To Be Immortal By Duncan Long -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "With the joy crimes and all, this has become a dangerous neighborhood," Jim Jackson told the youth sitting across the table from him. "Some of these guys don't care if they live or die. They're just interested in destruction." He slid the reproduction of the Glock pistol to the young man. "What's this?" Frank asked, gesturing toward the gun. "I spent a long time and risked a lot, duplicating this from some old photos I found. Not to mention the dangers of creating ammunition for it. Here're a couple of boxes of cartridges. Go ahead and take them." "I don't want the gun or the ammunition," Frank replied. "Besides, if the mechanicals caught me with a firearm, they'd... You keep them." "You won't take them just to humor your father?" "My father?" the youth asked, his voice rising to a near-hysterical pitch. "Don't talk about my father. You're just a..." "Immortal? Duplicate?" Jackson asked, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe. But I have his memories and--I wish you'd understand this--inside I still feel that I'm your father. I remember your birth--everything we did together--just like it happened to me. I'm everything he was--and more." "I don't think he would have bothered to become an immortal. Why would he kill himself and then come back as--something like you? You're a mockery of what he was." "Hardly anyone lives to their full life expectancy of 150 years," the immortal replied, rubbing his chin. "If they don't get killed by thugs or junkies, they usually kill themselves. I was no exception. You can't hold that against me, can you?" "Don't give me that. When you... When he slashed his wrists and bled to death, that was the end of him. Just because a bunch of bots dissected his brain and stuck most of his memories into an abominable chunk of metal and plastic doesn't mean you're my father anymore than a 3D tape of him is." "My memories aren't just copies. The machines transfer--" "Dad went down a garbage chute somewhere--they never even let me see his body. They said you were my father," the youth paused and pushed at his eyes with his fists. "It was a mistake for them to do it that way, I realize that. But I feel--responsible. For you. You're all I have." "And his selfishness in giving his memories to an immortal meant I was never even able to have a funeral for him. He never even told me good-bye. He never said good-bye." "I took my life after we'd lost your mother and-- I was so depressed that I couldn't even start to-- And that's what you've been holding against me? That I never told you good-bye?" "I'm holding nothing against you. And even if I somehow could get close to you--you'd probably kill yourself again." "That, I can promise, will never happen." The machines that rebuilt me saw to that, the immortal added to himself. Circuitry built into his skull would override his ability to kill himself Like it or not he was destined to live forever. "Why don't you leave me alone, you pathetic machine?" "Pathetic machine?" Jackson asked, shoving the chair behind him as he rose to his feet. "Perhaps I am. But I feel the same as I did before. I'm still the same man." "You're only a pathetic machine, nothing more. And what's more pitiful than a mechanical that thinks it's a man? Steel and silicon covered with plastic that feels like flesh--all molded to look like a human being--and a dead one at that. If that's not a miserable joke I don't know what is. Stupid machines." "Stupid machines run the federation now. And they run it better than any human government ever did. No one has to do anything anymore except have a good time." "Right. Except for the fact that everyone is so bored they have to kill themselves or get addicted to drugs or diversion loops. The guy just two doors down from me was found starved to death yesterday. He was too lazy to leave the throws of his virtual realities long enough to eat." "That's unfortunate." "It's the kind of universe your artificial intelligence rulers have made for mankind. But at least my neighbor had the decency to just end it without tormenting his family by dumping his mind into a machine to keep reminding everyone of what had happened." "I'd better leave." "Please do. And take this these with you," Frank added, shoving the pistol and boxes of ammunition back across the table. Jackson gathered the firearm and its ammunition into his hands without speaking, his face expressionless. He pocketed them in his loose robe and crossed to the entrance of the tiny apartment, then turned, pulling his hood over his head. "One thing I want you to know, Frank. Even if I'm not really your father, I carry all his dreams and all his memories in this plastic skull. And one thing I do know, even though he killed himself, he loved you very much. And now you're all that I have left--" "Just get out, you bastard. I don't want to ever see you ever again. Never again. This is too painful to bear." Jackson nodded. He turned and stepped through the doorway, latching it behind himself. Then he sighed and was glad his eyes were incapable of shedding tears... Part II Jackson glanced in either direction to be sure it was safe. He saw no other people or mechanical on the dark, dirty street except for a tiny cleaning bot that labored silently, oblivious to the overwhelming task it faced in the mounds of rubble and garbage lining the street. Perhaps he's right, the immortal thought, stepping quickly toward the gravshaft and dropping to the ground level. Perhaps I am just a pathetic machine that only thinks it's sentient. He shook his head. It was more than he could puzzle out, even though he'd gone over it time and again. He again checked the street for any signs of danger. Seeing none, he strode toward the entrance of the nearest public stargate, forced to travel on foot since the slidewalks in the run-down neighborhood were no longer functional. Minutes later he rounded the corner of the apartment complex and started down narrow, shadow-filled street. He had traveled twenty meters when he became aware of the clicking of footsteps behind him. He fingered the steel and polymer pistol in his robe, thankful he'd loaded it earlier, and increased his pace, hoping to reach the stargate before whoever was behind overtook him. The clicking of the footsteps increased in speed, even faster than his own. Jackson broke into a run, glancing over his shoulder at the two tall forms behind him who broke into a trot. I can't make it to the gate in time, Jackson told himself, searching for a place to hide. He spotted a darkened doorway and went crashing into it, knocking over a pile of plastic containers that rattled and echoed as they fell across the motionless slidewalk. He rattled the door but it was locked. For only a moment he toyed with the ideal of letting the criminals kill him. Then he whirled around, drawing his firearm. "Stand back. I'm armed," he warned the two strangers that slowed when they saw the weapon. "Jim Jackson?" one of them asked, throwing back its hood to reveal a stainless steel skull. "Yes," the immortal answered cautiously. "We're sorry to frighten you." "Here is the code," the other said. A stream of data was projected on a narrow laser beam, precisely hitting the sensor in Jackson's neck. Recognizing the ID codes that only the government had access to, the immortal tensed. "What do you want?" "You're under arrest. You're in violation of the weapons act. Give us the firearm." "I can explain this gun," Jackson said, stepping back from the two machines. "I found it on the street and was about to turn it in. I can show you where I found it if you want." "We know of your activities in manufacturing it. Now hand it over or we will be forced to take action." Jackson hesitated, then grinned. He raised the weapon, aiming at the nearest mechanical but not bothering to pull the trigger. The two machines acted instantly, beams of energy radiating from their foreheads. The grin lingered on the burnt remains of the plastic skull before synthetic muscles relaxed and he tumbled to the pavement. Jim Jackson's spirit was finally free.