Duplicate Minds

Three

The coroner was captivated by Rajeev's synthetic body.

"Fascinating," he said as Dev helped his father shuffle into the morgue. "Would you mind if I—if I touched it?"

"Don't you dare touch me," Rajeev snapped.

The coroner, a tall, skeletal man who appeared to be in his fifties, jumped. "I'm sorry," he stammered. "I—I didn't realize you were—"

"I don't care. Keep your hands to yourself."

He nodded, and wordlessly beckoned for them to follow him to the back of the building where the bodies were kept.

"I've prepared the body for you here on the examination table," he said. He gestured to the table in the middle of the room. The table—and the body laying on top of it—were covered by a white sheet. "I'll give the two of you some privacy. Just come on out when you're done."

"Thank you," Dev said with a nod. "We won't be long." The coroner left, leaving Dev and Rajeev alone with the corpse of the man who was, in a sense, a father to them both.

Rajeev stumbled toward the table and reached a hand toward a corner of the sheet. "Well . . . shall we?"

"Allow me, dad." Dev grabbed the sheet and pulled it back.

It was a surreal experience, staring into the face of the body Rajeev considered his. But that attachment, he reminded himself, was an illusion, born of the memories that had been artificially injected into his mind. Even so, it was startling to see how much the body had changed over fifteen years. It had aged, of course, as evidenced by the numerous wrinkles snaking their way across the face like a network of tiny rivers. But the inactivity of the coma had also affected Rajeev's appearance. His face looked sallow and sunken, devoid of the color and heft one would expect of a healthy, active body. Death played a part in that as well, of course, but he'd only died a couple hours ago. Still, the expression on his face looked peaceful, and Rajeev took some solace in the fact that he had died without pain, never aware of what his family had gone through as they'd waited fifteen years for a miracle that had never come.

Rajeev turned to his son. "Is this difficult for you, Dev?"

He seemed surprised by the question. "It's a bit unsettling, but I made my peace with the situation a long time ago." His lips grew into a wide smile. "Besides—now I have you." He patted Rajeev's back.

"I'm not him. Whatever spark kept him alive has been snuffed out. I'm nothing more than his shadow."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. As I said earlier, it's a bit of a thorny philosophical issue." His face lit up as he dove into his argument. "There's a thought experiment: Imagine a teleportation device that copies the configuration of you down to the last atom. It scans you in, say, LA, then builds an identical copy in New York."

"But what happens to you in LA?"

"Precisely! The original is destroyed—otherwise you'd have a cloning machine. But what if the machine in LA malfunctioned and failed to destroy the original, even after the duplicate has been configured in New York? What do you have then? Is the copy any less you than the original?"

"Yes. Because it's still a copy. The original has its own, distinct consciousness apart from that of its clone."

"But if the two consciousnesses are identical to each other . . . well, nevermind. It's a moot point. The fact is, there is now only one Rajeev Sundaram on this earth and you're him."

"Fair enough." Rajeev placed a hand on his progenitor's shoulder. "Goodbye. I'll . . . I'll try to live the life you would have if you'd had the chance." He nodded to Dev, who replaced the white sheet over the body. Then he helped his father as they both exited the room.

***

Rajeev's mind wandered on the drive home. He thought of his family. Despite knowing he was only a copy, he couldn't deny the powerful emotions he felt for his wife and children. He'd been reunited with one of them, but he still longed to see the others.

"What now?" he asked Dev. "Can I go home—see Sarah and Mira?"

"I wouldn't recommend that. Not yet."

"Why not?"

"I'd like to take you back to the lab. We've developed a kind of rehabilitation program for new activations to help them acclimate to their new bodies. You've taken to yours surprisingly quickly, but you'd still benefit from some guidance before you venture out into the real world."

Rajeev hung his head. "You'd think I was a toddler and not a grown man."

Dev smirked. "I know, I know. It may seem a bit infantilizing, but truly, this is the best thing for you, dad. When you do venture out on your own, you'll barely notice the difference from your old body."

Rajeev looked down at his silicone-covered torso and flashed his son a skeptical look.

"Like I said—we'll get you put into an upgraded model as soon as possible."