Ash Veisi woke up abruptly. There was no transition or segue to full awareness. Clamps securing his body in place at the shoulders unlocked and retracted into the wall as he opened his eyes. Blinking a few times, he started to float gently away from the floor in the cubby his body was standing in.
Ash's first thought was that there was an extreme absence of light. This thought seemed to trigger something, and he could start to see the outlines and shapes of things in grayscale. It almost looked like wireframe graphics.
What he saw made him want to curse, but it became evident there was no air to breathe in to curse or even sigh.
He closed his eyes and continued to float there in the vacuum and microgravity for some time in introspection.
---
Ash Veisi, whose name wasn't actually Ash, was born to a Persian father and an ex-pat British mother, both of whom loved him very much. Ash received his education in a reasonably good University in Europe; the best his family could afford, before returning home to Tehran. It was expected that he would follow in his father's footsteps and join the military, and he decided to combine his duty with a passion -- aviation. It wasn't challenging to arrange a commission in the Imperial Iranian Air Force.
The United States trained the entirety of the Iranian armed forces following US training and operational doctrine, and this was never more accurate than in the Air Force. English proficiency was a requirement of all pilots and most officers. Ash even completed a lot of his flight training inside the United States. He quite liked Americans, really, which was something he was glad he kept to himself as shortly after he became operational, his nominal Sovereign, the Shah, was run out of the country on a rail.
The newly minted junior officer of the new Islamic Republic of Iran Air Force also prudently decided to keep the fact that he was an atheist to himself, as well. This, combined with the fact that there were considerable sunk costs involved in his training, kept him from being cashiered out of the military like so many others that were insufficiently pious. For some reason, the Americans declined to train any further Iranian pilots in the F-14 aircraft Ash was qualified in.
Fortunately, his father survived the purges, but his military career did not although he was allowed to retire honourably, and his pension was paid promptly and on time.
The next few years were, to Ash's mind, a pretty good example of why clerics shouldn't run a government. The size of the Air Force was reduced by half of its pre-revolution levels, primarily in purges and forced retirements of its senior officers. Of course, the fact that the vast majority of its equipment was manufactured by a country that refused to sell it's former client state any spare parts anymore was also a contributing factor.
Ash married more because it was expected of him than out of love for any of his potential brides. Honestly, he would have been just as content to live his life alone, but needless to say, having the probable label of "lifelong bachelor" in the Islamic Republic was not conducive to a further career in government service. However, over time he did end up caring for his wife and eventual children very much.
The sudden attacks by the Iraqi's caught his government off guard, but Ash had long thought that widespread conflict with Iraq was inevitable. A good fraction of Iran's known oil reserves lay in the province bordering Iraq, after all. Persia of five years ago was an economic and military powerhouse. Ash did not feel it likely any local power would willingly enter into an existential conflict with his country, then. But, now, only a few short years later and the revolution weakened Ash's nation to the point where it became too tempting for Saddam not to invade.
The less that can be said about the first couple of years of that conflict, the better the fact that his country's military reality forced their military to utilise human wave tactics left him wanting to fly his aircraft into the Ayatollah's house during supper. Even the fucking Chinese haven't had to do that in decades. The leadership in the Air Force was tepid as well, almost entirely playing defensive and at the Iraqi's tempo. The generals were too afraid to risk irreplaceable hardware to utilise the assets they had adequately. A fleet in being never won any war that Ash was aware of, and that Naval truism held even more true for an Air Force as far as he was concerned.
Still, he achieved victories. The F-14 outclassed any Soviet fighter fielded by the enemy. Its radar was incredibly powerful, meant to be paired with the ultra-long-range Phoenix air to air missile designed to destroy targets beyond visual range of which his Air Force had nowhere near enough of. He achieved Ace and a total of six aerial victories by the end of the war, something only a handful of others could claim. To find anyone better at shooting down Arabs, you would have to go to Tel Aviv. However, this was his private thought as it was still the official position of his government that the Jews should be driven into the sea at the earliest convenience. He very much hoped that a convenient time would not occur in his life as there are fewer more determined warriors than a nation surrounded by enemies on all sides.
While both sides declared victory, the conclusion of the nearly decade long conflict was closer to a stalemate. Nothing changed, and all it cost was an ocean of blood on both sides. Ash didn't know whom he detested more, Saddam Hussein or his own government. Still, his status as an Ace combined with his possession of what he considered common sense propelled his career, and he excelled.
A little over ten years later, with equal parts irony and schadenfreude, Ash was the commanding officer of a detail of hundreds of Iranian Air Force officers and pilots invited into Iraq to ferry most of the Iraqi Air Force to Iranian Air Fields prior to it being destroyed on the ground by the US Air Force, his old buddies. He hoped his government declined to return these aircraft even if half were old Soviet MiGs that would be more useful at the breakers than on the tarmac.
By the time September 11th happened, Ash was already a general serving in General Planning, a joint staff billet. He felt pretty bad for the American people, and most people in Iran did as well if you didn't count the lunatics. When it became clear who was responsible, he briefed his superiors and government that America would be compelled to respond militarily.
The best option, in his opinion, was to go to Afghanistan and bomb their country into rubble, then bomb their rubble into gravel and then bomb their gravel into dust and leave. However, he predicted the American's would select the worst possible military option, which was a ground invasion with an eye to staying there long-term. Ash's opinion was insightful but not unique. However, Ash also paired it with the insane idea that America would likely invade Iraq.
At first, his leaders considered him loopy as Al Qaeda hated Saddam Hussein even more than they hated Persians, which is to say a lot. But Ash was confident, and over time after observing the American media and American government beat the drums against Iraq, everyone was convinced. Ash was invited to brief his superiors and civil leaders about Iran's options if Iraq was invaded. His answer was pretty simple: everything; anything. America was perfectly capable of fighting a two theatre war on opposite sides of the continent, but without a national mobilisation and draft, that was probably all they could do.
Once American forces were bogged down in Iraq, they effectively pulled the "military intervention" card off the table in any dealings with Iran.
Ash didn't have much respect for Iran's paramilitary and covert forces, that is to say, the Revolutionary Guard and Quds Force, but he had to admit that the next decade or two would be a fertile ground for unofficial help and proxies advancing the Islamic Republic's interests this way. By the time he retired as Air Force Chief of Staff in 2021, the Americans were still in that godforsaken desert and had turned most of the Levent into a Mad Maxesque hellscape, too. He literally couldn't believe it at times. The way the American's orchestrated the death of Libya's bedouin weirdo after he agreed to disarm his weapons of mass destruction made it a strategic imperative in Iran to achieve deterrence no matter the cost.
Ash enjoyed his retirement and his grandchildren and took up painting, reading and watching evil Western media. He even owned an X-Box.
Ash died on a winter morning surrounded by crying family members. It was a good life, he thought.
---
Honestly, being a closet atheist or, at best, severely agnostic, he wasn't expecting much more than that. He certainly wasn't expecting what happened.
The transition from losing consciousness to sitting in a waiting room was instantaneous, with no segue at all.
"What the fuck…" were his first words, but he trailed off as ideas entered his head. He wouldn't call it telepathy but a knowing. A certainty. He knew he was dead, and this didn't surprise him. Well, it surprised him that he was still capable of understanding and considering anything at all if he were honest with himself. He also knew that he would be given an offer, and if he wanted to decline, all he had to do was stand up and leave the room to the rear. Otherwise, he should enter the office in front of him.
He almost got up and left the room immediately. He wasn't interested in selling his soul, now that he knew he had one. But if he had one sin, it was his pride and his curiosity. Ash wanted to see what the devil had to say. He stood up and walked with a purpose to the door, opened it and stepped inside.
Clerics told him his entire life that the Great Satan was America, but honestly, he did not really expect it to be true. But she was definitely American. He would have bet money, but not his soul, on it. Nor did he expect her to be so blonde and perky.
He'd try an Americanism, then. "Get thee behind me, Satan?" He said kind of unconvincingly. He should have paid more attention to the clerics when he was alive.
She laughed rather attractively. The foul qarînah replied in fluent Farsi, "I'm not the Devil. This place isn't the afterlife. I can't trade for your soul, even if I wanted to, and I don't. I want your Karma, present and future. And I have to give you an equitable exchange to get it. Sit down, and we'll discuss it." Her fluency annoyed him, especially the scholarly urban accent that was most common on either university professors or so-called students of the Quran.
Karma? He believed in what goes around comes around, he supposes, but this sounded more like some weird Oriental mysticism to him. Since when did King Yama decide to subcontract Barbie? "I don't believe in karma, at least not in the way you say it. I heard that capitalisation in your tone. And even if it did exist, mine would be worthless -- a person responsible for as much death as I am, not even counting ones I've killed personally, would have significant karmic debt. If the bloody Buddhists are right like you are implying, I'll probably reincarnate as an insect." He does sit, though.
She snorts from behind her mammoth desk, "Everything you just said is wrong. Except for the Buddhists, I don't know what happens after you die. Maybe you do reincarnate. Maybe poof! Nothing. Maybe you stand tall before the Big Man and get judged. But everything else you said is flat wrong. I do have use for those with poor karma. But I rarely talk to those types. Also, you, Mr Veisi, have significant karmic virtue. An almost ridiculous amount. I'm here to buy it off of you."
Ash's face is highly sceptical, "Huh? You got my file mixed up with someone else? I spent my entire life serving a government that was fence-sitting on tyranny and was responsible for the deaths of many people in that service. How is what you say possible, Miss," he paused as he realised that there is a name tag on the desk, "Barnes?"
She smiles, "Simple. A while back, the United States assassinated an Iranian Revolutionary Guard officer inside of Iraq. You were serving as Chief of Staff of the Iranian Air Force at the time and moderated the response to a token attack of an American base. You also ordered the ballistic missiles configured to detonate at an altitude to minimise, not maximise, the explosive pressure wave. People were injured but not killed. Remember?"
I nodded, "Yes, but I did not do that for altruistic reasons but pragmatic ones. I was afraid of the idiots in charge of both of our countries reaching a point of no return. The National Security Advisor of the US President at the time was that moustachioed psychopath. Also, my government would not accept not responding at all. I had to do my best to make it more... sound and fury than anything else."
She nodded, "While intention matters a lot, it is not everything. Had you not done both of those things, the odds are extremely high that a series of events would have unfolded, resulting in open conflict. Conflict Iran couldn't hope to win. When your government realized defeat was inevitable, they would have lashed out at the one target that was within their reach…" she trailed off.
Ash could definitely see that happen, and he didn't need three guesses to know what target, "The Jews..?"
She continued, "Indeed. Although nukes were unavailable at that point in time, it is very likely Iran would have utilized radiological dirty bombs and other WMDs. Very effectively. The Israeli's would have responded by nuking any Iranian town larger than a village, and even the Saudi's and some of their neighbours. You see, they would expect to be torn apart by their neighbours if weakened, so their final option is a scorched earth one, Option Samson."
Ash's eyes go wide, and he gets pale. He pauses to think, "Samson pulls the temple down on everyone's head, huh?" Although he barely paid any attention to even his own religion, which does not really speak of Samson or any of the Hebrew judges, he does get the reference. "Okay, I can actually see that series of events happening. So I am a little like that Soviet officer that stopped WW3 before it could start, Stanislav Petrov? So, what are you offering for my accumulated virtue? And how do I get to enjoy what you offer if I am dead?"
The woman who Ash was pretty sure wasn't Shaitan explained. She was offering a controlled reincarnation or transmigration, memories intact, to a different parallel universe or multiverse. She offered, "There may not be infinite multiverses, but if there is a limit, we don't know it. Want to be in the world of Harry Potter or perhaps a Z Fighter?"
Ash had consumed Western media for years and even spent some of his retirement playing games on an X-Box, but he decided to blatantly lie, "I do not know what any of that means. But I've always liked science fiction. And I've always liked the past, before modern technology. Can a soul reincarnate as artificial intelligence? During the Dark Ages?" He snorts at this contradiction. His favourite novels had always been time travel and taking modern technology into ancient times, as well as novels where the protagonist was an artificial intelligence or android.
She nods excitedly, "It is a common misconception, but any neural network that advanced to the point of sapience will generally have a soul. Human children don't really have a fully developed soul until two years old or so. AI's in high entropy, high technology universes do not usually start out with a soul. It also depends on the constraints they operate under, but it is common for one to develop over time. Your request is not as contradictory as you think. Time travel is impossible, but there are many alternate Earths where the only delta of divergence from your own universe is time. Based on your personality profile, this is very similar to the request my system anticipated." She claps her hands together, "Request granted; I will utilise the balance of your virtue to provide material upgrades and change causality to your advantage in the beginning. You'll enjoy yourself, I assure you!"
Wait, there was no Yes/No confirmation button? No contract he had to sign? Ash tried to yell something out, but there was another instantaneous transition.
---
Lily Barnes finished making a note on her computer and then closed out the Iranian's gentleman's file. She was a little terse with him but did not particularly want to go back and forth when she was so confident. She found it odd that there was a requirement to speak to people with positive karmic values at all. The dossier on each client is comprehensive, including full immersion playback of any part or the entirety of his life as well as a precis on his personality and relationships that would make Facebook blush.
She hadn't had this "job" if one could call it that, for too long, but she hadn't had a single client that had selected something very much different from the three pre-generated options her system provided for her. In fact, she wasn't even obligated to even take their considerations into account, even though she had to listen to them.
She would subtly steer a positive client towards a fulfilling second life in a universe where he or she could make choices to help a large number of people. Conversely, for a negative client, she would gift them some golden finger of her choice and then place them like a natural disaster or calamity in the path of a large group of people that had such negative karmic values that widespread destruction around them still tended to be karmically positive. The ultra-high-speed AKSE, or Automatic Karmic Severing Equipment, only allowed virtue to flow upstream to her, anyway. It kept a constant watch on all clients, and when it detected a client's decision that would, in its calculations, create a karmic sin, it temporarily severed their karmic relationship. That would prevent sin from being passed upstream to her in 99.999% of all situations. It was a bigger cheat than she usually handed out to her clients, at least in this business.
In the case of Mr Veisi, she was positive she made the correct choice for both parties. He had a good percentage chance of surviving the first year, and if that happened, he was golden. Not only would he enjoy his second life, but he would likely help a very large number of people, and a small fraction of that positive karma would flow back here as well because that was the whole name of the game, wasn't it?
Lily Barnes stretched like a cat and queued up her next client. A new dossier appeared on her monitors, and a woman appeared in her waiting room. The young woman took an inordinate amount of time to decide to see what Lily had to say. Lily might have to tweak her filtering algorithms again. Any time a potential client declined to talk with her, she took that as a failure and used spiritual expert systems to adjust her soul filters. Incarnating a temporary spirit body for each soul for a discussion was a sunk cost, too, so she tried to filter out anyone who would never agree to her terms in the first place.
However, eventually, the woman stood up and walked towards Lily's door. Lily used a button on her chair to freeze the woman in time right before she touched the handle, and only then did Lily start to peruse her file. Lily often spent a month, subjective time, on each client's workup, and you only had to waste your time like this once or twice when a client declined to speak to you before you took precautions like this.
"Work smarter, not harder," is what her dad told her when she was a little girl and running a virtue farm was hard work even if you were a genius. If she didn't give each client close to an equivalent exchange, then rather than taking their virtue, she would accrue at least that amount of sin, and usually much more. In practice, she aimed to compensate each client at approximately the 115% level to ensure she stayed safe because Karma was a bitch, and she kept receipts.
"Aadhila Chaudhary, nurse… Select modern Hindi and Tamil language pack…". The Karmic Specialist named Lily Barnes often talked to herself as she prepared for her clients.