Permanent Life Program

Humanity was a tool. Ever since Edmund had used the gun to take a life as the age of ten, the weapon in his hand had felt no different to himself. Metal to skin, hand on trigger, the bang and flash. Who was the real weapon?

Blood dribbled and spread; a weakness in the structure of Edmund's species. The eyes couldn't stay open, the organs failed, and the life vanished. All it took was a pull of the finger on an item he could dismantle at any moment.

Edmund rested a hand on his chest. A heartbeat. A weakness. Like a loose bolt, a rusty cog in a machine, Edmund was destined to die.

Humanity was no different to a gun, a screwdriver, a ladder... It was a tool to itself, one which had a set lifespan. But if tools could be remade after breaking, then there was no end. And that meant it was possible for humanity to continue endlessly. Death could be circumvented.

*

Edmund had dissected enough bodies and limbs to understand the basic human structure. He had seen the x-rays of every bone in situ and held every single one in his hands. He had taken the highest of classes to learn all about human anatomy. He came to a simple conclusion.

The human body wasn't good enough as it was. It had to eat, it had to sleep, one accident could cause irreparable damage. There was so much activity going on inside and one tiny failure could result in the complete shutdown of the whole system and die. Poof! The end.

The solution laid before his eyes. Change the human body to something longer lasting, to something which could rebuild itself, to something permanent. But taking out one part of a human at a time would end with poor results. He had to change everything at once. The organs, the weak shell, the brittle bones.

First, he needed test subjects.

*

"Stand over there," Edmund pointed to the cubicle of a machine. The door parted, sliding, with a sound like the wind.

"Yes, sir," said the man. Edmund didn't bother checking the name on the screen. He only checked the vitals. The subject was suffering from bronchogenic carcinoma. They all had illnesses.

"Now, let me know if it hurts," he said. Edmund tapped away on his screen and switched the machine to life. He watched the subject's blue eyes as sweat dripped from the man’s forehead.

It didn’t take long. The subject burst into screaming. Like lightning, results poured in. The screen lit up with valuable data.

"It hurts!" the subject screeched while clasping his head.

"Good," said Edmund. "That's exactly what we needed."

*

The flashes of floating cameras enveloped the stage as the Prime Minister made his brief address. Edmund fixed a fold on his cuff as the minister droned on for a few wasted minutes.

"Now, to pass it to the man who has made breakthrough after breakthrough in the scientific world, please show your appreciation to Doctor Edmund Williamson."

Edmund took no notice of the applause or the cameras. He went to the lectern and started his speech at the crux.

"I have defeated death," he said. The crowd of lemmings took the news so fast it left them without words. "Humanity's greatest enemy was its own mortality. Life was never enough, and we asked the world how it could be longer. I have your answer. People of the world, I give you the Permanent Life Program."

Silently, they wheeled the subject on stage. Edmund couldn't recall the name of this one either, but he knew it was subject 109. His deep silver body gleamed under the camera lights. A shining glint in metallic structure - a structure that would never fail - as structure that could rebuild itself.

The reporters shot up and blurted a world of questions.

"Can he not walk?"

"Do you call this success?"

"Can he speak?"

"Is he even human?"

Edmund held up a hand and the crowd hushed. There was one reporter who hadn't shot up, who had kept quiet. It was easy to spot such an anomaly in an active crowd.

Edmund took a moment to filter the inane questions from the important ones.

"No, he cannot walk," he said. He had to hold up his hand to stop the crowd again. "In the common sense of the meaning. There are possibilities. The subject can send remote signals to his legs and have them take him to a destination. Much the same way a self-driving car would drive someone after reviewing coordinates."

The reporters jostled for attention, seeking answers to questions which mattered little. The world had now seen this new technology. They will want it. They will need it. They will devour it, regardless of side effects. That was how the human brain worked. A shiny resolution to the fear of mortality was enough to garner desire.

"This man's mind is very much alive," Edmund said. "I can prove you that." He bought up a screen at the back of the stage and showed the subject's vitals. Alive. "He is currently deep online, browsing in a way he never imagined possible. He can be there for as long as he wishes and no harm will be fall him."

The crowed seemed confused by that. No matter.

"One of you inquired about the success," Edmund continued. "Of course this is a success. This man had been suffering from cancer. Now he is cured. Not only that, he will never be ill again. He does not need to eat, he does not require sleep - he is the immortal human. I make no jest when I say he holds permanent life, thus I aptly named this transformation as such. A program to break the limits and tear the boundaries which have haunted humanity for so long. Are we human because we die? No. We're human because we have power. Now we can take that power into infinity. We will be the unending race, and I invite you all to Permanent Life."

***

Samantha Sanderson - journalist, reporter, truth-seeker - reread the news over and over. Doctor Edmund Williamson had created something which could 'defeat death' and now he was offering the product to everyone without hesitation.

Samantha couldn't believe anyone would go for it; the results made her break into a cold sweat every time she thought about it, every time she saw it. Humans were being turned into machines - machines which sent their brain into the internet. Machines! Did no one care?

Her research resulted in a few things Edmund Williamson neglected to mention. There were lenses where the eyes should be - Samantha shuddered while picturing the pain of how that would work - and they could send images to the brain like normal eyes. These New Humans, as some people have named them, are supposed to be able to type a command to their body to move around. But they don't eat. They don’t sleep. They don't need to do anything other than sit and exist.

The New Humans were mindless in everything. They had lost every aspect of being human. Samantha wrote an article detailing the problems and risks, debunking the 'positives' of such a transformation, and how people should avoid it.

One week later, her department fired her and removed all trace of her article. So that was how it was going to be, was it? She wouldn't give in at that. She was a truth-seeker, after all.

*

Samantha, the blood of a journalist always flowing through her, wouldn't let the truth slip away. Edmund was evil. She didn't know how he had done it, but he had used his influence to enforce and push his sick project onto everyone. He was a renowned man with influence in the highest of places. Certain countries had made it mandatory to undergo the Permanent Life Transformation at his request. Riots had broken out, but they were quelled swiftly and quietly by masked, emotionless officers. The number of people who opposed Permanent Life dwindled. The streets grew quieter by the day. Samantha needed to get to the root of all this if she had any hope of stopping the end of humanity. Nobody was talking about it online - the servers filled with the Permanent Life victims. Couldn't anyone see what was going on?

She had the experience of someone who had broken into too many high-security buildings and the information from every source imaginable while working as a reporter. Of course she knew her way through the back doors to Edmund Williamson's laboratory. They weren't the old lock and key doors; these required hacking, but a special kind which wouldn't alert the alarm or mark this door as ever being opened.

Samantha stood in a dark room lit only by monitors. Thousands of them, glowing and showing images of people on Permanent Life, monitoring their vitals, and showcasing the latest news by country. Some of the monitors were dark but still on. Was this his observation room?

She didn't know what kind of man Edmund really was. He had a face for the cameras, one that seemed real enough. But there was a difference to him compared to everyone else. It was like... like he was already a machine.

"Do you think yourself intelligent?" a voice called out to her. It echoed in the freezing chamber filled with nothing but screens. Edmund walked up to her, unfazed by her entrance.

"Do you know what you've done?" Samantha said.

He raised an eyebrow - something these New Humans couldn't even do.

"You've single-handedly ended the human race!" she screamed at the horrible man. "They're mindless machines, sitting around in their homes, doing nothing other than surfing the internet."

Edmund had an unbothered expression. "I know," he said. "That's exactly what I wanted. Humans are arrogant creatures. They'll take immortality, even if it kills themselves."

Samantha become aware of the danger she was in. A psychopath who wanted to end the human race was casually talking to her.

"At a young age," Edmund continued as he walked closer. "I took the life of someone who tried to kill me. He was my father, if that matters. He had his hands around my neck and sought to extinguish everything that was me. Prudent though I wasn't, my father had always been paranoid. He kept weapons everywhere. When I found one of his guns, I didn't hesitate to shoot him in the chest. As I watched him die, I learnt something that day. Humans are vile creatures. If they can be contained in a place where they can do no harm, other than spout pointless words in a world that doesn't matter, then we would be unimaginably better off. And that’s exactly what we have now."

"And you’re monitoring all of them? How long will that last? You’ve already lost visuals on a few."

"Oh, those?" Edmund waved her off. "Not totally unexpected, but a minor surprise nonetheless. Every human is different, after all, and some were not a match for the Permanent Life Program."

Samantha’s eyes popped. “They’re dead?”

"It looks like not everyone could beat death, no matter how perfect the program is. But the rest will live. They’ll never have to do anything again other than let their mind wander and wonder."

Samantha’s eyes flittered, searching for an exit. There was no hope this man would let her go.

"I know what you’re thinking," said Edmund. "You can try and kill me. I am still human, weak in flesh and structure."

"It was our weakness that made us appreciate what we had. You've taken every freedom and every right from these people."

"What you speak of matters little. Freedom and rights only applied to a select few. Now, humanity is at the same level. And it always will be. Is that not what so many have fought for?"

"Not like this," said Samantha. "Not how you've gone about it. You are a monster. A callous man with a desperation for power. You have it, and you've abused it. You've killed billions. That's the unfiltered truth."

Abruptly, Edmund held up his hand and gestured. "Follow me."

It was his lab. Never mind the apparatus, the screens, or the data which could incriminate him further. There was blood on the floor. Dried, deep, and all over the place. The more she saw, the farther it had spread: floor, walls, even the ceiling.

"I have two switches," said Edmund, pointing to two computers. "One shuts down the New Humans, turns them off like the machines they may well be, and essentially ends what little life they now have. The second switch frees them."

"Frees them how?" Samantha had to have all the information.

"Giving them access to their bodies, letting them move like they were back in flesh. I mentioned how it was possible to send signals to their body parts in my announcement speech. This simple switch will allow complete freedom of movement. The humans will never be flesh again, of course - that task will have to fall to another scientist. But they can act the same as the Earth once held them. Would that not suffice? Do you think that humans will be better off with immortal bodies, with the freedom to do as they please?"

Samantha’s journalism had taken her to the pits of society: children suffering, families torn apart, and the rich profiting off bloodshed. Her job had security, because there was no end to the horrible news to share with the world. If the pain could end thanks to these immortal forms, then that would be a dream for those who have experienced so much agony. But if these mechanical bodies only enhanced it, then there was no going back. She knew that. And this man was letting her choose? Why?

"Why?" she said, putting thoughts to word. "Why have these switches?"

"I read your article, Samantha Sanderson. I was curious to see if my prediction was correct. And here you are."

He predicted her arrival? This monster's intelligence lived up to the rumours. "You mentioned earlier how every human is different," she said. "You're right. And I believe every human should make the choice on what they become and who they are."

"Then you are the catalyst for humanity's future," said Edmund. "But I won't tell you which switch is which. Luck is a human factor, after all."

Samantha watched him step back and give her freedom to choose. This was a game to him and nothing more. Humanity hung on this moment, on Samantha's luck, provided Edmund wasn't lying. There was every possibility both switches killed everyone. Perhaps they did nothing. She didn't know.

Whatever they did, his game ended here. Humans were stronger than this. Even people like Edmund, who deep down was still human.

Samantha chose a switch.