Free PDF Download We Are Legion (We Are Bob)
1. Bob Version 1.0
“So… You’ll cut my head off.” I raised an eyebrow at the
salescritter. I was baiting him. I knew it, he knew it, I knew he
knew it.
He grinned at me, happy to go along with the routine as
long as me and my wallet continued to pay attention. “Mr.
Johansson—”
“It’s Bob. Please. You’re not talking to my father.”
The CryoEterna sales rep—the nametag identified him as
Kevin—nodded and gestured toward the big placard, which
displayed the cryonics process in ghoulish detail. I took a
moment to note his Armani suit and hundred-dollar haircut. It
appeared there was money in Cryonics.
“Bob, there’s no point in freezing the entire body.
Remember, the idea is to wait for advancements in medicine to
be able to cure whatever killed you. By the time they can
resuscitate your corpse, they’ll likely be able to grow you a
whole new body. That would be easier, in fact, than trying to
patch up the old one.”
That’s just insane enough to be true. “All right, Kevin,
I’m sold.” I looked down at the papers he’d set out in front of
me. “Ten thousand deposit, annual payments, insurance…”
Kevin stood patiently, letting me scan the information without
interruption. I might be drunk with my newfound wealth, but
almost a decade as an engineer and a business owner wouldn’t
let me do anything without checking all the documentation.
Finally, I was satisfied. I signed the paperwork, wrote a
cheque, and shook hands with Kevin.
“You are now a client of CryoEterna Inc.” he said,
handing me a card. “Keep this in your wallet at all times. In
case of death, we will be contacted. Once death has been
pronounced, we will—”
“—behead me.”
“Yup. And freeze your head, pending medical advances
sufficient to bring you back. The guidelines for setting up a
Trust are in your information package.” Kevin handed me a
thick, bright blue folder with a barely visible cloud pattern,
and the corporate logo emblazoned on the front. “We’ll have
the formal documents printed up and mailed to your home
address. And welcome to CryoEterna.” With that, he stuck out
his hand and we shook again.
I did a little skip-step as I left the CryoEterna office. The
Trust had already been set up, but I didn’t want Kevin to know
I had decided to sign up before I even walked into the office.
No point in making his job too easy. I couldn’t decide if this
was a canny investment in my future or a mind-blowingly
stupid waste of money. Well, what the hell. The sum that
Terasoft was paying me for my software company ensured
financial stability for the rest of my life—and now, beyond.
Not to mention a significant upgrade in my lifestyle. I’d
been attending The Vortex SF convention every year since they
first started up in Las Vegas, but this year I wasn’t part of the
riff-raff. As I walked the two blocks from the CryoEterna
offices to the convention, I pulled the VIP pass out of my
pocket and put the lanyard around my neck. This pass gave me
many extras over the standard item—access to hospitality
suites, ability to bypass line-ups for autographings, and
reserved spaces for panels, among other things. I’d also bought
a pass for Jenny—
And, there it was. I’d invoked She Who Must Not Be
Named. I stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, earning
glares from tailgaters and a muttered curse from a Jedi Knight
wannabe. I began deep-breathing to still the panic attack. This
time, it took only moments to get myself under control.
Nothing like practice, I guess. I was still having several panic
attacks per day, but that was way down from just after the
breakup. It was like having a bad tooth—you keep poking at it
with your tongue, even knowing that it’s going to hurt each
time.
With a conscious act of will, I brought my thoughts back
on track. I’d taken advantage of the VIP pass by reserving a
space in a couple of back-to-back panels, and the first one was
starting in less than fifteen minutes. Exploring the Galaxy
featured Lawrence Vienn as one of the speakers. He was a
popular and prolific science fiction author, and many of his
story concepts had helped shape the modern genre.
It took only a couple of minutes to get to the convention
center and find the seminar rooms. Con staffers had already
gotten the VIPs seated and were about to let everyone else
enter when I pulled up, panting and waving my pass. The
attendant motioned me in with no more than a glance.
I got an aisle seat by pure fluke. As I rushed into the
room, someone stood up right in front of me and turned to
walk out.
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