COMMUNITY

You gonna need help? And I mean looking for your ball!!

No thanks, Ethan, I’ve got it covered.

No up-clocking, five minutes means real time!

Yes Larry, I know the rules too.

You know if you’d stop coming over the top…

LARRY!! Knock it off, rang out three voices in practiced unison.

So went the pleasant banter of four old friends. Well three friends and the world’s most consistent curmudgeon, Larry, engaged in a round of golf on a beautiful course just south of Valencia. El Saler was eighteen holes of seaside spectacle, immaculately manicured with a sweeping view of the nearby Mediterranean Sea. All was well with my world even if I was picking my way through a stand of pine trees looking for my errant ball. As I looked down and spotted the little orange dickens, in a bit of strange coincidence an alert chime rang out.

"Incoming message, priority high, please open immediately!”

There were only two possible messages that would arrive with high priority while I’m on the golf course. One good, the other bad, I had a feeling I knew which one this was…

"Open”

Priority message from Eastern Shore Hospice:

Sir, we regret to inform you of the passing of our resident, G. L. Ottman who expired peacefully this morning at 5:47 AM EST. The remains have been collected for final disposition as per your standing instructions. Please accept our condolences to you and your family on the loss of your loved one and be assured that we stand ready to assist you with any future needs your family may have. Billing for final cost to be sent under separate cover, please remit in 30 days.

Sincerely, Eastern Shore Hospice Home

Proud member of the Final Care Services Family.

End Message.

There wasn't much else I could do but punch a low 7 iron back into the fairway and move on.

What’s wrong with you, Larry asked? You look like somebody died. I guess I’m not as good as I thought at hiding my emotions. I looked up and as I met his gaze, he softened for just a moment into a rare instant of humanity. Oh! I’m sorry, who was it?

It’s me, I said. The moment passed, Larry’s laugh echoed out over the course and four men on the adjacent tee box scowled at us. I died thirty years ago, you’ll get over it. Get back in the game, we’re down two holes as it is and this one isn't looking very good so far either. You’re in for half a hundred, so suck it up!

My next shot ended up on the collar of the green. I sunk a twenty footer straight uphill for par and we halved the hole. Perhaps knowing you can never go back is a liberating thing. It seemed to be for me at least, I felt very peaceful and somehow focused. I think looking back the steadily deteriorating condition of my physical body had been weighing on my mind more than I wanted to admit.

Things went pretty much my way from there. We were even up at the turn on the strength of my back to back birdies on eight and nine. Larry’s unrelenting, acerbic chatter got in Ethan’s head (again) and he missed a three foot birdie putt on 12, but did collect twenty for closest to the pin. It all evened out on side bets though, Don had long drive and Larry as always took the fairway count. I was already happy with the two skins I had from the birdies, the combination sandy/greenie/EAGLE!! on 15 closed the door on Don and Ethan’s chance for a comeback and gave Larry and I the match with three holes to go. And another 20 for a third skin to boot!

Taken as a whole, an enjoyable and very profitable day! You know, aside from the dying part. Even Larry seemed happy! I was hopeful that was from the winnings and not, you know, the other thing… "So, do we get a chance to get some of this back next week?” Don asked. "Umm, I don’t think so” I replied. I mean there’s the whole funeral thing on Tuesday, You’re all welcome if you can make it. It’s going to be pretty informal. The wife and I have a lot in Maryland, she’s been there for a few years now. One of my Grandsons is going to plant a tree. It would be good to see you guys again before I leave if don’t have other plans.

"Why, where are you going?” asked Ethan. "He’s off on his space cowboy thing again” chimed in Don. "Space garbage man you mean.” added Larry. Hey, I said, we left all that junk up there, somebody has to clean it up. Besides six months alone is just what I need right now, give me a little time to think and recharge. I fly out to the big island Thursday, promised the wife we’d spend the whole day at the beach. No golf this time, sorry Ethan. Launch is set for 0300’ish Saturday morning. Don’t worry you’ll get a chance to get some of your money back soon enough. Never know, I might snag a Sputnik this trip, I’ll have a lot more to lose.

Thus was born the ultimate prosthetic. The virtual prosthetic human being had been discovered quite by accident, as it were. By the time I died there were just a few million of us. Almost four thousand years later we now outnumber "Physicals” by a wide margin. So here I sit, almost 300 light years from Earth, on a ship moving better than 7% of light speed, looking for the "Goldilocks World”. Not too hot, or too cold, not too much radiation, some liquid water if you please, just right!

What is it to be alive, conscious, to be human, real? What is existence? The answers to these questions have for many centuries been alternately taken for granted as self-evident or debated endlessly as abstract philosophy. It was only in the middle of the 21^st century that both the self-evident and the abstract camps ran out of comfort zone. I assure you, I am all of the above. Alive, conscious, human, and very real! Yet by the standards which existed in the late 20^th century, I am none of the above. My corporal body, brain and consciousness, my physical existence passed from this universe many centuries ago. "Memento, homo ... quia pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris" (cf. Gn 3:19). "Remember, man, you are dust and to dust you will return."

Self-awareness, to be aware of who I am, where I am, when I am. This gives me existence. Human emotions, to love or hate, fear or hope. To dream, especially to dream! Do androids dream of electric sheep? It turns out, they do not. Processors don’t sleep or dream, people however do. I still dream vividly and sleep deeply.

Alive, the ability to sense my surroundings and respond to sensory input, to see and feel and taste, to know physical pleasure or pain, these sensations were once hard wired via neurons and electro-chemical synapses. The sensations are still there, the pathways have been changed somewhat, but the end result is the same. The real test, the real proof that I am who and what I say I am is my uniqueness! My ability to exist in one and only one place and time defines me as me. If I were a program, a hologram, or simulation, I could be copied and exist in many places at many times. I could in fact be simulated, but the simulation would be no more the real me than an old fashioned photo or video recording. Today’s simulation would be much more sophisticated and interactive to be sure, but still not real at all. I exist in the here and now, just as I always have.

The more interesting question it turns out is, what is it to be dead? Adam Weinstein had inherited a small but not insignificant sum upon the passing of his father Julius. He invested shrewdly in the early 1980’s tech revolution and wisely got out just before what came to be known as the dot com bust. His son Aaron in turn had invested in the early virtual reality boom. His biggest coup had been being the primary investor in what was known as the "Simul-Suit”. Picture a scuba wetsuit lined with temperature and pressure transducers. The wearer can now experience the sensation of being wet when diving into a virtual shark filled pool, the roasting heat of hiking along the rim of an active volcano, and an icy chill while clinging to the north face of the Eiger. All while remaining in the perfect safety of his living room.

They cost a small fortune, and they sold like water ice in a Texas heat wave. Aaron changed his last name from Weinstein to Whitestone and when the first QUIPP’s were being developed at Princeton Labs, Mr. Whitestone’s money was right there in spades. Which is how it came to pass on a fateful windy day that Aaron’s brain was equipped with the most advanced QUIPP-VRmk7 interface yet developed. As Aaron’s brain waves got very calm and flat, that is as his primary processor failed, his backup processor took over. Aaron woke up in a whole new world. A world contained in a QUIPP-VRmk7 to be exact.

Aaron however returned home that evening to a very old world. One in which his wife Judith was dressed in black and was busy draping black covers over all the mirrors in his home. And in this perhaps, we glimpse the final frontier of what it means to be human, to be real...