Page 2 of CHOICE Lover
A sudden urge to rush to the lab momentarily distracts him, almost a compulsion. That’s what he always does when his emotions are getting out of hand. But his work has been fruitless since his initial breakthrough—the discovery that nucleic acid memory, or NAM, a form of DNA-encoded data storage buried in a previously undetected neural layer housing experiential memory, could have instructions or data imprinted into it. Despite the countless hours he’s devoted to pushing that science—the potential theoretical applications for programming NAM are compelling—he hasn’t made any significant progress. No notable findings. When Jerme died, so did his inspiration.
“What am I doing with my life, Jerme? You thought I’d make the world a better place, but I’ve done nothing.” No meaningful impact. He could have at least discovered a way to shield others from the acute pain he still lives with daily. Doesn’t he owe that much to Jerme? Instead, he’s letting him down. Again.
But how can he possibly be good enough to fix the entire world?
He has a strong urge to slide down the smooth cladding and lay there on the warm stones until the coroner comes for him too.
Res6, it wasn’t your fault.
Those aren’t his words. They’re from the psychologist he worked with during the first year when his grief was winning. The man’s belief remains in direct conflict with the one his mind can’t seem to release.
I wasn’t enough.
He wasn’t even who Jerme left a letter for. An image of 3Zeez flashes through his mind. Though Res6 never saw the woman’s appeal, Jerme became enamored, and their relationship progressed quickly.
It was just like Jerme to jump into things—like the one time he came home on a mission to invent more realistic simulation chamber props. Another time, Jerme decided to bring back private aviation, even though the world’s two major governing bodies manage all air transportation through the official state airline Uni-Fly due to unfavorable climate conditions. He started an online group that continued even after he lost interest, going as far as petitioning the government—which rejected their petition, swiftly disbanding the group.
The point is, when Jerme said they were moving in together after only a few weeks, Res6 had no reason to be alarmed. He figured his relationship with 3Zeez was a passing fling, and he’d lose interest soon enough. But one day, it all unraveled. Jerme showed up at the lab, claiming 3Zeez had disappeared and left no way to contact her.
Res6 had never seen his brother so broken. Nothing was the same after that. He didn’t hate 3Zeez, exactly. He hated how vulnerable she’d made Jerme and how disposable she’d found him. But if it weren’t 3Zeez, it would have been someone else. People had too many options, Bored? Replace your partner. Move halfway across the globe and reinvent yourself. It’s what 3Zeez did. What society needs is a disposable—no, areplaceable—companion. That way, people like Jerme wouldn’t become collateral damage.
He straightens, giving his reflection a hard look. Is that the answer? A disposable companion?
Before he was born, ASI Personal Companions had been popular. They’re banned now—along with most advanced artificial superintelligence. After The Great Equalizer, the world’s governing bodies moved quickly to eliminate any tech they saw as a threat.
Surely he could come up with a biological solution—no ASI required, so less government scrutiny.
Res6 glances down the street in the direction of F Quadrant, toward his lab. Considering NAM’s programming potential, would it bepossible to develop an accelerated adult clone that would—wait! What is he thinking? The ethical concerns would present a challenge, not to mention logistics. The raw organic material alone would require substantial funding. But if he could develop the neural mesh incubation technology to synthesize certain safeguards in the RNA structure, he might get approval from the Consumer Rights Protection Agency. He already has access to a vast catalog of DNA samples.
His cheeks pinch, the respirator cutting into his skin. Zorg, is he smiling? The science itself is fascinating, but if he could provide an option for the disposable companion people want, it would protect people like Jerme—the people getting disposed of.
A virtual—no,literal—flesh and blood manufactured partner could be programmed to meet the needs of its owner, and when they were done, themanupartner—its organic material—could be recycled and reused.
A fresh wave of energy hums through him. It’s been so long since he’s felt this way. Too long.
There will be certain elements of the brain-body connection to work out. He’ll need to make sure any old synaptic memory is severed, for one, which isn’t something he specializes in, but he can develop a team. Perhaps he can get access to one of MSP’s new NAM Wave Reconstructors used in rare cases for memory loss patients. It might take a few years to develop a prototype. With the current promise of advancements in the scientific community and the significance of his initial discovery, he’ll have no trouble getting funding.
He can do it. Set this new mission in motion. The question is, will he?
The answer flickers in his mind before he forces it into a solidYes.
Yes. This is exactly what he needs to do. It will be his company. His impact on the world. His way of saving all the other Jermes out there,the way he couldn’t save his own twin. But now his brother can live on. This will be Jerme’s legacy.
His heart hammers as he stares at the spot his GPS guides him to every year. From his pocket, he retrieves the preserved poppy, a flower symbolizing remembrance, that he had specially procured. He clutches the flower, needing to act before the moment is gone. Do something—no, say something.
He draws a deep breath in through his nose, seeking the right words for a long moment before they come to him. His voice is muffled but steady as he says, “Jerme, I couldn’t save you, but with what I will invent, no one will ever suffer like you did again. This is what I will do for you. It will be our legacy, and I will call it . . .” He hesitates as insufficient word combinations flash through his mind.
He scans his surroundings, searching for inspiration. A couple carrying a bright pink umbrella dotted with rainbow-colored hearts walks near, glancing in his direction. Their heads incline together as they pass by, but they don’t spare him a backward glance. It doesn’t matter what they’re saying or what they think they’ve observed.
This is the moment he’s been waiting for. Why he comes to this site year after year, searching for a spark of inspiration. For a reason to keep going. A purpose. Now he has one, and he’s going to cling to it like life itself.
He feels lighter, as if the cloud that’s been following him since Jerme died has lifted. He must capture the moment and name it. Then he’ll pour himself into a strategic plan. Petition NHOS for funding. Build a team.
But what will he call it? A name. He needs a name. What would express the sentiment of his mission? He thinks back to Jerme’s lover, 3Zeez, who never gave his brother a choice about his fate. Without a word, she left him with his love and heartbreak.
Then it’s on the tip of his tongue. He stands staring determinedly at the spot. “The company will be called CHOICElover, Jerme, and it will be my dedication to you.”
He unwraps the poppy, kneels, and places it on the concrete, the vibrant red a shock against the cool gray. Within moments, the rain dissolves the dried petals, and all that is left on the pavement is a smear of red. If that had happened last year, it might have tipped him over the precipice, allowing his grief to take hold, but not today. Somehow, watching the flower melt away in the rain feels right. Like an ending and a beginning all at once.
