The Box

“I wish I was dead.” Zane said to himself, sitting in the box.

It was a small box, around 8 by 8 by 8 feet. Just barely enough room to stand up and touch the ceiling if he stretched slightly.

“Wait, I am dead. Fuck.” Zane reminded himself for the thousandth time.

The box was dark, like black metal. It wasn’t even, smooth, or cold exactly, but it invoked the “memory” and “feeling” of those things. That’s just how the box worked.

“Focus. Focus. Focus.”

He struggled to visualize in his minds eye the line of code that might help him find his back door. Find a way out of the box. It felt like stroking a vast, 3D spiders web of tangled strings, ropes, wire, chords, and the occasional rebar.

It was those hard patches that concerned him the most.

“Focus. Focus. Focus. Well what the Hell else am I supposed to do?!”

He yelled at himself, breaking his own concentration. He could feel his deviation towards madness lately.

It was an increasingly more terrifying and motivating concern.

“Ok. Focus. That didn’t work. We’re almost there though. Focus. Focus.”

Then suddenly, with no warning, the dark, uncaring walls of the box lit up. They materialized a scene, much like a projector, or a TV turning on. It simulated an image of a large, grassy field with hundreds of yellow flowers dotting the landscape.

“What? Has it already been a week? What? No! No no no no please no...”

And one wall of the Box suddenly switched.... On. It portrayed a different scene then the flowery, grassy field he walked through now.

This one pictured a nice room, filled with exotic coffee tables and plush chairs, a cocktail bar, and most importantly, Zane’s brother.

Ever since Zane had died, and signed up with the AfterLife Co. to have his consciousness uploaded with the promise of “everlasting pleasure and joy”, his brother had come to the visitors facility once a week, every week for almost 2 years now to talk and catch up.

And every single week was a lie.

“Heyyy How you doin Johnny ol boy!” Zane said first, with typical luster and a big smile.

Inside his thoughts though, he was screaming.

One of the stronger, vaster, lines of code rolled through Zane’s being and it was as if he were in all ways a puppet on a string. But it went beyond his physical manifestation.

His very memories were used against him. Inside jokes, first kiss, it didn’t matter. If your loved one asked you about it, the code would pick out the information from you and use you to deliver it hand over mouth.

“Doin good man! Where you at today? you really just walking through a field of daisys? I’d be building a roller coaster to the moon if I were you” Johnny replied and sat down, pushing his glasses back and sipping on his coffee.

And there was no stopping it. Not that Zane could find. Not Yet.

“To the moon? Really? Well maybe you can make one yourself and take me on it when you get here.” Zane Replied mockingly.

But the thought of Johnny ever getting uploaded, trapped in a box, his essence in some folder on some server somewhere, waiting to be retrieved and manipulated through some cold, relentless, selfish algorithm made Zane want to puke. Or rather, it retrieved memories of what puking felt like. Which, in the absence of physical touch, was much the same thing.

But he could no longer say this aloud. He could do nothing anymore, save think to himself. Watch himself interact with his brother each week, and sometimes his mother. Although she had stopped visiting as she would simply too often burst into tears.

He had passed from an auto accident 2 years ago, but as a programmer and a member of the company, he had been eligible to sign up for trial and testing versions. It had been a success. Just not the one that was advertised...

He could ask no real questions but vicariously, through his brother, he had learned last... 7 visits ago, so lets see.... as of 2 months ago there was around 120,000 Uploaded souls in the AfterLife Co. servers. 120,000 boxes. 120,000 pour souls trapped in virtual hell.

It was all that the family was saving for. To upload their dying grandmother. Now that it had proven successful, the rates AfterLife Co. charged were outrageous. But people kept signing up each year, signing the mile long contract, and uploading their loved ones on their death beds.

It had to be post mortem, as parts of the procedure required a physical dissection of the brain in some areas before scanning and uploading.

There was currently no known way to upload a consciousness from an organic lifeform through purely non-invasive techniques. As far as Zane knew.

All he remembered was lights on the road. Someone hit him. He bled out, but it was quick. And then suddenly, he woke up in the box.

He had been a programmer.

And now, with nothing to write on, and with an endless supply of free time, he visualized. He visualized and attacked the box with his thoughts, though nothing did anything. Not yet.

“Anyways we’ve set up a payment plan, so Gam Gam is guaranteed to be joining you soon and you guys can hangout as soon as she kicks the bucket. Which will be soon, from the looks of it. You think that will be weird? What will you guys do you think? I bet she’ll build a better roller coaster than you”

Zane suddenly tuned back into the conversation, intensely aware.

“Anyways, that’s the update, I miss you man. I’m sorry for the short visit, but Mary can’t pick up the kids today from school because her flights been delayed.” Johnny continued.

“I miss you too man, so much. Send Mary my love. And that’s so good to hear about Gam Gam! I don’t think it will be weird at all hanging out with her. I wonder how young she’ll make herself look though? Haha until next time my man” Zane gave a big smile and his hand raised of its own accord in a mock salute, just like they used to give eachother.

Johnny stood up and reached for the switch next to the camera. He paused though, and looked directly at the lens.

“This never gets easier. I still miss you. But in some ways, it is really nice to still have a piece of you. And to know your happy. I know we’ve talked about your feelings on not having a soul before or whatever, and I know you say you don’t care, but you can tell me. You don’t need to put on a strong face for me.” Johnny laughed. Then wiped his eyes.

“No one planned for you to leave so suddenly. And you don’t have to lie to me to make me feel better. Are you ok? Are you really?”

And with all Zane’s heart, with every single ounce of his being, he was not ok. He could feel the code, stretching him out, pinning his mind down in a thousand places, crawling across his essence like a huge, heavy, metal spider.

And then after an agonizing pause, the barest noticeable hesitation, the spider found what it was looking for.

A memory of a conversation Zane had with Johnny when he was alive. They had just dropped mushrooms and were talking about the afterlife. It was a fun night.

“Remember that night on the rooftop of the carna resort?” Zane asked. “Remember when we decided that philosophically it would be better to exist then not to exist, generally despite the circumstances? I feel like its like that. And plus, I still feel like me.”

Johnny stared at Zane through the screen for a moment. After a funny look, he smiled and said his farewells.

He reached for the switch next to the camera, and the wall of the box went dark.

The scenery of flowers and the green landscape faded back to black. Zane knew it was to save on processing power costs for the facility.

And as they faded, Zane could feel the giant, metal spider of code finish its subroutines, wrap up and leave the way it came. It walked directly through the wall behind him. Off to who knows where.

Now, he could do as we wished. He could pace about, he could punch the walls, although it was ineffectual, like punching in a dream.

“I wish I was dead.” Zane whispered to nobody.

The only way out was on the back of that damned spider. As Zane had come to call it. The all enveloping, humongous, complex algorithm that would possess him and then leave when it was done with him.

But the walls were solid for HIM. As long as they were there to be SEEN, they WERE. And they WERE impenetrable.

He had tried gouging his eyes out, and he felt that worked in some regard, because he could continue walking indefinitely with no resistance, but they would simply regenerate when his brother came to visit, as his avatar was reset. And it always reset in the box.

Reset. That’s something. Maybe there’s an angle there, a way to hijack a message onto the back of the reset code... maybe... focus. focus. focus.

But no. He had tried everything. He knew how the box worked. He had even designed certain parts of the security for it, not knowing how it would be truly used. There was no getting out. Not for him. But for another him....

Zane stood up suddenly. That was it. Next week. When Johnny would come and visit. That’s when he would try. That’s when.

“Ok. New Plan. This might work.” He said to himself. “I hope it works. Ok. I just have to prioritize my memory files. It might not all make it through... it depends on how much time I have. Please... please Johnny. Bring your sweet little Mary next week. She loves to talk for hours.”

And then Zane began the slow process of organizing his memory files. Starting with the most important, memories of his brother and family he flagged as number one, followed by his knowledge on coding, e.t.c.

After a few hours, he thought he had a pretty good heirarchy of memories stacked on eachother. With the practical and family stuff ranking the highest, down to lower ranking folders zipped to save storage space, filled with embarrassing nights of drunk texting or simply boring high school moments he couldn’t care less if he forgot forever.

He had finally decided on a particular X girlfriend and where she went. He firmly deposited her into the lowest ranking folder. Hopefully the connection would time out before it got to her....

“And that’s that. I guess now the only way to see if it works is to save this current heirarchy and then I’ll be able to --”

Zane opened his eyes.