Here and there, forever

Somewhere in northern France, in a distant future. 6:30 a.m.

Jin Wu, a former neurosurgeon, in his forties, stared at the screen on his desk in the dim morning light. The patient schedule scrolled before his tired eyes, a routine as mechanical as the limbs he replaced daily. His gaze stopped abruptly on a name: Theo Garnier.

His hand tightened imperceptibly around his cup of coffee. Twenty years. It had been twenty years since he’d last seen that name. Right ankle replacement. 10 a.m. ” 11 a.m.

Thanks to the chip directly connected to his cerebral cortex, Jin sent an instant message to his colleague Sofia, the neural interface translating his thoughts into words: “Hey, I probably won’t be available around 11 for about an hour.”

Sofia’s reply appeared directly in his field of vision, overlaid on reality like a glowing ghost: “Hi Jin, no problem. Nothing serious, I hope?

- Shouldn’t be. Hopefully. I’ll tell you later.

The operations proceeded as planned in the modest four-story clinic.

11 a.m. A slender man in a three-piece suit stepped out of the clinic’s elevator. His complexion was extremely pale, but thanks to biotechnological advances, nothing in his stride hinted that he had just undergone an ankle replacement. He walked up to the humanoid receptionist and asked to see Doctor Jin Wu. The receptionist replied, “Of course. Who should I announce?”

- Theo Garnier.

The receptionist tilted her head with robotic precision: “Doctor Wu will come to get you. Please wait in the waiting room.”

As he walked toward the indicated room, Theo’s eyes methodically scanned the corridor walls, as if he could see through the material. Once alone in the empty waiting room, he began pacing, eyes fixed on the floor, analyzing, calculating.

Not far away, Jin was watching Theo on a surveillance screen. His former friend hadn’t changed: still that habit of scanning everything, analyzing everything. He rose from his desk, heart pounding with an apprehension he couldn’t quite define.

In the waiting room, Theo had finally sat near the window. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting bars of shadow across his pale face.

Jin entered, a forced smile on his lips: “Theo Garnier… how long has it been?”

Theo’s face lit up with a smile that seemed genuine: “I’d say at least twenty years.”

The two men shook hands. Theo’s grip was firm, almost too firm.

- Let’s go to my office”, Jin suggested. “It’ll be better to talk.”

They walked down the corridor in silence, their footsteps echoing in the clinic’s recycled air.

Jin and Theo each settled into a worn leather armchair. A serving robot on wheels, an old but functional model, approached Jin. With a slight nod toward Theo, Jin indicated for the robot to serve his guest first.

Theo observed the machine with amusement : “I didn’t know they still made this model. A coffee.”

Jin smiled at the remark as a steaming cup emerged from the tray : “We’re not as modern as you folks over in the Plain.” Theo accepted the jab with grace.

- How are you? What have you been up to? Jin asked

- Can’t complain too much.” Theo sipped his coffee. “I didn’t even have to tell you I live in the Plain.”

Jin gestured vaguely up and down his face: “No need. It shows.

- Yeah, I clearly need some sun.” Theo laughed. “And you? How are you? You look well.”

Jin shrugged, pointing at various parts of his body: “Well, not much of this still truly belongs to me. Otherwise, it’s the usual routine, but when you watch the news, you realize it could be much worse elsewhere.

- Still married? Jin stiffened ever so slightly: “Yes.

- To Xiao?

- Yes.

- Would’ve been surprised otherwise. You two were crazy about each other the last time I saw you.” Theo set down his cup. “We could have dinner one of these nights, if you’re up for it.”

Jin’s expression closed up: “It’s not that I don’t want to, but it won’t be possible.”

- Oh? Why not?

Jin took a deep breath, as if preparing to reopen an old wound: “Xiao and our daughter were deported nine years ago to Community 5.”

The shock on Theo’s face seemed genuine: “What!? Why didn’t you go with them?

- It’s a long story.” Jin’s voice cracked slightly. “I’ll tell you another time, if you don’t mind.”

- Of course. I can tell it upset you, sorry for bringing it up.

- No worries.” Jin quickly pulled himself together. “So, how are things in the Plain? Still working?

- Yeah, still working.

- Omni or AuraSun? Jin asked.

- Omni. AuraSun wasn’t that big back then and Omni made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.

Jin nodded. He knew Omni. Everyone knew Omni.

- There are a lot of benefits working there”, Theo continued. “But things are tense right now. The locals accuse us of hoarding all the resources and not sharing anything.

- Are they right?

Jin already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear Theo say it.

- That, I can’t say.

- Come on, Theo, it’s just the two of us here… well, I think.” Jin cast a cautious glance around. “It’s understandable that people want their share of the pie too, right?”

Jin’s caution was justified: neural chips constantly sent and received data. You never really knew who was listening.

Theo smirked, as if amused by a message he’d just received, but quickly grew serious again: “Jin, you know those people don’t care about anything anymore. They don’t work. Most of them don’t even have a reason to exist.”

Jin couldn’t hide his shock at his old friend’s lack of empathy. Theo noticed and tried to recover: “Besides, we have to admit, the global standard of living has greatly improved thanks to Omni. No one dies of hunger anymore, we can treat almost anything, every body part is replaceable, work is optional, and there’s nearly no fake news…”

- Yes, the standard of living has improved.” Jin’s voice hardened. “But Omni hid its methods at first. And now that the truth is out, I can’t accept living better at the expense of those left behind.”

- You’re still a good man, Jin. But them… Why do they stay there? It’s indecent.

- I don’t think I’m necessarily a good man, just human.” Jin clenched his fists. “And I don’t believe it’s really their choice. With the rising sea levels, the deportations, the uprisings, and AI running daily life… being born under a lucky star has never mattered more.

- You’re not wrong.” Theo leaned in. “But you? Why are you still here? You never considered coming to the Plain?”

Jin squinted, suddenly on guard. “Ah, here we go. You’re recruiting?”

Theo didn’t deny it: “That’s not far from the truth. The Board of Directors officially wants you to join Omni.”

- You know, officially, I’m a just a simple cybernetics repairman.

- How you end being just that in UbiRight files is another discussion, but I know you man.

- Why me? You already have excellent surgeons.

- Yes, but none of them can achieve what the Board wants.

- And what exactly do they want?

- To transfer a brain, or at least a consciousness, into an android.

Jin sank back into his chair, the implications of the revelation branching through his mind like a tree.

- Ah, so they don’t just want androids with emotions. They want immortality. Is that really good for humanity?

- That’s not for me to judge. But you’ve worked on this before, haven’t you?

- Yes… but it’s been a while.

Theo stared at him unblinkingly. “With your expertise and Omni’s technology, it’s doable.

- Wow, so much pressure.” Jin tried to joke, but his voice betrayed his unease.

- Nothing the Jin I knew couldn’t handle.

- Then if that’s still the image you have of me, you also know I could never work for Omni. Too much greed, too little regard for others.

- About that, the new Board has really improved Omni’s image, in my opinion.

- To me, it’s just PR. In practice, they haven’t changed their ways at all.

- Now you’re being too harsh. Let me arrange a meeting with them. Maybe it’ll change your mind. Theo leaned in further. “Oh, and needless to say, they’ll pay you very well.

- Theo, it’s not about the money. A scientist can work for free if they believe in the cause.

- True.” Theo’s tone turned colder. “Just keep in mind that these are extremely powerful people. Tell your price. And I’m not asking for an answer right now, but offers like this don’t come around every day.”

Jin’s neurons, amplified by his neural chip, activated to simulate all possible scenarios. Images, probabilities, consequences… all flashed through his enhanced mind at lightning speed.

- You’re right, Theo. It’s an interesting offer.” He paused. “But I can’t accept.”

- Fair enough, I won’t insist.” Theo shifted the topic with calculated ease. “Tell me, if you haven’t been working on brains and consciousness, what have you been working on? Mostly replacements?”

- Yes, exactly. Organ or limb replacements. Ranges from basic cybernetic functions to much more advanced components, obviously within legal limits.”

- Of course.” Theo smiled. “So you’ve got a license?

- Yes, of course.

- Very good.” Theo stood, followed by Jin. “Well, I don’t want to keep you longer. I’ll head out. Thanks for your time. I’ll be in town for a few more days. If you have questions, or better yet, if you change your mind, don’t hesitate to reach out. We could also grab a bite if you’d like.”

- Sure thing, thanks. It was good seeing you again.

- Likewise.

The two men shook hands, but as Jin tried to pull away, Theo held on, staring him straight in the eyes with unsettling intensity.

- Uh… you okay, Theo?

- Uh, yeah, sorry.” Theo finally released Jin’s hand, but his eyes kept that strange gleam. “Think about it, please. Carte blanche. Thanks again.”

As Theo left, Jin received a message through his neural implant : “Great work bro”.

Theo exited the clinic, his slightly tinted glasses masking his scrutinizing eyes. Far from there, Victor, his humanoid assistant, had followed the entire conversation through connected glasses that recorded every word, every micro-expression.

While walking toward his car, Theo initiated a neural-chip conversation with Victor.

“I think you covered the key points and I’ve never seen you that forceful with your words, boss”, Victor said, trying to sound optimistic.

- That’s not the issue”, Theo replied angrily. “The Board won’t be happy. And next time, no remote jokes during such a critical conversation.

- What joke?

- The one about the communists, when Jin asked if it was so crazy that the locals wanted their share.

- Oh, sorry boss.”

Theo approached his car. No need for a key or to touch the handle: his brain chip sent the unlock command. He removed his jacket with a weary motion and tossed it onto the back seat. Once seated, another brain command started the engine, and the autonomous vehicle headed toward his hotel.

As the car glided silently along the road, Theo said: “Show me again the moment when Jin says he hasn’t worked on consciousness transfer in a long time.”

Victor projected the video onto the transparent windshield. Amid the driving data, the scene replayed:

- Yes, but it goes back quite a while” Jin said when Theo asked him if he had ever worked on transferring consciousness into an android.

- Do you think he’s telling the truth? Theo asked.

- He seems sincere. I saw you watching him closely, trying to read everything, but I didn’t detect anything strange. Do you think he’s lying?

- I don’t know. It used to be his thing, but nothing ever came out of it. Thinking about it now, I find it strange that someone of his caliber hasn’t tried anything, especially after his family was deported. By the way, why didn’t you have that info?

- I checked just after Jin mentioned it. Found nothing. Not surprising: back then, the administration was terrified of leaving any trace. No due process.

- Yeah, good point. Show me the handshake at the end.

- Right away. I actually noticed you were looking at his neck.

- Yeah. Do you see anything?

- Nothing. Same with the walls you scanned. But on the floor, there was a weird zone.

- Weird how?

- There should’ve been concrete, but it felt hollow, like for an extra room.

- Hmm, maybe a basement accessible from another room. Try to find any other blueprint of the building, it might be important. Put a reminder for later once you get all the info.

The video faded as Theo continued over an endless bridge, suspended high above the water. He looked down at the sea stretching as far as the eye could see, deep in thought.

- Hard to believe millions of people used to live down there.

- In a way, we were lucky, Victor replied.

- Explain.

- If the polar ice had melted all at once, the Gulf Stream would’ve stopped immediately. Everything would’ve frozen. We’d never have had time to build all this. A few well-prepared billionaires might’ve survived, but stranded, alone, with no idea what to do.

Theo kept staring at the water that had swallowed the old world.

- Did the Board ask you for a report?

- No, you know they don’t talk to me. You think they’ll assign this to Alfonso?

- Most likely. He’s a brute, not the right person to convince someone like Jin.

- You think they’ll use force?

- Without a doubt. Given what they’ve done before.” Theo sighed. “Alright, enough work talk. I’m starving.”

- There should be a dose in the glovebox.

- Perfect.

Theo took a small metal case from the glove compartment. With precise gestures, he rolled up the left sleeve of his shirt and tapped twice on his forearm. A small hatch opened, revealing an empty compartment and the complex internal mechanisms of his bionic arm. He inserted the case, tapped twice again. The hatch closed with a soft pneumatic hiss, and Theo exhaled in relief.

His vehicle arrived at the hotel and entered an elevator that took him directly to the eighth floor. As he stepped out of the car, Theo received an augmented reality notification. The sender flashed in red: Nathan Jackson, Board of Directors: Can we talk?

Theo closed his eyes. The day was far from over.