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’“We don’t know what to
do, Doctor Orr,” Laura Lovett said. “Joe and I love each
other so much, but we can’t make our marriage work.” She
glanced at her husband in distress. “We should be soulmates.
Only . . .”
“Only it
always goes wrong,” Joe Lovett said. He gazed desperately
at his wife in the chair beside him. “Laura and I went
together, broke up and got together. Over and over again.”
He looked down at his clenched hands as if searching for an
answer. “You’ve got to help us. We’re prepared to do
anything, even if it means . . . the Procedure.”
The
Procedure. Behind his desk, Dr. Orr felt a chill and
deliberately ignored the plea. “Judging from your file,
you’ve both tried repeatedly to resolve your problems.”
Laura
shifted in her chair. “Tell me, Dr. Orr, how is your
marriage?” She blushed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked
that.”
Dr. Orr
waved a plump hand. “It’s perfectly all right. Anne and I
have been married thirty years.”
“And it
works for you? You two have always been happy?”
“Good gosh,
no. Occasionally we’ve argued. But overall, we’ve been
happy. Sometimes our love wanes, sometimes it flares, but
it’s always there. In that respect, it’s probably like most
successful marriages.”
“That’s
just it,” Joe Lovett said. “Even when we quarrel, our love
is usually intense. If it does wane, it flares up again
because it’s so strong.” Tears flooded his eyes. “So
strong it threatens to consume us.”
“Let’s try
again to determine why,” Dr. Orr said. “You both met in the
fifth grade?”
“Yes,” the
Lovetts said together. They hesitated, then replied in
tandem fashion, completing each other’s words.
“It was
during recess and . . .”
“. . . we
both knew at once, even then. We . . .”
“. . .
dated all through school and got married . . .”
“. . . our
first year in college. Two years later we separated. We
agreed . . .”
“. . . to
see different people. We each had partners and calmer, less
complicated relationships. But something was . . .”
“. . .
missing, there was no magic. So we got back together and
tried again. For a while it was wonderful, then . . .”
“. . . it
fell apart all over again. Since then, we’ve gone through
that process three more times.”
Dr. Orr
tapped his desk. “This is the crux of the problem, what
mars your otherwise close relationship. I wonder if you
could both share your thoughts again on that subject.”
“Well,”
Laura said, “sometimes Joe stays up too late . . .”
“. . . and
Laura takes too long to dress.”
“Joe likes
scary movies . . .”
“. . . and
Laura likes chick flicks.”
They both
stopped. “But that’s not it,” Laura continued. “Many
couples have different tastes. Somehow, though, they put
their differences together and make their marriage better
and richer.” She sighed. “I don’t understand. Little
things Joe does irritate me, and yet I know they’re
unimportant.”
“The same
goes for me,” Joe said. He reached for his wife’s hand, but
she was drying her eyes with a handkerchief.
“‘Let me
not to the marriage of true hearts/Admit impediments,’” Dr.
Orr said.
“What’s
that?” Joe asked.
“A
Shakespearian sonnet. It just popped to mind.
Unfortunately, in our daily lives, impediments develop even
in the best relationships. As a couple, you need to be more
realistic and not expect too much from each other. There is
no such thing as perfect happiness. A successful marriage
depends on the way we compromise and make allowances.”
“We know
that,” Laura said. “I don’t think it has to do with
compromise but how we feel, our temperament, the type of
people we ultimately are.” She gazed at her husband. “It’s
deeper than making allowances. We do that, even bend over
backward to accommodate each other. Sometimes I think the
problem’s in our souls, that despite our great love, we
aren’t meant to be together at all.”
“Now,
honey.” Joe reached toward her but she was drying her eyes
again.
“Whatever
the case,” Dr. Orr said, “you and Joe will have to do
something different. Otherwise you will only repeat the
pain of the past and divorce may be the only alternative.”
“No!” Laura
said.
“My wife’s
right,” Joe said. “We can’t give each other up. We’ll do
anything to reach a solution. Please. Let us try the
Procedure. If you refuse, we’ll go elsewhere.”
This time
Dr. Orr could not ignore his plea. “Very well.” He opened
a drawer and removed a small green object. “You know what
this is.”
“Yes,”
Laura said.
“It took
years to get the Procedure legalized,” Dr. Orr said. He
took a deep breath. “I want to stress that this measure is
final, extreme, and irrevocable. It’s not just a mystical,
New Age road to salvation. Results have been decidedly
mixed, and many couples’ lives have been tragically ruined.
Their enhanced closeness has only caused them to feel more
divided. Sometimes they even come to hate each other.
Please understand that once you use the implant, you can
never go back.”
Laura and
Joe traded glances. “We know,” they said.
“I hope you
also know that ten percent of the cases result in immediate
failure and the loss of the individual hosting the implant.
His – or her – mind is not uploaded or transferred and
ceases to exist in any form.”
The Lovetts
swallowed. Finally, they nodded.
“I also
want to stress,” Dr. Orr continued, “that you must choose
very carefully which one of you uses the implant because its
effect is both irrevocable and unpredictable. Once it is
pressed to the neck just beneath the ear” – he indicated the
action with his finger – “it will quickly pass beneath the
skin and perform its function. In turn, both of you should
immediately make love to facilitate communion. After an
hour . . . ”
“We know,”
Joe said. “How do we decide who takes the implant?”
“Basically,” Dr. Orr said, “it’s the person who’s more
willing to make the sacrifice.”
Laura
trembled. “We both are willing.”
“Then draw
straws,” Dr. Orr said. He studied them both, his eyes
filled with sadness. “The decision is up to you.”
# # #
Naked, they
gazed at each other in the dim intimacy of their room.
“You’re so beautiful,” one said. And the other replied, “So
are you.”
“I love you
with all my heart.”
“And I,
you.”
They
embraced and lay down on the bed, where the invisible
tensions that divided them melted in the ardor of their
love. Again and again they came together and murmured
endearments, their hearts singing with joy.
# # #
Afterward,
Laura awoke and rose. She gazed down at the body on the bed
and touched it. The skin was still warm.
“You are so
beautiful,” she said.
She waited
for Joe to arrive, but her mind remained silent. A minute
passed. Two.
Laura began
to feel fear. Dr. Orr had warned that ten percent of
implants failed and the participants were lost forever.
Joe. Had
she lost him? Was he gone? She closed her eyes and
waited. Please God, let Joe return to her. Don’t let him
die.
Still
nothing. Her mind was an empty sepulcher without even a
whisper of the man she loved. Oh God, how could she have
been so foolish? Why hadn’t they considered the possibility
that this could happen? She tried to remember how long it
took for the uploaded partner to appear but couldn’t.
Joe. Joe.
Empty.
Empty.
Then ever
so faintly, she felt a wakening inside her. She gasped in
relief. Please, let it be.
Moment by moment, Joe’s
beloved presence grew. Finally, he spoke. I’m here, Laura,
and I love you.
She burst
into tears. And I you. Oh Joe, I was afraid you were
gone! When you didn’t show up . . .
I’m here now, dearest.
And I’ll be with you forever.
Yes. She trembled. But
Joe, I should have drawn the short straw. It should be MY
body lying there.
No,
darling, I’m glad I won.
Minutes
passed as they explored and savored their new union, the
nuances of each other’s thoughts and dimensions. It’s
different, he finally said. Closer than ever before. And
no more walls, no more resentments.
And I don’t
feel estranged from you like I used to, she replied. No
more intimate strangers. More like . . .
Soul mates, he
answered. Sublime harmony. She felt him caress her body
with his mind, and then his essence filled her being with
fresh love and passion, promising a new life together.
Throbbing with desire,
she moved to lie down on the bed.
Wait, Joe, Laura
thought. We forgot something.
What? Oh yeah, the
body. MY body. To Laura’s surprise, her mouth opened and
Joe laughed. No problem, though. Dr. Orr gave us that
number to call for disposal. We can do it tomorrow, no
great rush.
No great rush?
Sweetheart, are you serious?
Sure, dear. What’s the
problem?
What’s the problem? Her
joy faded. Joe, we can’t have your BODY lying here, on our
BED.
Why not? It’s just like
an old shoe, Laura. When it’s outworn its purpose, you just
toss it out. For the first time, Joe seemed mildly
displeased. Not only that, he thought she was being
foolish, making a mountain out of a molehill. Tasting his
mind, she found it strangely different, as if she’d never
known him at all.
Laura, Joe said, don’t
be upset. Look, we can call that number right now if you
want. He waited, but she didn’t answer. Laura, you feel
sad. Is something wrong?
She swallowed, feeling a
rising dread. Not only was this another disagreement, but
it was even more disturbing than those she and Joe had had
before the Procedure. What should she say to him? Was she
overreacting? Yet Joe had seemed so casual about his own
corpse, as if he didn’t mind making love right beside it.
Laura?
Laura closed her eyes
and searched the darkness, hoping to find an answer.
End |
