Maks and The Simulation (25th of May 2012)

Maks' induced unconscious state was interrupted by a terrible cough. He felt as if his left tonsil, oesophagus, and bronchial tubes tear with each attempt to cough out whatever needed to be coughed out. His state was somewhat calmed after he drank the coffee, and then, without any remorse, he lightened up a cigarette. Why should one feel remorse, after all? All that crap would happen even if he didn't smoke. Nobody's genes were reliable anymore. It was better not to know what is written in them.

However, he was bothered thinking about another gene therapy and the side effects of viral vectors. The last one was only two years ago. It probably goes that way. More frequently and badly until one time you decide to finish the story. It would be the best to do it in one of those places with projection of happy memories and ecstatic drugs. Sounds good. He wondered what of his memory could be chosen for projecting. He couldn't remember a thing. Perhaps the day his father taught him to swim. Yes. That was not bad.

Still, it wasn't time for end, yet. Before that he would like to go to Mars. He didn't like the fact that Mars today was equally distant as it was a hundred years ago. He imagined himself walking on rocks that turn to ashes. He can't hear anything but his own breathing. No one is there. It would be good to try this before he leaves. It wasn't likely that he will made it, unless the bright-green dots think of something, and fast.

He inhaled another smoke. Deeply. He wondered how it was for his grand-grandfathers in the time before the landmark progress of medicine. It had to be awful. Dying so helplessly. Against your will. Slowly and painfully. He read some book about it. About the guy who invented the cure. Some well-known name. He couldn't remember. D... D... D...

He should be going to the institute. He didn't feel like it. Boring job. Overseeing bright-green dots. Perhaps once a year something interesting happens. When one of the Delicates is let into Heaven. He was looking forward to those rare mistakes of the scanning protocols. They made his life more interesting. And he thought that bright-green dots also had to find these events interesting. On such days they would behave completely differently.

He entered the tube and already the next minute he was sitting, clean and perfectly sterile, in front of the monitor with green dots.

Too bad. A day like any other. No unusual dynamics.

Antonio Šiber, 2010.

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Last updated on 25th of May 2012.