suite thirty-eight,” he said. “Let’s go inside.”

Walter insisted on using his card to open the door, his delighted hiss providing a fitting sound effect as the passage slid open. Molly giggled to herself.

Stanley waved them inside what appeared to be a lovely and large hotel room and turned to Cole. “Excellent question, my good boy, superb. It’s no secret that our work here is being done alongside an even grander project below—”

“The canisters?”

“No, my boy. Below the moon. On Dakura. We have begun a very long and expensive project there—funded primarily by LIFE—to terraform the planet into a custom-made paradise.” He grabbed a small device off the suite’s kitchen counter and pointed it toward the wall opposite the beds. A video projection flashed up.

Stanley worked his way through a few menus while Walter threw himself onto one of the beds and made a pile out of the pillows. “Thiss iss like Drenard!” he told the room.

A video began playing; Stanley handed the remote to Cole.

“Watch this,” he suggested. “It’s all about the future of Dakura and our expansion plans to offer a different kind of afterlife.” He addressed Molly. “Upgrades will be offered to our existing clients first, of course. And we are already scouting other planets that could be purchased cheaply and set aside for future phases.

“Now, while you catch up on that, I am going to get Ms. Fyde situated. Room service menus are on the table if you’re hungry. Everything will be credited to your Unlimited LIFE account.”

Molly and Cole exchanged a look. She waved, nodded her head, then followed Stanley back to the lobby and down a different hallway.

“Will my mother know who I am?” she asked Stanley.

“Why, of course she will. She has already been notified of your visitation.”

“Yeah, but—it’s been a long time. I mean, I was only a few months old when she last saw me.”

“Not quite three months,” he said. “Don’t worry. We have visitors all the time that have never met nor known their relatives.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Usually here begging for money, if I can be so blunt.”

Molly thought about what she was here to do.

It gave her a shiver.

“Visitation room twelve,” Stanley said, waving her toward a door. Molly swiped her card, and the passage opened without any of Walter’s sound effects.

They entered a room very similar to the one they had recently departed—same color scheme, same tasteful fabrics. However, unlike the suite where Cole and Walter were likely wrestling over the remote, this room was much smaller and only had a single cluster of furniture. They formed an arrangement in the center of the room: a lush chair, a matching ottoman, and a metal table. The last was covered with expensive-looking gadgets that gleamed in the light from the suspended chandelier.

Molly followed Stanley as he led her to the chair. As she got closer, she noticed the IV stand behind the chair, from which hung a full bag of fluids.

“Please sit,” Stanley said, sweeping one arm through the air.

“What’s with the IV?” she asked.

“Oh, you shouldn’t be needing that. It’s for our clients who wish to have an extended stay with their loved ones. Of course, if you change your mind, your unlimited account would allow us to move you into a long-stay visitation room. Entirely up to you, of course.”

Molly shook her head. “Uh, no. Thanks. I probably won’t even need the three hours, to be honest. I’m not even sure what to say to her.”

“That’s every visitor’s biggest fear. Trust me, it goes smoothly. The time will whiz by faster than you will want it to.”

“You’re probably right. But, no needles, okay?”

“Of course, of course. Now, please, do sit.”

She settled into the chair and Stanley scooted the ottoman toward her. Lifting her legs, she let them fall to the padded surface of the stool. The chair was extremely comfortable, but only physically. It reminded Molly of the yearly dental checks the Navy used to subject her to, the thought of which made her stomach feel hollow.

Stanley lifted an object from the tray and held it reverently, both palms up and perfectly flat. A thin wire spooled off the back of the device as he raised it to her head. Molly was reminded of the red Drenard bands as Stanley fit the hoop in place. He stepped back to survey his handiwork.

“Excellent,” he said. “As soon as you are ready, I will begin the visitation. Your mother should be expecting you. If you decide to leave early, just exit by using the door you enter through. Also, some of our clients can be quite insistent that their visitors stay longer, so if your time runs out, we will simply bring you back ourselves.”

He reached to the side of the chair and brought up a padded strap, placing it over Molly’s wrist.

“Wait.” Molly shifted her arm out of the way. “What’s that?”

“Oh, this is for your safety. The visit will be indistinguishable from reality. When you move your arms and legs, they will often try to comply here. These are simply to make you as comfortable as you can be.” Stanley smiled at her, the flesh-colored plastic folding unnaturally at the corners of his mouth.

Molly attempted to smile back, and likely did it just as convincingly. “I think I’d be more comfortable without them.”

“Trust me, Ms. Fyde. You wouldn’t be. They are very comfortable. Now, lay your head back and relax.”

Molly shifted herself a little and pressed her head back into the chair. Stanley secured her wrists and ankles with the straps. His face hovered close to hers as he fastened a padded belt across her chest, the smooth skin on his face poreless and plasticy up close.

“Excellent,” he said, stepping back. “Now, when you are ready—”

“I’m ready,” she lied.

The frozen smile returned as Stanley reached for something on the small table beside her. He held it up and moved to press a button.

That image—a robot in a nice suit pressing a small device—burned itself into Molly’s brain.

It was the last thing she would ever see of the room.

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