Transference
A Sci-Fi short story.
This is the short story that got me back into writing prose. When I was in my 20’s I had a few brushes with the ‘almost’. I almost had a feature film script go into production and then I almost had a comedy series picked up by BBC Comedy. The failure for any project to actually materialise hit me hard and I pretty much hung up my pen for good.
Then I came across the Create 50 short story competition. It’s a fantastic way for amateur writers to get their work seen for the 1st time, the idea being that the best 50 stories are compiled into a published work.
I remember I only had a few days left to enter, so I wrote this story in less than a few hours and sent it in without much hope that anything would come of it. Not only did it make the 50 finalists, but it somehow also won this lovely award…
It’s a very short short story, so should only take you 5 minutes to read! Hope you enjoy it!
Audio Narration:
It felt like falling on the edge of sleep. Passing through his own body. Then a violent jerk, and he woke. Back to reality. His reality.
Alex Vanguard opened his eyes. He recognised the nurse standing over him, but she was different. Cleaner, sharper. He noticed her perfume for the first time. When she spoke, he was startled by the volume of her words, so resoundingly clear.
“What is your name?” she asked.
“Alex Vanguard,” his own voice felt alien. It was youthful, the gravel gone.
“When were you born?”
“April 4th. 1945.”
“Do you understand the procedure that has taken place, Mr Vanguard?”
Behind an opaque screen, his mind recovering from the transference, Alex Vanguard became aware of a conversation drifting over him. He wanted to open his eyes and find out where he was, place his body in the space. His skull felt numb beneath the moist cap that clung to his shaved head. His fingers pawed at the crisp linen, its unique texture jolting his memory. At once, he fully understood what he'd done.
Did she call it Mr Vanguard? He was still here. Still facing his inevitable end, the crushing realisation that life would not be eternal for him. Only a shadow would live on. The shadow he could now see sitting up behind the screen.
“Can you stand, Mr Vanguard?” said the nurse.
“Stop that...” Mr Vanguard's breath was weak but the nurse fell silent. She crept into his view.
“I am sorry... Mr Vanguard. I was going through procedure.”
She walked over to him and carefully removed the cap. He shuddered as the upload severed, the feeling that part of his mind was left in the tube, like dregs of water in a hose.
“I can take your reproduction to another...”
“No,” Mr Vanguard interrupted. “I want to see what half my estate is worth.”
She returned to the edge of the screen.
“Mr... Alex. Would you please come round?”
Mr Vanguard watched the shadow stand and move. Its frame tall and straight; more so than he had ever been. Then it stood before him, like a mirror to the past. A past free from blemish. A residual self-projection that Mr Vanguard imagined he could once have been. It was perfect.
“Turn around,” said Mr Vanguard.
Alex laughed. “Certainly.”
Alex turned on the spot with the agility of a dancer, exhilarated by his own movement. Mr Vanguard let his eyes feast on the tight skin rolling over the hairless curves, reflecting light like a glow from within. For a moment he forgot that he was still trapped inside a dying vessel and let his thoughts indulge the very idea of being that beautiful creature.
“Leave us,” Mr Vanguard instructed the nurse, who immediately obliged.
Alex stepped closer to Mr Vanguard. “Well, how do I look?”
Mr Vanguard shrank as it approached, “Like a dream I once had.”
Alex's eyes opened wide. “Yes... yes that's exactly how it feels.”
“Who are you?”
“I'm Alex Vanguard,” it replied.
“That is my name! I earned that name...” Mr Vanguard choked on his words.
Alex tried to make his new face show compassion, but was finding it almost impossible not to exude the exhilaration pumping through him. He wanted to run, jump, fly! He lightly stroked the old man's crumpled skin. It felt different from the outside. It was repulsive.
“Of course. It must be difficult,” said Alex.
“If you understand how this feels, then why the shit-eating grin?”
Alex filled his lungs to capacity.
“Because I'm free. Free from that decaying shell. I want you to know that I'm not going to waste this. Any of it! It's all here, all of you. Us! Everything we know inside this...”
He looked down the unfamiliar body, letting a finger stroke the newborn flesh, pausing on the tight white cloth that was covering his genitals. He wanted to get his cock out, but that somehow felt incestuous.
“I'm going to fuck beautiful women. And eat what I want, drink what I want, go wherever I want. I'm going to piss without leaking in my underwear.”
Mr Vanguard pulled his thin arm away from its touch.
“You tease me?” he said. “Remember I own you.”
“Yes. And you could end me if you chose to. You have that power,” Alex could easily pander to him. Of course he knew that's what he wanted.
The old man collapsed. His body caving inwards on itself. He could feel the weak heart inside his chest, barely beating. He closed his eyes. He'd never felt this tired. He just wanted to sleep now, for it to be over. But he could have no peace while it was there in the room. Knowing only too well what it was planning to do with the lifetimes that lay before it. The immortality he had chased his entire life was made real, but not for him. His money, his home, his prestige. Everything he had worked for given over in an instant. There had been no gratitude. Only mocking. He despised it.
Alex walked the cavernous room, marvelling at the baby-soft soles of his feet on the polished surface. Clean white infinity gave way to an entire windowed wall. A cool crisp light wrapped him, inviting him out there amongst the towering chaos and endless possibilities. He had lived in this new world for the last three decades as a tourist, confined to beds, pushed in chairs, fed mush and pills. On the edge of death for so many years, kept alive long enough to reach this ultimate goal. It had been worth it. He was the first of his kind. He would be a King. No, a God. Alex chuckled to himself. The painting would not grow old in the attic, it would die in that bed. And soon. He could still recall the breath all but leaving him. But how easy it was to forget. Now there was only a hunger in his belly. An appetite that craved to be satisfied. He would devour life. No more soup. Ever.
The nurse ran into the room. The lights on Mr Vanguard's life support were blinking erratically. She quickly scanned the holonostics. There was no further action to be taken. Alex was watching with intent. Soon his new life would truly begin; he could barely control his excitement. The Nurse turned to Alex. He gave her a nod of affirmation, trying to go for a statesman-like soberness. He waved her away with a hand.
Alex sauntered back to the bedside. He had all the time in the world. He would savour this, just like he would savour every moment to come. How often does one get to watch oneself expire? Mr Vanguard opened his eyes and looked upon the smooth round face above him; a cherub of death. He tried to speak but the words fell back into his throat. Alex leaned in close until his ear was touching Mr Vanguard's lips.
“I'm... afraid, Alex.”
He felt utterly alone. Seeking comfort from a version of himself. But it was still a comfort. The idea that something was there to witness the end. He hoped it remembered how much he had dreaded this moment. Surely it understood the sacrifice. It would tell him now that it owed him everything. That's what he would do.
Alex turned his head so that his clear white eyes were locked with the milky yellow of Mr Vanguard's. He watched a tear build and then fall, rolling over each wrinkle until it settled in the pool of his ear.
“I'm not Alex, old man. I'm Mr fucking Vanguard,” he whispered.
Mr Vanguard took a sharp breath in. He would shout for the nurse. He would shut it down.
All it took was the soft, firm hand of Alex Vanguard over his mouth and nose to stop him.
It felt like falling on the edge of sleep.
The End
Nice work!
Brilliant. Altered Carbon and Black Mirror blended and rolled into a perfect cigar for the reader to smoke a sublime story.