The Upload

Calihan never knew death until he stroked its hand, tucked its hair behind its ear, wiped the tears off its gaunt face. He’d never seen anyone look so dead, like hanging onto life like a frayed rope, a single strand suspending her above the afterlife. Dipping her toes in, saying, hey, this is what it would be like if you just gave in.

‘Hey, Cal,’ Chani croaked, her pasty lips pulling into a smile. ‘How are you?’

Calihan’s heart sank, like it did every time he visited his girlfriend. Her eyes seemed vacant and watery, devoid of the fire of passion that he had fallen in love with. Her skin –once full and glowing –hung like a leather sack over her bones, scaly and fragile. Wispy tufts of hair peeked out from under a green knitted beanie her late mum had gifted her seven years ago.

‘That’s not important right now,’ Calihan whispered, perching on the edge of her bed. ‘How are you?’

Chani closed her eyes, savouring the gentle sun on her face from the hospital window. ‘You know I love you, Cal.’ She said. ‘I can’t talk about me right now. Tell me about you. I want to listen.’

Chani was the sort of person who never let her pain show, stuffing it through tasks and distractions until the emotion ran dry. But spending her days in the hospital bed with the smell of sanitiser and vomit purging her nostrils made it hard to focus on anything else.

‘Well, I went to work today,’ he began gently. ‘I took the train. Saw this wonderful house on the way –white house, wooden picket fence, two stories. I could almost see us living there in the future. We could put a swing out back, and the fence can keep the dogs in –’

‘Cal, no.’

Calihan froze. ‘What?’

Chani coughed, her fail body like a ragdoll subject to a toddler’s curious wrath. ‘Please, no. I’m not making it out of here, Cal. We’re not having the three kids and the white picket fence like we always wanted. It’s over. You need to move on with your life when I’m gone.’

Calihan felt a lump swelling in his throat. ‘Don’t say that,’ he growled. ‘You’re going to beat this. And you didn’t let me finish telling you about my day. I got paid today, and I finally have enough money.’

‘For what?’

‘For the EternalLife program. We can do it, Chani. We can upload you.’

Chani’s eyes drifted listlessly across Calihan’s face. ‘No, Cal. I’ve told you before. I don’t want that.’

‘No, but before it was because of the money, right? I have enough money. It won’t put me into debt. We can do it. It doesn’t have to end this way.’

Chani offered a watery smile. ‘This is how I want it to end. You’re by my side, that’s all I ever wanted. I don’t want to be confined to the Cloud for the rest of my existence. I want to live, Cal. I want to have a body. I want to watch the sunset, feel the cool breeze on my skin. I don’t want to just exist anymore. I hope you understand that.’

Tears prickled Calihan’s eyes. ‘No, no, no,’ he whispered, plunging his face into her blanket. Breathing in her scent, but detergent stung his nostrils. ‘We can save you.’

Chani gently stroked his hair. ‘Being here with you,’ she whispered. ‘Is all the saving I need.’ She rested her limp arm over his shoulders and gently closed her eyes as Calihan wept into her pillows.

Calihan awoke, dazed and groggy. His face was dry and tearstained, and Chani’s arm was still draped across his shoulders. Her face was frozen and her slow breaths whistled in and out of her nostrils. He’d made up his mind, while she comforted him. He knew what he had to do.

Calihan knew his girlfriend. He knew she’d reject the idea of being uploaded. He didn’t tell her he’d already bought the device. It was a small, sophisticated machine, with a drive that connected to two extending pads that were to be attached to either side of the head. The cancer had taken Chani’s hair, leaving a smooth, bald scalp, perfect for the sticky pads to grasp hold of. Carefully, Calihan pressed the pads to her temples, switched on the machine, and pressed start.

Chani awoke as a blinking light on Calihan’s laptop. Her body was still in the hospital –unconscious, a vegetative state now that Calihan had stolen her consciousness. He designed her onscreen body with gorgeous tanned skin, long, shiny brown hair and her vibrant blue eyes that had since lost their colour. He gave her character a long, flowing blue sundress paired with a blue gemstone necklace.

Suddenly, Chani moved. Her blue eyes widened, and her mouth opened, but no breath came in or out. She glanced up and saw Calihan through his computer camera. And then she screamed.

‘What did you do?!’ She yelled, her pixelated form stomping its foot. Her cheeks turned rosy red in little circles, like cartoons on T.V.

‘I’m sorry, Chani,’ Calihan said. ‘I couldn’t let you go. You mean too much to me.’

Chani shook her head incredulously. Furiously. ‘How could you do this to me?’

‘Please, Chani. I can’t live without you.’ Calihan whimpered, and Chani softened. ‘How do you feel?’

Chani glanced down at her hands, her dress, and her hair. ‘I don’t feel anything,’ she mumbled. Somehow, her voice sounded soft, synthetic. Not like when she was sick. But not like when she was alive. ‘I don’t even feel my body. I’m just… here.’

Suddenly, text began unfolding on the screen. Chani glanced up, as if she could see it.

Welcome, Chani. You have been uploaded to the EternalLife program. You are not dead, nor are you living. You are safe. You are data. And you are forever. How about you look around?

‘It won’t be forever,’ Calihan quickly clarified. ‘Just until I can let go.’

Chani stared at him with scepticism in her eyes. ‘Better not be,’ she muttered, before vanishing into Calihan’s computer.

For the next few months, Calihan felt his grief dissolve. On his laptop, Chani was never tired or sick. She never leaned over his shoulder to vomit out flecks of blood and then melted back into her mattress, her body drained and exhausted. He opened his laptop every night and video called the virtual Chani, with the body he had designed, the face of the woman he loved. It was perfect.

Almost.

‘Are you done with me?’ Chani asked after every video call. ‘I’m ready to go.’

‘Not yet,’ Calihan responded. ‘Soon.’

It was a painful lie. Calihan knew he’d keep Chani around for as long as he could. He’d already purchased the ‘Eternity’ package from EternalLife which would prevent Chani from ever being deleted. He knew she’d hate him for it. But Calihan couldn’t bare the thought of being without her. Every day he plunged deeper into guilt for something he hadn’t done, but knew he would. But it was worth it if Chani stayed with him. Her physical body was long gone, she had no family. It was only him.

‘How was your day?’ Calihan always asked on the call, knowing well that Chani had little concept of night and day. She could turn her world dark, glistening with twinkling pixelated stars, or bright, with fluffy clouds and a radiant sun on her command.

‘Day?’ Chani questioned. She always appeared well-groomed on the screen, despite sounding as if she’d just woken up every time he talked to her. ‘Oh, since you were here last. Fine, really. The same. Only so much that can happen.’

‘What did you get up to?’

Chani stared blankly. ‘Nothing. And everything at once.’ She glanced down, her mouth opening in a sigh that never escaped her lips. ‘I’m done, Cal. Everything’s the same. I asked for dogs and they’re all perfect and I asked for snow and it was white and powdery. But I can’t touch anything. I can’t feel anything. The snow is the same as the water and the dogs’ fur –nothing. My body can touch it. But I never feel it. Please, let me go.’

Calihan held a small box up to his computer camera. ‘Hold on, Chani. For me. Please.’ He gently wedged it open, revealing a golden ring with a glistening blue diamond sitting on top. Then he edited Chani’s avatar, adding the ring onto her finger. She glanced down at it, her face flickering.

‘Cal, I –’

‘No. Chani, I need to tell you something. Please, just listen.’ Chani fell silent. ‘I want you with me. Always. Forever. So I –uh, I’m upgrading your EternalLife package. It’s permanent.’

‘Cal, no. Don’t.’ Chani’s voice was incapable of expressing anger. But her fluffy brows were pulled vehemently together, her teeth clenched in her mouth. ‘Please. You can’t do this to me.’

‘I’m sorry. I can’t do it without you. It’s better this way, trust me.’

‘No!’ Calihan felt her voice through the speakers on his laptop. ‘Calihan. I can’t do this anymore. There’s nothing left for me. It’s not real here. Nothing changes. I want real. I want pain. My mind is eating me up alive and every second feels like an hour. My thoughts are digital and can be delivered in an instant so much so that my mind is quiet and all I’m doing is waiting for the relief of death. Of being purged from this damned Cloud that holds my consciousness. You’re not doing this for me, Cal. You’re doing this to me.’

Calihan sniffed. He knew she’d react strongly to being held in the cloud forever. But he couldn’t –couldn’t let her go. She was too important to him.

‘I’m sorry, Chani. It’s already done.’

‘Please, Calihan. You don’t understand. I don’t feel anything. This digital prison you’ve got me trapped is like eternal limbo, and it’s killing me from the inside. You can’t play death like this. I’m already gone. You just can’t accept it.’

Calihan felt his blood boil. ‘I’m doing this for us. For our future. For the three kids and the dogs with the swing in the backyard we always wanted. We can still have it.’

‘No, we can’t. I’m dead. Let me be dead. Stop trying to hold onto the little of me there is left. I can’t do it anymore. Nothing’s real here. It’s all fabricated; an illusion of code. I don’t have a body. I can’t breathe, I can’t feel. I can’t even speak. This isn’t even my voice you’re hearing. It’s the computer voicing my thoughts. Let me go.’

‘I can’t do that.’

Chani’s digital form blinked into darkness as Calihan slammed his laptop shut.

There was a sort of peace, knowing Chani was still alive, somewhere. Even if her physical body was deep beneath the ground and her mind was made of code. She was there. She was alive. And she’d be there for as long as he lived. It connected him. The rope between them –the rope that dangled Chani above death that tugged her towards it –had been turned digital, a string of ones and zeros that held them together.

Calihan glanced at the ring on his nightstand, the digital version on Chani’s finger. She wasn’t beside him in bed, but she was nearby, inside his warm, humming laptop on his desk.

When Calihan was lonely, he glanced at his laptop and watched the fan try and cool the device down. And suddenly he felt less alone, because the heat was Chani, her digital self still managing to mark the physical world.