Replacements, A SciFi Short Story

When Kayleigh’s grandmother takes a cybernetic replacement body, she becomes a virtual superwoman. Unfortunately, Kayleigh’s grandmother just can’t keep up. The family is forced to explore a new world split between the young, the old and the eternally young. What they discover threatens to tear them all apart.

Excerpt:



“So when are you going to transmigrate, Pawpaw?” Kayleigh asked.
He shook his head as he looked at his wife on the hospital bed between them. “I don’t know.”
“You shouldn’t wait. Grandma is going to be running circles around you in a few weeks.”
“I like this body. It’s comfortable.”
“That’s what Grandma said a month ago.” She squeezed her Grandma’s hand. It felt like paper--so insubstantial and pale, yet it burned with fever. “I would hate to lose you.”
“We didn’t plan on ever taking replacements. We were going to grow old together.”
“I’m sorry, Pawpaw.”
A nurse entered the room, and a pair of orderlies pushed a covered bed in behind her. The sheet did little to conceal the shape underneath. Arms, legs and head gave it distinctive lumps.
“Are you all going to stay for the procedure?” the nurse asked.
“Yes,” Pawpaw said. “I’m not leaving her now.”
“Me, too,” Kayleigh said.
Grandma’s eyes flickered open. She glanced around the room, panicked. Her gaze stopped on Pawpaw and her eyes returned to normal size. A breath wheezed out.
“Is it time?” Her voice was quiet, a pale reflection of her former vitality.
“It is,” the nurse said.
The orderlies whisked the sheet away to reveal a still body, one that could have been Grandma seventy years earlier. A thick cable connected to a jack under the armpit and lay across the shock of red hair that was nearly identical to Kayleigh’s. Maybe she’ll stop accusing me of stealing her hair, Kayleigh thought.
One of the orderlies connected the cable to the wall while the other, shorter one, turned a viewscreen to face Kayleigh and Pawpaw.
“I won’t remember any of this, will I?” Grandma asked.
Kayleigh pursed her lips. “You’ll only remember up to the start of the backup.”
Grandma smiled weakly.
“It’s alright, hon,” Pawpaw said. “They got all the important memories.”
“They’re all important. How long was I under?” Her hand rustled in Kayleigh’s. Birds had thicker bones.
“Three days,” Pawpaw said. “We stayed with you the whole time.
The smile twitched at Grandma’s lips again. “I wondered what stank.”
Pawpaw tried to return her smile, but it never reached his eyes. It was hard on him. Kayleigh reach across the bed and took his hand.
“Are you ready, ma’am?” The nurse asked.
Grandma closed her eyes. “Yes.”
Kayleigh couldn’t see the doubts and the fear, but she knew they were there. She felt them herself. It didn’t matter how many times the transmigrations were successfully performed; everyone remembered the ones that failed.
“You won’t feel anything, I promise. It will be just like going to sleep.” To Pawpaw she said, “Mr. Larson, are you sure you can handle this?”
“No, but I will.”
“Very well,” the nurse said. “Good night, Mrs. Larson. We’ll see you in a few minutes.” She pushed a button on the IV and backed up, giving them a little privacy.
“I love you, Paul.” Her eyes closed.
“I love you, too.” Pawpaw blinked back tears. He squeezed Kayleigh’s hand, his strength and gentleness a comfort.
They both watched as Grandma’s chest rose and fell, then didn’t rise again. Pawpaw hunched over and lifted her frail hand to his lips. He placed her hand across her chest, and Kayleigh laid the other on top.
“All systems are green,” the shorter orderly said. “BIOS is up, backup restoration is commencing.”
Kayleigh eased around the bed and slipped an arm around her grandfather’s back. They watched the viewscreen over her grandmother’s body as the progress meters ticked along. Exabytes of her grandmother’s memories flowed down the cable to the living diamond inside the replacement’s chest. The CPU ticked up higher, oscillating as the diamond absorbed the data and synched with the onboard processors.
Pawp