For Cooper Tower, another day at the office meant another day where everything could become suffocating due to monotony. Opening the door, leaving his footprints for the record, and starting to tackle a tedious day where he hoped the clock hands would reach the end to mark quitting time. The air in the building was cold and sterile, as if the ventilation system had been designed to keep any hint of humanity at bay. The sound of keyboards and the constant hum of machines filled the atmosphere, creating an impersonal symphony that drowned out any creative thought.
For others, that day might mean being on the verge of solving life's most important mysteries. For Cooper Tower, it was just about faking smiles as he reached his cubicle, avoiding catching the false kindness offered when exchanging glances with his colleagues. He was just another piece in an endless chessboard of pieces settling into a massive office that felt more like a warehouse due to its size. Another piece that could be replaced by an endless list of people vying for that job.
"Good morning, Mr. Tower," said the artificial intelligence as he turned on the computer and put on his headphones to isolate himself from the surroundings.
"Good morning, Aries," Cooper replied politely but without enthusiasm, arranging the panels for the next interview.
On the screen appeared a gray-haired man with large ears and a flat nose whose nostrils were visible. He had undergone the procedure a couple of weeks ago. At eighty-four years old, he was waiting his turn like everyone else to see if his configuration had passed the process or would be discarded, like hundreds of other participants. Cooper took the data pill and inserted it into the computer.
Cooper Tower's only enthusiasm was that the process would end without complications and he wouldn't have to discard someone as if their life meant little. That was better than watching their existence turn into nothing.
"Good morning, Mr. Johan. My name is Cooper Tower. I will be your guide from this moment on. How are you?" Cooper asked, following the protocol to the letter.
"This is incredible," Johan began, ignoring Cooper's question.
"Can you see me, Mr. Johan?" Cooper insisted, trying to maintain control of the situation.
"I can see you. I didn't think it would work. So it's true, we can live beyond. Death isn't the end after all..." Johan murmured, his voice a mix of awe and relief.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, Mr. Johan, but there are questions I must ask you following the protocol. Every second is important," Cooper said, trying to redirect the conversation.
"Of course, of course," Johan replied, though his mind seemed elsewhere.
"Can you tell me the name of your wife and children?" Cooper began to ask, trying to focus on getting valid answers for Mr. Johan's validation.
Each question was backed by the data warehouse, designed to verify that the information wasn't corrupted. They were getting closer to transmitting a person's memories to a database, achieving what scientists called "retrieving the soul," defeating death, and attaining immortality. However, Cooper was increasingly convinced that this fantasy was just a waste of energy resources. The artificial intelligence did most of the work, pretending to be someone else.
When Cooper had started this job, he had done everything as if it were a dream. His only dream was to live long enough to see the journey to other galaxies, to explore other planets. He knew he wouldn't have enough years to achieve it, but at least he wanted to believe that humanity was close to reaching the stars.
"Do you remember this photo, Mr. Johan? Can you tell me about this place?" Cooper asked at the end, after a series of images, with a furrowed brow. They were trick questions, photos generated by artificial intelligence to try to deceive the database.
If the procedure had been successful, Mr. Johan should have responded that those photos had never been taken. But instead, Johan began describing each one, creating memories that had never actually happened.
He was getting further away from seeing the journey to the stars, Cooper thought with repressed regret. He watched as his fantasy crumbled before his eyes.
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Johan. You have been selected for the next phase," Cooper said, trying to maintain his composure.
"Wait, I don't want to leave yet. I want to see my family, tell them I'm okay, greet my grandchildren, keep playing with them... I have money, I could make you rich," Johan pleaded, his voice trembling.
"Don't worry, Mr. Johan. Do you know about tardigrades? I'll just shut down your memory, and when you wake up, you'll be talking with your entire family," Cooper lied, feeling a lump in his throat.
He turned off the data and extracted the memory to discard it in the rejection cards, adding it to the pile of trash. It was a dream many fantasized about: waking up in the future. He could even send the data card to the deceased's family. But the energy required to simulate a single database was equivalent to that of an entire city. Humanity couldn't yet afford to simulate a life just to satisfy this whim. A cloned memory with a low-performance artificial intelligence would suffice to console the family for a while, until the farce reached the world's ears.
It was when the next image appeared that Cooper could barely hold back his tears. It was the image of a boy no older than eight. According to the records, his parents had been in a car accident, and the only way to save the boy's life had been to connect his brain to a database before he suffered brain death. The boy had black hair, with an almost perfect hairstyle, except for a few rebellious strands that gave him a youthful touch. His small nose and round face were lit up by a smile that squinted his eyes, as if he had so much to live for.
Tears began to well up in Cooper's eyes as he activated the database and heard the child's voice through his headphones.
"Are you Kelly? How are you?" Cooper asked, trying to maintain his composure.
"Where am I? Where are my parents?" Kelly asked, his voice trembling and confused.
"Do you remember where you were the last time you saw them? Maybe it will help me find them," Cooper said, breaking all protocol and following his instinct to talk to the boy.
"I remember... a trip. I don't know, I wanted to sleep. My parents were arguing... My mom, where's my mom?" Kelly asked, his voice breaking.
"Your mother's name is Nora. I can help you find her," Cooper said, looking at the photo of Kelly's mother. Kelly had been the only survivor, if you could call it that, given the procedure he was in.
"I want to go to her, but I can't move. Why can't I move? My arms... Where am I?" Kelly asked, desperate.
"Calm down, Kelly. Can you hear me? I'll help you breathe," Cooper said, though he knew machines couldn't breathe. They could only emit responses. Kelly's body had become a radio machine that could only be heard.
"The protocol indicates the data is corrupted, Mr. Tower. I will proceed to terminate the process," said the cold voice of Aries.
"No," Cooper ordered, slamming his desk in frustration.
But it seemed impossible. In Kelly's voice, there were only screams, accompanied by a lament calling for his mother over and over.
"All indications are that the procedure has failed," Aries repeated.
Cooper's options were running out. He had to wait. Children always tired themselves out after crying so much, but how long should he wait? If it was a machine, it would never tire until the energy ran out. He was trapped at a crossroads, pinching his nose with his hand as he tried to find a solution.
"Champ, listen to me. I'll take you to your mother, Nora. Close your eyes and don't think about anyone else. My name is Cooper Tower, I'm your friend. You have to meet the Toon Tons, everyone's talking about them right now. My favorite character is Lucky," Cooper said, trying to calm him down.
After a few seconds, the screen showed what Cooper hoped for: a toy Kelly had clung to a few days ago. Cooper's desk began to shake. As he clung to his chair to avoid falling, the ceiling lights started flickering. He felt a small stone fall on his head, and the next second, everything collapsed.
"What's happening?" Kelly's voice echoed as Cooper's colleagues adjusted their headphones and began to run.
"Everything will be fine. Close your eyes, sing with me," Cooper said, starting to hum the Toon Tons' song.
Cooper began to calm Kelly while initiating the protocol to shut down the computer. He closed his eyes slowly as he heard Kelly's voice for the last time, while the fire alarm proclaimed that the organization was under attack.
He looked around before running out. He took the data card and hid it in his pants pocket. Maybe he was confused, but he wanted to believe he had heard Kelly's soul and that his life shouldn't end in the pile of trash that accumulated day after day.