The Iron Cradle

“Oh god, oh god, please be okay, honey,” a voice echoed in the distance. It sounded so close, so familiar. Was it really distant?

“Im sure he’ll pull through; he’s a strong one, you know that,” another distant voice spoke.

These voices approached closer toward the small, expanding bead of light surrounded by a sea of darkness.

“He’ll come back to us… I know it.”

* * *

Lucas Moore, a young man 20 years of age, was attached to a life-support system in a musty, rundown mid-western hospital. Wires and tubes ran from all parts of his body to various machines. EKGs, feeding tubes, the works. It was like something out of a science fiction story, but here, in reality, these machines are quite modern. His parents, Patrica & Carl Moore, waited with him, day and night, hoping that he would wake up. It’s been three weeks now with no hope for recovery. Doctors held little hope for Lucas. Through their tears, and pleads, and prayers, only an echo rang through to him. He could hear them but, in his condition, was unable to answer. What often can be reached beyond any scientific advancements in the limitless expanses of faith. Faith can reach into the darkness and extract things that seemed impossible to ascertain—a truly majestic and magnetic force. Lucas’ family knew, somewhere he could hear them calling to him. Here and now, it’s being tested more than ever before.

Approaching dusk, Patricia held his hand with a compassionate, soft grip. She ran her thumb gently across his palm, humming a lullaby that she sang to him when he was a baby. The melody echoed to him, as voices did from before. Even in a comatose state, his sentience remained, intact and tethered to the world through his consciousness. His reality now resembled the ever-expansive realm of space, where darkness surrounded him. Only what looked like a single star shone in the distance; the voices came from there. Moving closer toward the familiar sound, he was, at the same time, being pulled back, leaving him stranded between the desire to live and the will to let go. There was no clear direction, so he remained still, waiting for an answer.

Patricia laid her head against Lucas’ hand. Her eyes ran across the tubes and wires connected to his arm to the EKG. A heartbeat that remained calm and consistent comforted her. These machines were the only things keeping him alive. It felt unnatural. A young man in this position felt even more so. Her eyes closed slowly, and she fell asleep next to him, drifting gently in hopes of finding him awake again.

The nurse making her nightly rounds stopped and looked into the doorway at the mother and her comatose son, sleeping soundly next to one another. Tiptoeing into the room, she opened the linen closet and grabbed a wool blanket. Placing the blanket softly on Patricia, she thought about her own child and the pain she must be enduring at this moment. Nothing could devastate a mother more than seeing her child in this condition. The thought emerged that releasing him from the prison would set them both free. While this thought manifested from a selfless center, her heart sunk, feeling horrible for even thinking such a thing. Why then would she have this job? It wasn’t a matter of extending the life of her patients a far as possible but to bringing comfort to those who still have somewhat of a life to live. The nurse walked toward the door and turned around for one last look at them, shutting off the light and softly shutting the door.

* * *

Patricia’s eyes opened with her head still rested on Lucas’ hand. She removed the blanket and looked around, wondering where it had come from, though she didn’t think too hard about it. She was reluctant to pry herself from his side. Just as the young nurse thought, Patrica couldn’t help but think that this reality had become a prison for both of them and their entire family. This reality feels so unnatural & inorganic. Even to be placed in this position made the whole world feel against her. Would passive euthanasia be a sin in this regard to set the poor boy’s wandering soul free from the medicinal shackles? The true test remained with her trying to remove these thoughts and think forward with faith as she’s done her entire life.

‘knock’—‘knock’—‘knock.’ A young man peeked in from the doorway. “ma’am.” Patricia looked up to see a young man standing in the door, not much older than her son. He was wearing a white lab coat, holding a clipboard — the quintessential example of a young doctor fresh out of medical school. There’s a lot on his plate for such a young man; the amount of pressure kept Patricia’s gaze compassionate toward him. She knew it wasn’t the young man’s fault that her son was in this position but still hoped his prodigiousness would grant him some unique ability to remove him from this state. But again, the dream does not overcome reality.

The young doctor walked into the room. “We..wee uh, have to run some tests now but feel free to come back later.” He said.

Patricia stood up, kissed her son’s hand, and left the room without another word.

* * *

"This new technology is said to be revolutionary in the ability to prolong the human life. Human consciousness has been made transferable…." Patricia woke up, hearing a voice from the other room. It sounded like it was coming from the TV. She got up slowly and ambled to the other room to see her husband Carl and her other younger son, Marty watching the news channel.

Carl ran over to the staircase and grabbed Patrica's hand. "Honey.. you need to see this,"

The reporter began the interview, sitting across from a lanky, frizzy-haired man, looking to be around his mid-40's. "So, doctor Roger Sterling, you and your colleagues are said to have developed a way to, what you call, "transfer consciousness."

"In layman terms, yes. The participant will have the ability to retain themselves, who they were before but have their 'minds' transferred into a partially organic host body that we've manufactured."

"Partially organic?" the reporter inquired.

"Yes, yes, as I said, we've manufactured these new bodies, but they will have the ability to develop new neural pathways, the ability to learn new things, though will contain the personality and ideally the wholeness of the ego that is transferred into them."

"This is just quite fascinating sir, when will you expect this technology to be available?"

"Like anything, we'll need willing participants for trials."

"We've tested this technology on various animals. We can see if transference was successful by testing the animals' brain waves and neural pathways. It isn't easy to understand this process completely on animals because their consciousness does not resemble ours in complexity. We now believe those with higher functions; human beings are now ready for such a feat."

Sterling's eyes glowed with certainty, a certainty that caused Patrica and her family to move right to the edge of their seats. They all thought that Lucas would be an excellent Participant in such trials. Patricia and Carl looked at each other and didn't say anything for a few moments. Their eyes sparkled with a fraction of hope that perhaps their son could be taken out of his state and returned to them. But at what cost. This entire procedure seems quite abnormal. They wondered if it was safe, would Lucas still be himself.

'click' the Tv was switched off, leaving the family to sit together in the living room. They were pondering over this awe-inspiring reality that had just come over them. While believing everything on TV isn't the best thing, this didn't seem like another infomercial selling your a 'New great product.' There seems to be some truth behind it, or it felt like it to the desperate.

"Should we look into this" Carl asked. They were silent for a moment. Each looked around at each other, nervous about speaking on the subject.

"Im sure he'll come out of it; he's strong, you know that," Patricia ensured them.

"Patty, we need to look at the reality here baby, it's been over a month now. People rarely make it out of these comas after a few weeks."

Her heart sunk, and blood began to boil. She felt that the only one to stick by her son until the end of recovery would be her. Regardless of her undying faith, it seems that she couldn't help but think that this procedure, if that's what this could be called, to begin with, could work.

"Should we wait?" Patricia asked.

"You know, after these trials, the prices will be astronomical. If we make the decision, we should do it now. We don't have anything to lose and everything to gain… right?"

"We need to sleep on this.."

* * *

The only thing on Patrica’s mind while driving back to the hospital was this procedure. Would it hurt him? What are these bodies that they are talking about? Is this even right? These things never seem to ask until after everything goes wrong, and she had always been smart enough to understand that. But the fascination with the unknown, the question of maybe this may change the very nature of our existence in such a way that it surpasses everything else we’ve achieved as humans. And, well, of course, we should try right. To add another page in the history book. When we look back, should we either become struck with awe or disgust — either way, humans love to poke at things to see how they work.

Her thoughts were racing, back and forth between this desire for her son and the right thing to do, which would be to let him go. Carl was right; he had been in that condition for so long the reality is that there is very little chance he would make it. She hated to think this way. ‘Stay positive’ & ‘Keep the faith’ is what she lived by, but it’s difficult this time.

Arriving at the hospital, she was a bit reluctant to go upstairs. A flood of conflicting emotions and discordant thoughts overwhelmed her. She just wanted Lucas, her baby boy, back in her arms. It’s never that easy. Memories of them surged through her mind. He had always been a very good boy, at least with her. Their connection ran deeper than that with his father. Lucas always ran to mom for anything. She was fair and compassionate, disciplined when necessary.

Patricia approached the front desk. “Hello, Im here to see my son, Lucas.”

“Yes, ma’am, 210 you can head up.”

She walked quickly upstairs, skipping the elevator toward room 210. Approaching the doorway, she heard chatter from the room. Opening the door, there stood doctor Roger Sterling, with the young doctor from before.

“Ahhh, hello, uh, Patrica, right?” Sterling asked.

“You’re not his doctor; what are you..”

“Im sorry,” the young doctor apologized. “I thought it would be ok if Mr. Uh, Dr. Sterling, could examine the patient. He had some news for you if you’d like to hear him out.” The young doctor pleaded.

Patrica glared at both Sterling and the young doctor “yeah, we saw you on the news; how did you know our son was here.” However, this may be their ticket to bring him back.

“Yeah, I have my connections to all the hospitals in the area, but this young man here contacted me. I used to study comatose before developing my program.”

“I thought he may be able to help, ma’am,” the young doctor attested.

His naivety bothered her, but Patrica knew his sentiments were good. That was his job, after all, to cure the ill. But this, this wasn’t a cure. This was sacrilege. A contemporary Frankenstein in a sense. This was closer to madness than to noble action. This possibility caused dissonance and conflicting emotions within her.

“Here’s my card, call me anytime, but just to let you know, we would like to decide our trial participants as soon as possible. We have limited materials and limited space. After that, this process may or may not be available for everyone until we find proper funding. We hope to make it available through a philanthropic gesture, but you know how it is. Goodbye, madam.” Sterling walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Patricia stood, silent. The chance to have her boy back in her arms, back in the family, was here. But having delivered an ultimatum made her all the more conflicted. They looked down at the card. It only said ‘STERLING’ in silver lettering on one side. On the other was a phone number. Her palms began to sweat, and her hands began to shake with anticipation. Tears started to form in her eyes though she tried hard to push them back. Unlike most women in her family, she was reluctant to express outward emotion. Still, she never internalized it either. She lived quite rational and took things as they came, perhaps appearing dispassionate toward some. Rather, she felt her disposition was more adaptable and made clear decisions when needed by relying on faith. But now more than ever, she couldn’t seem to make this decision. Her faith has been tested more than ever.

* * *

The family seemed much less reluctant to make this decision. Carl always put his trust into what others told him. He was receptive to the snake oil salesman, confident that “this time it will work, I just know it.” — “He seems like an honest guy” — “what’s the harm.” Sometimes this attitude was more than a simple annoyance. It became dangerous in this instance. Humans’ complacent, habitual nature can become a folly in many more contexts than just this one. But here, again, Carl always said the same thing he always did.

“We have nothing to lose and everything to gain, sweetheart,” Carl uttered these words many times before. This time these words rang with indignity and disregard for the imminent possibilities.

“What do you say?” Carl asked.

Patrica sighed, pausing in fear of what her decision might bring. She knew there wasn’t much time to decide before the trial would take place.“We can’t let him rot,” Patrica sobbed, her eyes pinned fiercely to the ground.

She stood up and looked at her family. “I’ll give him a call in the morning.”

Walking upstairs, Patrica looked at the family pictures lining the stairway wall. Lucas is smiling, without a care in the world, only now strapped to machines. A tear fell from her eye as she decided to proceed with the procedure. If there was even a chance she could see him again, it was worth a try.

* * *

‘Click’ — “Hello?”

“Dr. Sterling?”

“Ahhh, yes, how are you today?” Sterling answered in his distinct Germanic accent.

“Im doing alright. I spoke with the family last night, and I think we made our decision.” Patrica answered in a shaky voice.

“That’s great to hear. That’s good timing! If you would like, you can meet me at the hospital and get this going!” he said enthusiastically.

Patrica’s hung up. Both excited and terrified, she sped to the hospital to release Lucas into the care of this stranger. People look up to him like something more than a doctor. But most trusted him. Sterling was more of a revolutionary — someone who could change the very fabric of existence with just a wave of his hand.

Patrica’s rushed upstairs, bumping into a flood of nurses and doctors in the hallway. As she approached the door, she inhaled deeply, her hand shook. Opening the door again, Dr. Sterling was there, moved above her incapacitated son.

“Should we get going?” Sterling spoke confidently.

Of course, as any mother would, Patrica was having second thoughts. All she could think about was her little boy wanting nothing more but to see him again and nothing more than to see him live.

Her voice shook. “Y-yes.”

Sterling pulled out his phone, and within a few minutes, several men came in with a stretcher.

“We’ll be transferring him to our facility. We do need you to come with us.”

“When we arrive, we will need to create a replication of his body. This facility serves a dual purpose.”

“O-Ok,” Patrica muttered.

A large black van with tinted windows pulled up in the parking lot. A man got out and opened the door, where Lucas was lifted into the vehicle.

“You’ll need to ride with us.” A man dressed in a black suit commanded.

Patrica’s climbed into the van. It wasn’t easy to see outside, but they began to move. Sterling looks over at her. Naturally, he was please with her decision.

“Well, be there soon.”

* * *

The van stopped. Patrica’s eyes opened slowly with the van’s door being opened outside. Stepping outside, she couldn’t recognize the area. Much to her surprise, she looked up to see a large concrete building with no towering above her. The building was settled in an area of cleared forest. She pulled out her phone to see no signal. This place resembled a factory more than a hospital.

“This way,” a man guided her along with the starcher through a large metal door. She stared at the guards standing at the gates, whose complexions were entirely blank and almost robotic. She wondered why a medical facility would need armed guards.

Sterling noticed her curiosity. “We have to protect our interests, ma’am. This is, as you know, an experimental procedure at this time.” We also have a large manufacturing base. New bodies, if you will be explicitly made to the necessary specifications.”

This all seemed so strange to her. She remained silent for the moment as she followed them through the large door. Men in lab coats were walking up, and down the hallways, similar to the hospital she was just in. Along the hallway ran a large glass window, allowing her to see into the manufacturing facility. What looked like metallic skeletons were being transported to various locations. Sparks flew in each direction as a group of men was welding together the metal bodies.

Sterling pointed to a table covered in metal appendages. “That one there. That one will be your boy.”

Looking intensely at the table, she saw the metallic skeleton fused together. Is this whats the world has come to? Have we reached the pinnacle of immortality? Have we finally reached the point that all civilizations have tried to reach? There must be some catch to this seemingly perfect reality.

His body was placed into a large vat, where skin materialized around it. Slowly the image of Lucas was brought to life.

* * *

He could feel his life fore being slowly pulled closer and closer toward the bead of light from beyond. Muffled voices were heard conversing. Again he couldn’t understand who they were or what was being said. Lucas’ body was placed next to his new one. Wires were again being run from one body to another. She wanted nothing more than to see her boy again, while here he was in the same position. Shed only hoped that this time it would work. She just wanted it to be over.

A force of resistance kept Lucas from converging into the bead of light. He didn’t know why. Even in his state, he was fighting this unnatural procedure from beyond. His conscious mind was almost rejecting this new body being forced upon him. It seemed Lucas wanted only to return to his natural state or not at all. Regardless, he was forced toward the light. It became brighter and brighter, and the voices became clearer. Before he knew it, the darkness had been enveloped in a sea of light. In an instant, he was alive again.

* * *

Lucas’ message in his new form opened his eyes. The old body lay lifeless, a husk. Not even the slightest resurgence of life remained without hesitation; the crew drug the old body away, out of the room. Sterling and Patrica walked into the room where Lucas lay wide-eyed a still.

Sterling looked at Patrica. “Give him a few minutes.” He said.

The braces that kept him secured were released from his arms, legs, and chest though he remained still. Sterling, Patrica, and the rest of the crew stood at a distance waiting for him to do something. After a few moments, he blinked. His eyes began scanning the area.

“Honey.” Patrica said, “Are you in there?”

Lucas had lifted up his arm and began to examine it. He wondered where he was now though he couldn’t articulate the thought. While everything looked the same, it didn’t feel like his body. It felt distant almost and still trapped in an unnatural state. His nerves began to connect. Impulses surged through his new body as he could feel each part of his body reconnecting itself. Slowly the human awareness seeped in, and emotion began to settle. Each emotion surged simultaneously through him. On the outside, he remained cold and static. This new body had to relearn how to live. But its inorganic compounds collided with what he was used to feeling. Was this even Lucas? While his conscious mind had been transferred successfully, what determined success here? Is it the successful transfer of his consciousness to this mechanical hub? What is the success if it is not him, the boy his mother Patrica wanted to see again so severely?

The bed Lucas was lay on lifted him upright. Lucas rose from his iron cradle to join the rest of the world. With open eyes, rarely blinking, and static disposition, nothing resembled him but the exterior. Patrica stood next to him, waiting for some reaction from her.

She grabbed his hand “honey? It’s me.” A tear formed in her eye as a rage built inside of her. Looking over at Sterling, “You said it would work!” She yelled.

Looking back at her with a cold disposition, “I didn’t actually. Though he is alive right, it may take him a while to adjust.”

Patrica looked at Lucas or this thing that resembled him. He stared blankly at her as if the woman before him was a stranger.

Perhaps Patrica should have kept her faith. Thinking about the conversation with the family, they went through all the possible issues and still went through with it. The desire overcame the principle.

To be continued….