Awakenings

"What the good doctor failed to mention," interposed the priest as Katameros turned in his direction, "is that from the 1960's until after the turn of the 21^st century, the prospect of healing and resuscitation after post-mortem freezing seemed extremely remote in the court of public opinion. However, Cryonic Life succeeded in convincing the masses that such healing and resuscitation was in fact plausible and even to be expected as medical advances unfolded, in much the same fashion that organ transplants became a medical reality several decades earlier."

"How did that 'exploit the innate selfishness of the common man'?" quipped Katameros with a sardonic smile.

"It created a whole new market," the doctor replied, "people became willing to buy life insurance for their own desires, as opposed to buying it solely for their survivors. The insurance was to pay for the cost of cryonic preservation - including time-of-death expenses similar to those for major transplant surgeries, as well as storage of the patient in liquid nitrogen into perpetuity - the whole nine yards. Cryonic Life Insurance Company guaranteed that their clients' bodies would be maintained for healing and resuscitation in such a way that information-theoretic death would not occur."

"Information-theoretic death?" queried Katameros.

"Yes," continued Dr. Radcliffe, "Information-theoretic death is the physical deterioration of the brain and the information within it to such an extent that the recovery of what constitutes the original person is theoretically impossible by any physical means."

"Heavy stuff," commented Katameros.

"Indeed it is," continued the doctor. "A central premise of cryonics is that long-term memory and identity are stored in durable structures within the brain, and that these don't require continuous brain activity to survive. You seem to be living proof that this premise is true."

"I guess I am," he replied, "although my memory is limited and I don't really know what my identity was before I died."

"Suffice it to say that you are at least not a blank slate," said the doctor, "which dispels the fear that brain death would be equivalent to formatting the hard disk drive on one of your computers of the twenty-first century."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Katameros quipped, "so the fear of a formatted hard drive must have been overcome if people became willing to embrace cryonics?"

"Exactly," replied Dr. Radcliffe, "people had to believe in the possibility of restoration - not only resuscitation, but recovery of identity - before they'd take cryonics seriously."

The priest cleared his throat. "It took more than belief in the possibility of resuscitation and recovery - there had to be trust in the storage techniques. Cryonics went from quackery to visionary almost overnight in the second decade of the twenty-first century," he added. "The end of its buffoonery took place with the onset of cryonics regulation, in the wake of the Ted Williams debacle."

"Wait a minute. Ted Williams - the great baseball player?" He turned to Dr. Radcliffe and gave her a smile and a wink.

"Ah, so you do have some memories that precede your initial demise," affirmed the priest. "Yes, that leviathan of the ancient and now-obsolete pastime of baseball, the 'Splendid Splinter' - who posthumously became known as the 'Decapitated Driller' - was unfortunately at the center of the inelegant case that ironically brought about the end of cryonics jeering."

"Yes, I seem to remember - they froze his head separately from his body, and there was a big family fight about it," recalled Katameros. "To make matters worse, rumours of his frozen head being accidentally dropped and cracked spread like wildfire."

"Those charges were never proven," said the priest, "but soon after that embarrassing episode, regulatory agencies intervened to develop standards governing cryonic freezing and maintenance processes. Not long after, cryonics began to take on an air of legitimacy."

Dr. Radcliffe interrupted, "I don't recall the Ted Williams affair, but I know that public opinion in the early days of cryonics was against the practice of neuropreservation."

"Neuropreservation?" asked Katameros.

"Yes, the cryopreservation of the head, without the rest of the body. It later became much more fashionable, on the basis that the brain is the repository of the human consciousness. And in practical terms, neuropreservation was less expensive and less likely to cause damage during the freezing process. The head would be preserved, with the intention of the future re-growth of a healthy body around the brain - using the same technology as for re-growth of a limb or organ, which was not possible in your day but is in ours. Alternate techniques which were once speculative but are now a reality, such as the development of a cloned body or an artificial body in which the brain could be housed, serve the same function."

"So is this my real body? Or is it a re-grown or cloned or artificial one?"

"No, you're built from all original parts, though the warranty expired a long time ago," she grinned. "But seriously, we repaired your body from the cause of death and from the damage of cryogenic freezing, and we genetically engineered it for the Methuselah Solution before resuscitating you, all using molecular nanotechnology. We needed the closest available proxy to a live human subject so that we could extrapolate the results of our genetic engineering to the general population. And a frozen head just didn't fit the bill," laughed the doctor.

The sounds of shouting that Katameros had heard earlier began to grow in the distance. "That noise - I've heard it before. Anyone know what's going on out there?" he wondered aloud.

"An unfortunate reaction," replied the priest somberly, "the masses are asses, and they are looking for you."

* * * * *

"Me?" replied Katameros in unfeigned surprise. For the moment, the priest did not respond. Katameros stood and moved past Dr. Radcliffe, up the aisle and toward the altar at the front of the sanctuary. His hands were trembling as he turned to face them.

The doctor was the first to speak. "All part of the Cryonic Life story," she explained, "the company enjoyed great success for many decades. Its sales of cryonic life insurance policies exploded as people embraced the idea of future regeneration. People even overcame their sense of the macabre in relation to neuropreservation, bringing the practice of storing only the head into vogue in the last few decades. People saw advances emerging in molecular medicine that would indeed allow the re-growth of organs and limbs, and by going the post-mortem decapitation route they could significantly reduce the cost of cryopreservation and the attendant life insurance policies used to fund it. But then in the last decade, things began to go off the rails..."

"Heads began to roll?" asked Katameros with a nearly straight face.

"No, the financing began to fail," replied the doctor.

"Human nature continued to fail," retorted the priest, "Self-interest drove the sales. Mispricing drove the financial viability of Cryonic Life into doubt. Greed drove the timing of your resuscitation. And the masses weren't prepared."

"Now I'm really confused," moaned Katameros.

"I think I can explain," soothed the doctor as she stood and moved toward him at the altar. "You know about the self-interest. People bought the Cryonic Life policies because it gave them something for themselves - really, Cryonic bottled hope for the future."

"Yes," said Katameros, "I get that, even though I don't remember doing it."

"Yes, that's odd, although it's consistent with your partial amnesia. Anyway, there's then the issue of mispricing - that's another story," said Dr. Radcliffe. "Cryonic Life built their pricing on assumptions, some of which nobody could reasonably validate. Assumptions about investment earnings on the premiums they collected, to help pay for ongoing cryopreservation maintenance costs. But more importantly, assumptions about how long the freezing would need to continue until a viable healing and resuscitation solution could be developed."

"The Methuselah Solution?" queried Katameros.

"No, that's a more recent solution," replied the doctor, "that was not really contemplated by Cryonic Life or the forefathers of cryonics, like R.C.W. Ettinger or Evan Cooper. The idea of the Methuselah Solution, with life expectancies measured in the hundreds or even thousands of years, is a product of my generation. The wait for simple healing and resuscitation - the arcane version of the Methuselah Solution - is a product of yours. And the wait was longer than Cryonic Life assumed when they priced their insurance policies."

"How much longer?"

"They thought they were being conservative when they priced for fifty years on the early policies, and they've been reducing that assumption in the generations since. But you know it's been eighty-nine years for you - a lot more than the original "conservative" fifty-year assumption. They underestimated by forty or so years. Multiply that by the annual maintenance costs, and then again by the thousands upon thousands of policies they sold. I'm not exactly sure how to calculate the extra cost - I'm no actuary - but it adds up to a boatload of money. New sales of Cryonic Life policies have been funding old policy guarantees for the last decade. Even with premium increases on new policies, they're headed for financial ruin if the maintenance for old policies can't be terminated soon."

"Terminated?" Adam's uplifted eyebrow accentuated his quizzical tone.

"One of two ways - let the corpses thaw and rot," smiled Dr. Radcliffe at her indelicate choice of words, "in which case Cryonic Life's reputation is shot to hell and there's no more market for new sales, or - resuscitate the old policyholders en masse."

"So that's what Father Brown meant when he said that the masses weren't ready?"

"No, you're a step ahead. We're on Father Brown's third point, the timing of the resuscitations. En masse resuscitation is about the frozen bodies of the last several generations, not the marching masses of today's generation."

"So what's the issue about the timing of the resuscitations?"

"It's based on greed. Cryonic Life's greed - they need to stop paying the long-term costs of cryopreservation on all their old policies. So they were willing to help fund the shorter-term costs of our research on the nanomedical techniques that we're using for restoration and resuscitation."

"So Cryonic Life is motivated by greed, but it looks like a good thing they're doing..."

"But the resuscitations are based on WCNMS's greed, too - we're anxious to get our Methuselah Solution to market so that we can make a fortune. If Cryonic Life knew that part of the equation, they'd have thought twice about funding our work, since their product will become somewhat obsolete to people with life expectancies of a thousand years."

"Okay, I get it. You raised me from the dead for WCNMS's financial gain, and your employer feels no compulsion to deal squarely with its stakeholders. So there's nothing altruistic in what they're doing, either..." Katameros' voice trailed off as he paused to reflect, then continued, "And the fourth point, about the masses being asses?"

She rested a hand gently on his shoulder. "Adam, I'm afraid the masses are not ready for a single person from a century ago - let alone thousands - to be introduced into our society today."

"What are they worried about - overpopulation?"

"I'm afraid it's more ethereal than that," she countered. "The current generation is as concerned with the spiritual as it is with the physical. When news of Cryonic Life's plans for widespread resuscitations was announced, there were mass demonstrations in the streets. People with placards declaring 'Don't unleash the zombies!' and "Cremation, not creation!' marched on government buildings. They're demanding that their voices be heard and that the resuscitations be stopped. And if not for the neat - some might say shady - way that the availability of cryopreserved bodies legally solved our dilemma for testing the Methuselah Solution, WCNMS would probably have yielded to the public pressure."

"But - but why are the masses calling us zombies?"

The priest took over from his seated position. "It's because they believe in the separation of body and spirit at death - that the spirit leaves the body and departs to its eternal destination. And you represent something fearful to them: either their theology is wrong, or you have no soul. They have no tolerance for either."

* * * * *

Katameros stood in stunned silence. Dr. Radcliffe dared not speak. Finally, Father Brown moved forward from his pew.

"Don't allow the popular theology to unduly influence you, my son," encouraged the priest, "as I said, the masses are asses."

"I don't think I understand..."

"The issue is one of faith. And their view of God is simply too small."

"How so, Father?" asked Katameros.

"Let me follow the example of the Teacher and answer a question with a question. What is faith?" asked the priest. Again, there was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

Finally, Katameros offered, "I guess it's something you choose to believe."

"Exactly," said Father Brown, "but the basis of that choice to believe is all-important. It needs to be a basis that recognizes that God is God and man is man."

"So what does that have to do with me not having a soul?"

"Those who choose to believe that your soul has been separated from your consciousness, now that your consciousness has been restored to your body, have narrowed their understanding of God."

"Really? In what way?" retorted Katameros.

"They have viewed your resuscitation as an act of man rather than an act of God. As if God has your spirit, but man was able to pry His hand off your consciousness when he - or, more accurately, she - resuscitated your body."

"I don't know about this God stuff, Father. As far as I can remember, I've never been a religious man."

"Nor have I," quipped Father Brown, "I'm instead a man of faith - faith in a God who is not limited, not even by man-made constructs like the good doctor's 'information-theoretic' death."

"What do you mean?" asked Dr. Radcliffe, rejoining the conversation. "What about information-theoretic death?"

"You posed it as a point at which recovery of the person is impossible due to the physical deterioration or destruction of the brain," replied the priest. "My view of God is that no such boundaries exist for Him, even if the brain is completely physically destroyed. He who created man from the dust of the earth can surely recover and restore man from the dust of the earth."

"I - I see your point, Father," she replied.

"Not only physically restore man's consciousness," said Father Brown, "but He who breathed the breath of life into the first man can return the spirit to the recovered man," said the priest as he turned from Dr. Radcliffe to Katameros.

He seemed to be assessing Adam's demeanour for signs of a reaction. Katameros was lost in thought when the shouts from outside grew very loud and sunlight streamed into the previously dark vestibule.

* * * * *

"You two - into the confessional," whispered the priest as he strode quickly toward the back of the sanctuary and the vestibule beyond. Katameros and Dr. Radcliffe both hesitated, not sure what the priest had in mind. Father Brown stopped at the exit from the sanctuary and turned toward the pair. "Go," he mouthed, pointing to the confessional. Katameros and the doctor moved to the confessional and entered, one at a time, as the priest left the sanctuary and entered the vestibule.

The space inside the confessional was cramped, and the two of them crouched on the floor. The compartment was designed to be occupied by only one penitent at a time. Its walls were structured to mute the sounds from within, in order to maintain the sanctity of the confidential confession. Still, Katameros and Dr. Radcliffe could hear raised but muted voices from the direction of the vestibule.

As they waited and strained to hear, Katameros breathed a heavy sigh. "I'm not sure I'm supposed to be here," he stated forlornly.

"You're thinking you shouldn't have come to the church with me?" the doctor asked.

"That's not what I mean. I mean I'm not sure I'm supposed to be alive," said Katameros, "maybe I should climb up to the top of the bell tower and throw myself off."

"Don't be silly," she answered, "why would you say such a thing?"

"Because I was born for a different time. Because those people out there in the vestibule hate me, or at least what I represent. And maybe they're right."

"That's crazy. You heard what Father Brown said about that."

"Yeah, it's pretty compelling - if you believe in God the way he does."

"And if you don't believe - then what does it matter whether you have a soul or not?"

"Maybe it's just that I don't see a purpose in living, if all I am is a computer disk that's been restored. I don't understand why I'm here. It must have made sense to me before. I had to have a reason for signing up with Cryonic Life to be brought back."

"Maybe you were looking for a second chance to find purpose and meaning in life. Maybe you believed that it existed but knew you just hadn't found it yet..."

Katameros was momentarily silent, again lost in thought. It suddenly became apparent from the sound of the priest's voice that the people had now moved into the sanctuary and stood just outside the confessional.

* * * * *

"...and as I said in the vestibule, if there were a fugitive in here, he would have a valid claim to sanctuary anyway," echoed Father Brown's voice from disturbingly close range to Katameros and the doctor.

"There's no if about it," declared an angry male voice, accompanied by shouts of affirmation. "The kid here saw him come out the back of the hospital with some woman while we were marching out front. He followed them down the street and saw them come in here. He came back to get us so we could do what needs to be done - God's work. We're gonna send the damned zombie back where he came from. It ain't natural. He ain't supposed to be here."

The priest surprised his adversaries by bursting into peals of laughter. Katameros and Dr. Radcliffe sat immobile inside the confessional, too frightened to move.

"What the hell are you laughin' about?" shouted the leader of the vigilante crowd.

"Of course it's not natural - it's truly a miracle," responded Father Brown, "so I find your statement that it's not natural to be a humorous statement of the obvious. But your idea of what's supposed to be is even more comical."

Katameros sat breathless, willing himself to silence, waiting to hear the outcome of the conversation through the confessional wall.

"Come again?" said the voice.

"You're worried about him being a man with a body but no spirit - a zombie, as you say?"

"That's right..."

"And it's your mission to kill him. A mission from God?"

"Exactly."

"And so God would have those whose mission is to serve Him to kill off those who are raised from the dead?" questioned the priest.

"Right again, Einstein," the man taunted.

"Don't you find that just a little bit ironic?"

"I don't get you," the man replied.

"Never mind," said the priest, "let me just put it this way. The thing that makes mankind unique is that God made us in His image - the Imago Dei. An aspect of the image of God in us is that we long for eternity, because He is eternal."