The Ups and Downs of Being Dead (42 page)

Frustrated, he banged his cane against the doorjamb and
heard the same kind of plastic thunk as the window. Drawing the cane up to his
face, he studied the shaft, then he examined the gap between the open door and
the jamb.

“That might work,” he said.

He tried to wedge the crook of the cane between the door and
the jamb, but the wide handle would not fit. The bottom of the cane definitely
looked narrower.

He leaned against the wall for support, then wrapped his
hand around the rubber tip on the end of his cane and twisted. The cap didn’t
budge. He took a deep breath and tried again. The tip refused to move. His
arthritic fingers screamed with pain but he didn’t care. He twisted harder.

His back cramped from the stress. Sweat beaded on his lip.

“Again,” he commanded through clenched teeth.

When he could no longer bear the pain in his right hand, he
switched to his left.

By now, the men in the room had turned a deaf ear to his
rantings, and a blind eye to his madness.

“Come…on!” he bellowed, and at last, he felt a slight shift
in the rubber.

“That’s it,” he coaxed the cap. “A little more.”

The tip came off with a little pop, and Robert uttered a
giddy laugh. He staggered back to the closest chair and sat until his panting
subsided, and the throbbing in his fingers eased. If this was going to work,
he’d need every bit of energy he could muster.

When he thought he was ready, he opened the door as wide as
it would go, and slid the end of his cane between the door and the jamb. It
barely fit. Then with the cane halfway through, he used the door as a fulcrum
and threw all his weight against the shaft.

He heard a snap, like plastic under stress, and pushed
harder. The cane bowed, but held firm.

“Not enough force,” he said.

Easing up on the pressure, he leaned back, then gripped the
crook of the cane with one hand, the shaft with the other, and lurched forward.
The cane splintered and Robert flew onto the floor, the crook of the cane still
clutched in one fist. His other arm lay wedged under his body at an unnatural
angle. He was sure it was broken.

Ignoring the pain, he turned the cane to examine the broken
end. A jagged ring of plastic revealed a hollow center.

“Thank God for cheap bastards,” he mumbled.

He scooted his hips and shifted his shoulders until he was
comfortable on the floor. Then gripping the cane at the jagged end, he dug the
plastic snags into the soft underside of his broken arm and tore through the
flesh all the way to his wrist.

“Robbie! No!!” one of the men yelled. But he was too late.

Dropping the cane to the floor, Robert let his head flop to
the side. He watched, fascinated, as Robbie’s blood pooled beside him on the
faded tile.

He was vaguely aware of several men lifting him up and
carrying him into the ward where he was laid on his bed.

One of the men who stood nearby was crying.

“I’m sorry,” Robert told the man. Then he drifted into the
best sleep he’d had since he’d traded places with his son.

He dreamed that he was lounging in a small boat. Gentle
waves rocked him, and sunshine bathed his face in warmth.

“Robbie?”

Robert’s eyes flew open. “Suzanne?!”

“Is that you, Robert?” she asked.

With a tremulous sigh, he said, “You came.”

“What happened here?” she cried.

“I traded places with Robbie,” he said, his voice cracking
with emotion. “He was just supposed to stay out for a day or two, but he didn’t
come back.”

“Oh, Robert. How awful.”

“I’m so sorry,” Robert groaned. “I don’t know what I was
thinking. I just wanted to do something nice for Robbie.”

Although he could not see her, her presence made his heart
race.

“That was very noble of you, Sweetheart.”

“But I’ve wasted our last few days together, for some stupid
notion.”

He told her about wanting to give his body to Robbie.

“That’s not stupid,” she said. “It’s brilliant.”

“Well, it doesn’t really matter now. He’s gone for good.”

Robert shivered. His son’s blood had soaked into the bed
linens and turned cold.

“My dear, sweet Robert,” Suzanne murmured. “I wish I could
hold you in my arms. You’re freezing.”

At least the pain was gone.

“It won’t be long now,” he whispered.

* * *

Melinda was at the sink, washing the dinner dishes. Robert
found Dan coming up the basement steps with a case of canning jars in his arms.

The moment he set the box on the kitchen table, Robert
popped into his head and took over. He walked Dan over to Melinda, turned her
around, her hands dripping water, and pulled her into a tight embrace.

“I love you so much,” Robert told Suzanne.

Melinda giggled nervously for a second, then she threw her
arms around Dan’s neck, and Suzanne pressed herself against Robert in a
passionate kiss.

The dishes were abandoned, the canning jars left dusty. In
the fading light of dusk, Robert combed his fingers through silky hair. He
trailed his hand along Suzanne’s curved waist to her hip, and felt her palms
massage his shoulders.

Twice, Robert stopped their lovemaking because he didn’t
want the moment to end. Then when Dan climaxed, Robert bellowed right along with
him. And Melinda’s orgasm must have been just as intense because she burst into
tears with the release.

She apologized for her outburst as they lay in each other’s
arms.

“I don’t know what brought that on,” she said, her voice
trembling.

“I don’t either,” Dan said, just as bewildered. “But that
one definitely goes on the list of best sex ever.” They both laughed. Robert
and Suzanne lay cuddled nearby.

“He’s right,” Robert said. “That definitely belongs in the
record books. I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to be dead as I was back
there when I finally got out of Robbie’s body.”

“That was quite a gamble you took.”

“No kidding.” Robert raised up on one elbow. “You know, when
Robbie and I decided to trade places, it was really difficult. At the time, I remember
thinking that it was a lot like giving birth. It felt like I was trying to push
an elephant out through Robbie’s left nostril.”

Suzanne cackled. “Wrong end.”

“Yeah, well, I was in his head.”

He rolled so that he hovered over her, and braced his forearms
near her head.

“I love you,” he said. “I wish we could just stay here until
I’m called.”

“No,” Suzanne said. “I can’t let you just slip away from me
like that. I want to be at the center, so I can be prepared when your time
comes.”

* * *

“You’re cutting it kind of close,” Sam barked when they
walked into the waiting room at the hospital. “They’re on Jack MacIlhenny. Then
it’s Bruce, Myra, a couple of temps from the Arizona facility, and you’re up.”

“Will they get to me today?” Robert asked.

“It’s hard to say,” Sam said. “They pulled your body out of
the Dewar a couple days ago. Once you’re thawed, they’ll send the nanobots in
to disconnect your brain. Are you interested in watching?”

Robert looked at Suzanne. She gave him a resigned nod.

Sam led them to a room with glass cylinders positioned
horizontally on gurneys every few feet. In each one, a body floated in liquid.
There were temps at each of the cylinders, watching, waiting. Some of them had
friends at their side for support.

“Over here,” Sam said.

They wove through the maze of temps and equipment until they
came to Robert. His body was pasty white, and looked bloated. At one end of the
cylinder, monitors blinked and digital numbers flashed.

“Oh, you’re getting close,” Sam said, tapping the panel.

The temperature gauge read ninety-six point three. When the
temperature hit ninety-eight point six, a beeper sounded. A technician left the
pod he was monitoring and came over to Robert’s.

The fluid in the chamber drained. Then the tech unlocked the
pod, typed some codes into a keypad, and a robotic arm with a syringe at the
end appeared overhead.

“Those are the nanobots,” Sam explained. “They’re injected
into the brain through the spinal cord. They’ll disperse in your brain and get
busy. Each one has a specific task to perform to disconnect your brain from the
stem. And all of the information will be recorded so when your brain is put in
the clone, the process is reversed.”

It was impossible to see anything happening. The numbers on
a monitor scrolled up so fast, they were nothing but a blur.

Robert longed to take Suzanne’s hand. He looked into her
eyes.

“Are you sure you want to be here?”

“I’m not leaving your side.”

They followed Sam to the surgical suite. On a table under
bright lights, lay Robert’s clone, a young twenty-one year old.

“You’re so handsome,” Suzanne said.

Sam joined them. “More nanobots are in there, disconnecting
the clone’s brain.”

Suzanne frowned.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “There was never any real activity.
No knowledge. It’s just a dormant brain.”

A robotic arm lowered near the clone’s head, and a laser
flashed, cutting a circle around the top of the shaved skull.

“What are they doing?” Robert asked.

“They have to take the blank brain out, and put yours in.
And they have to collect all the nanobots from your body’s circulatory system,
get them reorganized and reprogrammed. Then they’ll reinject them, and the bots
will attach your brain to the clone’s brain stem.”

“How long do I have?” Robert asked.

“Maybe an hour.”

He and Suzanne pushed through a huddle of on-lookers to a
corner of the surgical suite where they could be alone. They sank to the floor
with their backs to the wall.

“I must have told you a million times that I love you,” he
said, “but it still doesn’t seem like enough.”

Her eyes were as sad as the first day he met her.

“I know,” she said. “I love you, too. I always will.”

“I’m so sorry I won’t be able to remember.”

She nodded and gave him a bittersweet smile.

“Whatever you do,” he said, “please don’t follow me once I’m
alive again. I want you to remember me like this, not like some jerk.”

“I promise.”

Someone shouted from across the room, and a few of the temps
milling around crowded together to see what the disturbance was about.

“Get out of my way!” Someone yelled. A couple of the temps
stood shoulder to shoulder, like they were trying to keep a squatter out. But a
man pushed through them with a growl.

“I’ve got business here!’ he guffed.

It was Robbie.

He looked as shriveled and withered as ever, but his
shoulders didn’t look as stooped, weighed down with the pain. Once he saw
Robert, he strode over, elbowing people out of his way.

“Jesus Christ, Dad,” he carped when he stopped in front of
Robert. “Why didn’t you tell me traveling was such a bitch?”

Robert clamored to his feet. “Traveling?”

“Yeah. You sure as hell can’t catch a cab. And have you ever
tried to get off a bus when it’s moving?”

The scowl on Robbie’s face smoothed momentarily. “Is this
your lady friend?”

Unable to speak, Robert simply nodded.

Robbie extended a crippled hand to shake. “Glad to meet you,
Suzanne.”

She threw her arms around him. “And I’m very glad to see
you, Robbie.”

He backed away from her embrace and turned on Robert. “I
guess I’m not too late, no thanks to you.”

“Where did you go?” Robert asked.

“Hell, I’ve been all over this goddamn country,” Robbie
said. “I was going to just tour Richmond, you know, check out the town. But the
bus I got on went out to the airport. So, I figure what the hell. I’ll do like
you said and fly to New York. The whole goddamn town is changed. I couldn’t
find anything I remembered.”

Robert nodded numbly. “I suppose not.”

“I finally I just gave up and went back to the airport. And
guess what? The Richmond airport was closed because of some damn hurricane
heading up the east coast.”

Robert and Suzanne blurted out their shock at the same time.
“What?”

“Yeah,” Robbie said. “Don’t you watch the news?”

“No,” Robert snipped. “You watch game shows!”

“Oh, yeah.” Robbie tilted his head up wistfully, thinking
back. “Anyway, I finally get back to Richmond, and guess what? Somebody slit my
wrists!”

Chagrined, Robert raised his eyebrows and gritted his teeth.
“Oops.”

“Yeah, oops. Not that I cared about that old bag of bones,”
Robbie said, “but I wasted two days for nothing.”

“I guess your demise wasn’t on the news,” Robert said.

Robbie wobbled his head at Robert’s attempt at humor. “So
then I caught a flight to St. Louis, to the Cryonics Center—”

“Oh, no!” Suzanne groaned.

“Oh, yes. But of course, that facility was shut down
years
ago. Something else I wasn’t
told.”

Robbie glared at Robert, his mouth puckered in a scowl.

“For someone who’s trying to work a trade here,” he said,
“You sure made things difficult.”

“How did you find us?” Robert asked.

“They’ve turned the center into a little museum. There’s all
these fake bodies and brains all over the place with little plaques explaining
the process. One of the plaques showed a map of all the centers. I went to the
main center and some guy named Greyson sent me here.”

Sam interrupted Robert. “It’s time.”

“Holy shit!” Robbie hopped from foot to foot in a little
old-man shuffle. “What do we do?”

Waving an arm to move people aside, Sam led Robert and
Robbie back to the clone.

“See these numbers?” he said. “They’re showing how many
connections have been made. When they all reach 100, you’re done. That surgeon
will give you a small electrical pulse to sort of reboot your brain, and bingo.
You’re back.”