It had only been a month since Nolan’s mind, to include his personality, was reverse engineered and transplanted into his new synthetic android body. Nolan was still getting used to walking without tripping over common objects like furniture. He was still learning basic motor control of the first generation synthetic body he now inhabited, and had yet to master getting back to his feet if he misjudged distances using the robotic equilibrium interface to his still intact human sense of depth perception. His body did come with upgrades that allowed him to filter out fear impulses, so it was no big deal for him to lie face down on the floor bent in an awkward position. He did not panic as he would have if he still inhabited his “old man” body. And besides, he had an anniversary to plan.
Nolan knew that this was not going to be like any of the other 49 anniversaries he and his wife Anichka spent together. She was still trying to adjust to her husband’s new synthetic body and his – in her opinion – wild trans-humanist beliefs. For Anichka the most painful part of the transformation came after the procedure was complete when they attended the funeral of Nolan’s physical body. Hunched over, her body shaking, Anichka held tight to her android husband’s hand as she looked down at Nolan’s human body in the open casket. She cried out Nolan’s name over and over as she looked at his lifeless body. Nolan fought the urge to answer “I am here. I am not dead.” His mind still processed every emotion – still held every memory his organic mind had possessed – and to see his wife suffer like this was devastating. Nolan fought the urge to pull his wife out of the room and remained at her side.
They made the front page of every news outlet on planet earth: Synthetic Human Attends His Own Funeral. It was a sad and happy occasion and brought instant fame to the humble old couple. Nolan’s physical body had worn out, ravaged by old age, but his memory, his essential essence, lived on in his new body. Still intact were the memories of their first kiss in Kiev where they met. He had not forgotten that first meeting where they spent every day they had together strolling through Kiev’s city center. It rained a lot that trip, so they shared an umbrella and traveled in the showers oblivious to the weather. The raindrops were ethereal in nature and made their journey more romantic as they often made stops kissing passionately, huddled together under cover of shop entrances, the smell of baked bread and fresh brewed coffee escaping into the open air, waiting out strong downpours, holding hands for hours as they traveled like gypsies from shop, to cafe, to museum. All the memories that make up a life – a human existence – still lived on in Nolan’s synthetic intelligence. It was on that rainy day in Kiev that their romance blossomed, and the pledge was made: “I will love you forever” promised Nolan that evening.
The sun rose, and Anichka found her man sprawled out on the floor. She smiled as she balanced herself with her cane and helped Nolan get back on his feet. After he was upright the pair made their way to the kitchen nook where they always greeted the morning.
“As you know honey,” Nolan said as he carefully put the teapot on the stove. “It’s our 50th wedding anniversary. As I lay on the floor last night I planned everything.”
“That’s wonderful dear” Anichka replied. “Yes. . . Ok. . . Ok. . . Alright. . . .” She mumbled quietly to herself . . . her hands trembling from old age.
“I used my neural internet connection to book a space plane to the French restaurant in Kiev where I proposed to you,” said Nolan.
He turned from the oven and faced his wife to see her expression when she heard the news. As he spun around his right arm collided with the teapot, and it flew off the stove, tumbled to the floor, and water splashed everywhere.
“I’m sorry” Nolan said to his wife. “This new body. I. . . .”
Anichka interrupted: “I don’t care about that. I was so afraid that I was going to lose you.” She said as she started crying softly. “But I didn’t – you are still here and I am not alone.”
She looked at her husband standing next to the stove, his android body smooth, muscular, and utterly alien to the man she had grown old with and loved since high school. Yet he was still here . . . by her side, loving her, caring for her as he always had before he grew sick, grew old, and started to disintegrate as her body was now breaking down, wearing out, preparing itself for the grave.
“I promised you that I would love you forever,” said Nolan dropping to one knee and assuming the position of a gentleman proposing for the first time.
“Well. . . You sure are a man that keeps your promises” said Anichka as she smiled with eyes still wet from tears.
“When do we leave for Kiev?” she asked cheerfully.
“As soon as you help me up,” said Nolan, “I think my knee is locked in position.”
Later that evening, after checking into the Hotel in Kiev where 50 years ago Nolan and Anichka spent their first night together, the pair navigated through packs of paparazzi and finally arrived at the restaurant where Nolan had proposed to Anichka. It was not a real fancy one as restaurants go in the capital of Ukraine, but it held a special place in their heart. Nolan arranged for protection by phoning ahead and convincing the owner of the restaurant to provide security to keep the press outside as they enjoyed a quiet dinner. As in the old days – anything in Ukraine could be arranged for a price.
Once seated at a small table for two in a romantic back corner, Nolan and Anichka held hands from across the small table and stared deep into each other’s eyes. Nolan’s artificial eyes had the look and function of natural organic eyes. They were not patterned after his human eyes, but they were amazingly lifelike. Nolan insisted that the sound of his voice be recorded and synthesized before he died so it would sound identical to his organic self. It seemed a bit odd to match up an ageless powerful android body with the voice of an old man, but that’s the way Nolan wanted it to keep Anichka at ease and comfortable with his new appearance. Nolan did not eat of course. He did not require food or water. Eventually, they released their grip on each other and Anichka started looking at the menu. After a bit, the waiter came over, and she ordered liver as she did on the same night the two dined together a long fifty years ago.
“I have a surprise for you,” said Nolan as neo-synapses triggered the neural code for a pleasant smile.
Anichka put her fork on the plate and looked up at her husband.
Nolan placed a small handmade cherry wood box on the table.
Anichka smiled and raised her left hand. “It’s about time you replaced this old ring” she said, her hand and arm shaking unsteadily.
“No, dear,” Nolan replied. “It’s more than that. Go ahead and open it.”
Anichka picked up the box and slowly looked in. She pulled out a small piece of paper, a receipt from the same company that reverse engineered Nolan’s brain and transplanted it into his new body. She read the document for a few minutes and then set the paper down on the table and started to cry.
“I can’t come with you Nolan.” She said. “When it’s time for me to die you are going to have to let me go.”
Nolan reached across the table and put his hand delicately on her arm. “Don’t you understand Anichka? People don’t have to die anymore.”
There was silence as they looked across the table at each other. Their hands once again instinctively were joined together as their arms stretched across the small table. The diners closest to them also grew silent as they strained to hear what was to be said next. The silence spread throughout the restaurant and even the waiters froze in place, time stopping, as silence enveloped the room in soft downy feathers, spreading out like early morning mist covering a grassy knoll.
“Yes they do” softly whispered Anichka.
“Are you afraid that you will not go to heaven?” Asked Nolan.
“Yes. I am afraid. I want to stay with you more than anything in this world, but I just can’t. You will have to let me go when it’s my time. Get your money back. If you are going to live forever you are going to need it,” Anichka replied as tears continued to flow.
“I can’t live without you,” pleaded Nolan.
“Yes you can” answered Anichka. “You are going to live forever. Remember silly?”
The two laughed. The restaurant hustled and bustled again and time flowed on. Nolan let the subject drop since he did not want to ruin the evening. They stayed at the restaurant long past the end of the meal reliving old memories such as that gentle cat named Mel that captured their hearts, the vacations at the beach, the kids and all the beauty and joy they brought to their lives. Nolan pretended to drink as they made toast after toast with sparkling grape juice. They had quit drinking alcohol many years before the singularity embraced Nolan. It was past midnight when they paid their bill and made for the door. Nolan motioned for one of the security men. From the virtual window that appeared in his mind he accessed his Ukrainian language database, and told the guard in perfect Ukrainian that they were walking back to the hotel. He instructed the guards to keep the press far away from them as they walked.
His wife was behind Nolan as he spoke to the lead guard and overheard their conversation. “But dear,” Anichka said. “I can’t walk that far anymore. Not like in the old days.”
Nolan whirled about and said: “I think I am getting the hang of these new legs.” With that he picked up Anichka who weighed only 110 pounds now, and held her in his arms like cradling a tiny baby. She wrapped her arms around his neck, looked deep into his eyes, and held on as Nolan started walking away from the restaurant with the love of his life in his arms.
There was no rain that night but the sky was overcast and the trees swayed with the wind. They passed wondrous buildings built in 17th and 18th century using the Ukrainian baroque and rococo style of architecture. They stopped on Khreshchatyk Street to let Anichka stretch her legs. On a park bench they snuggled together and people watched for hours before Nolan picked her up again and carried her back to the hotel. Once in their room they sat by the window and whispered to each other as they looked down at the night lights of Kiev. Anichka eventually fell asleep in Nolan’s arms. He gently picked her up, placed her on the bed and covered her with a blanket. He gently kissed her on the forehead, shut off all the lights, and went back to his seat by the window and stared out into the darkness.
Anichka died three months later and was buried. Try as he might Nolan could never convince her to follow him down the path of immortality. Her religious beliefs were just too strong. With nothing to keep him in the United States, he moved to Kiev where their two daughters now lived. When skies become cloudy and the rain starts to fall, Nolan can often be seen under an umbrella on the streets of Kiev tracing the path he and Anichka traveled as they fell in love floating through the ancient city, their feet barely touching the cobblestone roads, as they held hands and kissed, and played in the showers like barefoot children. Three hundred. . . Four hundred. . . Five hundred. . . A thousand years later Nolan continues to walk alone in the rain, never forgetting his promise to love Anichka forever.
~By Kyle Pollard
Authors Note: I wrote this short story for my wife and our 13th wedding anniversary. If given the opportunity to live forever via some future transhumanist technology, my wife would rather take the path chosen by Anichka in The Wedding Anniversary. My love for my wife is undying, and if the events described in this story ever became reality, I would keep the memory of her as my one prized possession, a sub-routine set to execute daily, to remind me of the love I left behind. A memory never to be erased.
