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Sutopia

Ch 1, Sutopia: A Space Utopia

Logan always liked to consider himself something of a 'free spirit'. Although not particularly driven he had been smart enough to coast through high school and graduate on time despite being constantly late to class and/or completely absent. He had a great love of free time and hated to have his schedule filled by 'have to' obligations. This continued into his post-high school life as well. Despite the fact that his mother worked at a university as an admissions specialist and his father served as a head technician at a data exchange center, Logan never gained their work ethic or their love of knowledge.

It was easy enough for him to fly 'under the radar' in his family, especially since he was the middle child and one of two boys. His brother was the elder of his two siblings and nearly two years older than he; by the time Logan had graduated high school his brother was well on his way to earning his bachelor's degree. His sister, just over a year younger than he, was the apple of his parents' eyes and they doted on her endlessly; she became a social butterfly. Between his brother's intellectual success and his sister's social aptitude, both of his parents were focused on his siblings, giving him plenty of leeway to drift.

Between a love of video games, movies and esoteric, thought-provoking broadcast shows, Logan had no shortage of ways to spend his free time, of which he had a lot. He considered himself to be something of a 'creative type', and he had no shortage of ideas, concepts, and projects that usually captured his attention for a few weeks or a month-- just long enough for him to make progress before something else pushed its way to the forefront of his mind and absorbed the few productive hours he managed to fit into his days.

On the rare occasion his parents got on his case about doing something with his time, Logan often lamented that he was born in the wrong century; had he been born a hundred years earlier, back in the golden age of the 8th decade of the 1900s then there would have been more opportunities to create and less ways to be distracted. The 1980s, he was quick to remind his parents, did not have mobile augmented reality visors, customized entertainment packages or even mobile communication devices! The discussions usually got nowhere, especially when his father reminded him that they could just as easily take back his electronic devices so they wouldn't be a distraction. That usually resulted in him getting a job... for awhile anyway.

Living at home with his parents had numerous advantages, not the least of which being free food and a roof over his head. By the time he reached his mid-20s, Logan was the only one of the family's kids still at home. He DID manage to get a part time job when he was forced to, but he rarely managed to keep one for more than a month or two. It wasn't that he wasn't willing try and his work ethic, when he focused on it was 'decent'. The main problem was that, not only did they require unfair schedules but they inhibited his ability to create and got in the way of his free time.

Logan, in general, was a likable sort, and that meant that he'd done well enough in social circles in high school. Many of his friends kept in touch with him as they continued on with their lives, heading to college or vocational training-- the same pathway his father had suggested on numerous occasions. The young man had heard the stories time and time again; back when his dad was growing up HIS father told him about life back when a teenager could get a job at a fast food restaurant without having a certificate of tech ops-- that was when the cooking was done by hand; the thought always made him laugh.

As time progressed Logan began to grow distant from his friends, or perhaps it was they who grew distant from him. Logan rarely had the money to spend any time hanging out with them and, for the first few years at least, he had enough friends that one of them was happy to pitch in so he could join them. As time went by, however, and, as they graduated their classes and started their lives they lost interest in paying his way; eventually they stopped reaching out as their tolerance for his free spirited lifestyle wore their relations thin. His personal life was one thing, but life in general got harder as global peace began crumbling.

Never one to care much for global politics, Logan only knew about the increasing threat of war because of discussions his parents had at night-- that, and the reduced access to some of the hottest games made overseas. Not normally opinionated when it came to global news, Logan had come to the conclusion that war sucked. Nationalism had been a big thing in the early 21st century but, after fifty or sixty years that had transitioned into Regionalism. He had grown up in a world where Canada, Mexico and the United States were 'the big thing', while shaky ties to 'Greater Europe' managed to help keep the North Western Hemisphere present in global decision making. That fell apart when the UN Dissolved toward the end of his high school years. Things had become harder in the work force for anyone with only a high school degree.

By the time his parents had given him an ultimatum (and a demand for monthly rent), Logan was out of options so when he saw an advertisement during a commercial break while he was playing his favorite sim game, he realized he had to seize the opportunity: a prominent North American Alliance think tank had been approved to move forward with human trials for their brain scan technology and they needed volunteers. The fact that they were paying $5,000 for an afternoon of participation was definitely not something Logan could pass up.

The closest procedure site for the trial was two towns over but he convinced his mother to give him money for the bus and he spent his first day out of the house in nearly a month. The ride over was fine; it was at a time of day when public transportation was not heavily in use. He got to the testing site with almost a half hour to go and so he was able to take it easy until his name was called. The room they led him to was unimaginably complex.

He was met by a team of technicians; one was a biologist, one a computer engineer and the third was biomedical technician. They gave him the participant number of 4747 and explained the process and that they would start with a simple blood draw. The technician handled that part; she was pleasant enough, and reminded him in many ways of his sister, though she was closer to his brother's age. They talked briefly, but it was mostly just for the sake of passing time and Logan couldn't even remember what was discussed when she left, letting him know that he'd have a short wait before everyone returned to do the scan.

It was over an hour in total, but Logan was just fine waiting. Having had the foresight to wear his VAN-4 visor glasses to the appointment meant that he had full access to his mobile gaming system. Sure, most of the real gamers were using a VAN-6, but the old model still worked well enough for him and, he reasoned, he hadn't had the money in quite awhile to upgrade. Smiling to himself as he worked his way up the scoring ladder on one of his favorite time-waster augmented reality games, Logan reminded himself that he could afford the VAN-7 after he was paid out for the experiment.

The timing of the specialists' return couldn't have been better; he had just beaten a level and was able to save his game when the doors opened. The biologist went immediately to some kind of advanced console station while the engineer and technician approached him with something that looked like a pasta strainer with a number of wires connecting it to what appeared to be a car battery, or, at least something which resembled one. He couldn't resist. "You're not... gonna shock me or anything, are you?"

The biologist accepted the metal strainer from the technician. "Don't worry 4747... you won't feel a thing."

He offered a friendly smile. "You can call me Logan if you want."

Rather than acknowledge his statement, the technician simply held her hand out. "We'll need you to take off your visor please. The scan needs to have uninterrupted contact so you can't be wearing anything on your head or face while we run the scan, but you'll get them back right after we're done... Logan."

Smiling at the fact he was able to get her to use his name, the young man did as was requested. Logan was good at following directions and obediently surrendered his glasses, mindfully watching as the technician placed them off to the side on a surgical steel tray. At first, the young man thought how funny it was that they were going to be putting some kind of dish-wear on his head but the novelty didn't last for long.

As Logan watched them work, the technician took it from the biologist and turned it over, pulling what looked like the headgear for some kind of diving suit out of it; the stretchy polymer that comprised it was interrupted at regular intervals by the wires. From there, they untangled the copious amount of wiring and finally approached him. The biologist directed him "Just sit still... this is finely calibrated equipment and we have to make sure it's on you correctly."

He fidgeted as they fitted the headgear on him, talking to one another about the fit, acknowledging that some-letter-some-number scanner was in place and, after about ten minutes, the entire procedure began to feel tedious. Feeling the boredom growing, Logan finally breathed a sigh of relief as the three specialists drew back, apparently content with their work. It was the computer engineer who addressed him once they were all standing back behind a very blatantly placed yellow line on the floor. "Alright... we are going to begin the scan. You may hear a light hum--"

The biologist interjected "--and if you feel a tingling in your teeth that is perfectly normal as well."

It was the technician who spoke up next. "Do you have any questions before we begin?"

More than ready to be done with the experience and to head back home with five grand in his pocket, Logan shook his head. "Nah... ready when you are!"

The technician smiled, and reached up to lower what looked like a visor at first, but Logan quickly realized that he couldn't see through it. The promised hum began, and he saw a bright green light. At first, everything seemed fine, but then he felt his limbs start to go numb. Logan started to worry that shaking his head may have caused a problem, and then, just as it had started, the numbness came to an end; he suddenly felt cold-- very cold, and a little dizzy, as if his entire world had been flipped on its side. He let out a hesitant call "H-hello?"

His voice sounded wrong in his ears, almost a croak. The response likewise sounded all wrong; he didn't recognize the voice-- perhaps it was the biologist? He'd barely heard the man talk. Either way, the answer was comforting. "You are welcome to sit up, 4747. The procedure is complete."

Logan was confused for a second time; he had been sitting up when they began the procedure. As he sat up, he also realized that he was not in a chair; he was laying on some kind of padded operating table. "What the heck?"

Looking around, Logan realized that, not only was he seated on a completely different piece of furniture, he was in an entirely different office-- and he was naked... and wasn't even wearing the visor they'd put on him. The voice that had greeted him spoke up again from the side. "You may be a little groggy and some confusion is to be expected. Your clothing is to your right, 4747."

Rubbing his face, Logan found the sensations brought on by it to be almost alien. He did it again to see if it would create a more comforting result; thankfully it did. Turning to the surgical stand to his right, he found that his clothes were indeed waiting for him, and even appeared to be freshly laundered. As he dressed, Logan paused; the shoes he had were the same ones he'd worn in high school and the treads on the bottom were almost worn all the way through, but the ones he found in the stack looked brand new... in fact, all of the clothes did. He looked up and around the room. "Hey! Are you sure these are--"

His voice trailed off into nothing as he looked at the many windows on the far wall; Logan was looking straight out into space, and the rightmost window had a sliver of the Earth in view. "Uh... what?"

The door to his left opened, sliding into the wall, but Logan was far more intent on looking at the window or, more specifically, out of it. Moving to get a better view, the young man placed his hand against it, gazing out into the dark blackness beyond. The owner of the voice moved into the room. "It appears you are fixated on the understanding that you are in space."

It was a rather casual response to such an unbelievable reveal. Turning to regard them attendant, Logan came to a complete stop; the individual was several inches taller than he with almost gray skin and the young man fell backwards, staring up at it with his arm held out defensively. "Y-you... you aren't Human!"

Logan stared at the being before him— he couldn't call it a 'robot' despite it definitely being artificial, but he had a hard time parsing exactly what it was, despite an eerily-competent copy of a human, so much so that it somehow managed to skip the uncanny valley while still not being exactly 100%. Even as he stared, five letters appeared above its head.

TIBOR, it's name was— his heads-up-display had notified him. TIBOR smiled, reaching out a hand to help the surprised human up. "Salutations, 4747, unless you would prefer Logan Bradshaw. I am pleased to see that your reconstitution has complete. By now you it appears you are familiarizing yourself with your new body. I trust that your ocular enhancements meet your approval?"

Logan was still trying to figure out what TIBOR meant by 'ocular enhancements' when he realized that he was not wearing the usual VAN-4 optical visor he normally had on which provided his HUD— was he SEEING one without them? "What— did you do to my eyes?!"

The young man held his hand up in front of his face, blocking out his view of TIBOR and, he noticed, the HUD responded to his digits by blocking out the name that floated above the robot's-- or, ANDROID, rather-- head. His VAN-4 didn't acknowledge obstacles to what he was seeing and usually the indicator either appeared superimposed over whatever was blocking it or else winked out completely; what he was seeing didn't match what he was used to with Augmented Reality.

Still offering a hand out to Logan, TIBOR remained right where he was until the young man hesitantly extended his own; the android hauled him up with no effort whatsoever. "Your eyes were not available, Mr. Bradshaw, thus nothing was done with them."

The Human didn't quite like the answer. "What in the hell do you mean? I'm looking at you with them right now, and it's like someone stuck an AR visor into my head!"

TIBOR gently reached out and dusted Logan off. "Your eyes are, in fact, completely new... as is your body. You were provided standard upgrades which combine biological and artificial systems. Augmented Reality Visors have been outdated for quite some time, thus there was no reason to replicate one to include with your clothing."

Logan didn't like being called 'behind the times'. "Sure, it was a VAN-4, but it's not THAT outdated! VAT Inc is still updating its OS and I just--" He froze. "Hold on... did you say that you DID put something in my head?"

He began feeling his face, hands moving around to the sides of his head before one went to the top and the other went to the back, not exactly sure what he was doing but feeling for any tactile proof that someone had conducted brain surgery on him. TIBOR remained casually impassive in front of him, face eerily inexpressive as it stated "Technically, Mr. Bradshaw, nothing was put into your head; your skeletal structure was grown around your enhanced nervous system."

He froze, one hand still on top of his head while the other was stuck to the base of his skull, palm against the top vertebrae of his spine. "Grown? What do you mean grown? What did you do to my body?"

TIBOR raised one arm and lowered the other, gesturing and, as Logan watched, an AR screen appeared facing him. As TIBOR spoke, what looked like a medical chart and fully body scan appeared on it accompanied by rapidly shifting statistics and labels; although all of it was far too quick to read, the young man somehow managed to process it all. TIBOR, nevertheless elaborated, explaining as much as what Logan had just seen. "Your body was unrecoverable but the DNA records stored alongside your brain scan allowed us to reconstitute a corpus for you."

Logan had a hard time processing what he thought he was being told. They had made an entirely new body for him and used the scan they'd taken to bring it back to life? Just how did the test mess things up? And what was with that word TIBOR used. "Corpus?"

TIBOR rotated the wrist of his upper hand and the AR screen displayed between his hands changed, revealing even more information which the android also narrated. "Corpus refers to the shell, chassis, body or physical form other than simple storage for the Sum."

"Some what?"

The android offered a pleasant smile. "I apologize, Logan; you misunderstand. I am not referencing the word 'some', as in s-o-m-e; the word 'sum' s-u-m in this case is a play on words coined by the technicians who created the first cognitive transfer procedure allowing minds to be stored and relocated. The word 'sum' is in reference to the 'sum of all thoughts and feelings' and the latin word 'sum' which, in English, is the statement 'I am.'. This is to reference all non-physical components that makes you."

He was so stunned by what he was hearing that Logan could only answer with "What?"

TIBOR had seemingly infinite patience. "I understand that you are confused. Many other Sums which have been stored for a lengthy period have also taken some time to comprehend the changes. The important thing is that you may take comfort in knowing that you have acclimated to your new body with an excellent synchronization."

The young man took in a deep breath and let it out, raising his hand up to look at it. "What do you mean 'new body'? This is MY body."

The android blinked, turning both of its palms toward himself; when it did so the AR screen flipped, facing TIBOR instead. The information changed. "Logan Bradshaw, born 2098, scanned 2122. No major medical procedures on record. Sutures, anterior of the left leg, inferior to the patella." TIBOR looked past the screen and right at Logan. "Mr. Bradshaw, would you please reveal your left leg?"

The young man wasn't about to lower his pants but, fortunately he wore loose jeans so he was able to hike them up enough to reveal his knee. "What are you talking about... you mean the scar from where I--"

He froze when he saw no sign of the stitches he received when he was nine. The scar had always been slight and it had grown even fainter with age, but he'd noticed it that very morning when he was getting dressed before going to the clinic! TIBOR clarified "Your OLD body had received treatment for a laceration. This body has not been harmed and, therefore has no scar from an injury. Just like your eyes, the rest of your body is new."

Logan slowly sat down; there was no chair near him so he plopped right down onto the carpet. His mind jumped through numerous hoops trying to come to grips with what he was hearing. The clinic had made an entirely new body out of the data they'd collected from his blood; they had transferred his thoughts from his old body to a new one; he was talking to a robot; and he was in SPACE. "What... the... fuck?"

TIBOR lowered its arms and took a step back. "I can see that you are still having complications as it relates to cognitive dissonance. Perhaps context will be helpful. Your Sum scan was complete and uncorrupted, as were your DNA records. The Reconstitution Initiative selected you as a candidate to receive a new body and you were approved for a Corpus replacement"

The explanation really didn't offer any answers. "But WHY?"

The android walked over to a desk at the corner of the room and retrieved a chair. With furniture in hand, it returned to where Logan was seated and placed it on the floor across from him, and sat down. "Mr. Bradshaw, your previous body was destroyed in The Final War in 2124. Creating a new Corpus for you was the most effective way to house your Sum."

Feeling like he would have fallen over had he been standing, Logan felt compelled to stand. He took a step closer to the windows, placing a hand against it; the glass was cold to the touch. Staring out at the Earth far below him, it started to make sense. "They said the weapons-- all of those would make it impossible to live on the Earth. They said that if we had a war it could end all life on Earth and it wouldn't be habitable for... like... a hundred years."

TIBOR inclined his head, nodding in an almost puppet-like manner; Logan was able to watch the android's reflection. Slowly standing, it stated "Two hundred and fifty on the low estimate, correct. Hence the term 'Final War'. While the scientists did not overestimate a worst case scenario, it was fortunate for everyone that the severity was not as intense. It did, however, create an end to Humanity."

Logan's head snapped back as he stared incredulously at the android. "But... I'M still here. I'm not the last Human, am I?"

TIBOR blinked. "You are not. Although there was extensive loss of life, survivors did ultimately recover. The additional upgrades and changes to the styles of Corpi have come to expand what makes a Human a Human, thus the term which has been embraced is 'Trans-Humanity'. You are a member of Trans-Humanity."

The young man's attention returned to the blue marble outside the window. He spoke over his shoulder at the android. "The scientists said if those weapons went off the Earth wouldn't be able to be inhabited for a long time... how much longer until we can go back?"

"If that is what you wish, you will be able to return once you have an updated passport and a new System Identifier Number. The Earth was deemed habitable two hundred and forty seven years ago."

At first, Logan misunderstood what the android had said and he thought he would never be able to set foot on the land in his lifetime, but the word 'ago' bounced around in his head for long enough that it finally sank in. "Wait-- you mean that the war was more than 250 years ago?!"

TIBOR spelled it out with almost ruthless bluntness. "The Earth's resettlement happened two hundred and forty seven years ago; the Earth was uninhabitable for four hundred and forty five years ago-- the year is 2727 and we are currently six hundred and two years beyond the Final War."

Logan felt faint; he'd never fainted before and, for a split second, wondered what it would be like but, just as he was getting fuzziness around the edge of his vision and feeling light-headed, yellow letters appeared across his vision, declaring 'ADMINISTERING SELECTIVE SEROTONIN RE-UPTAKE INHIBITOR' and he almost immediately regained his senses. Blinking away the fuzziness, Logan let out a breath "Okay... so that was a thing."

The android attending him slowly stood up. "My scans of your vital functions suggest that you are exhibiting signs of an anxiety attack. I have notified someone to come address your concerns. While we await assistance, may I please suggest that you attempt to breathe in as slowly, deeply and gently as you can through your nose?"

The unshakable, straight-forward monotone TIBOR continued to use had not originally agitated Logan but, as the time he spent with the android progressed (along with all of the surprises dropped on him in rapid succession) the young man was starting to get frustrated. Regardless, he leaned against the wall and, as instructed, took in a deep breath slowly through his nose. TIBOR nodded. "Good... now please breathe out slowly, deeply and gently through your mouth... try to take as long to empty your lungs as it took you to fill them."

Logan was ready to make a snide remark after his third set of breaths (with TIBOR continuing to guide him with each one) but, before he could, the side door to the large room opened and the young man was joined by another attendant. Although dressed in what looked like a simple, cream-colored hospital attendant's uniform, the nature of the woman's presence was anything but casual-- she wasn't even Human!

Wherever the new attendant wasn't clothed she was covered in fur-- red, black and white fur. She stood almost as tall as Logan but she also had a long, volumous tail, perky triangular ears and a distinct muzzle. Her aquamarine-colored eyes even had slit pupils; she looked in all ways like a humanoid Fox, and her tail even flicked in greeting as she spoke. "Hello Logan... welcome to the 28th century."

The young man almost tripped over himself as he took a step back. He had trouble finding his voice as he sought the right question and he smacked himself mentally when the one that came out sounded stupid the moment he said it. "Are... are you an ALIEN?"

The Vixen chortled; it almost sounded flirty (he smacked himself mentally again) and she took a seat in the chair once TIBOR had vacated it. The android answered his question. "No, Mr. Bradshaw. Ms. Star is a trans-human as well, like yourself."

The newcomer giggled anew and patted the android on the forearm. "Well... not EXACTLY like Logan... my corpus crafter was an artisan while his came out of a replicator. And it's just Star, Mr Bradshaw-- no 'Ms.', please."

Logan remained too stunned to formulate a suitable sentence. "Corpus crafter? Replicator? I don't-- what do you-- huh?"

TIBOR spoke frankly. "Although his current status does not suggest it, I assure you, Ms. Star that Mr. Bradshaw's synchronization between Sum and Corpus is well within the acceptable limits."

The young man finally managed to string together a semi-coherent collection of words but he again found himself wanting to stick his foot in his mouth when it came out. "Your name is... uh... Star?"

She covered the end of her muzzle with her paw, tittering. Leaning forward, she unbuttoned her blouse enough to give him QUITE a view of human-like cleavage but, he realized, she was motioning toward a white spot of fur between and above them. Even as he felt his face grow as red as her fur she sat back in her chair. "Yep. Star... these days we may or may not stick to the same name we're born with."

"I... uh... yeah... I guess not."

Logan sighed inwardly at his continued lack of social capability; it was going to be a long day.