Henry and a man approached the towering structure known as The Institute of Science and Innovation. The building's sleek, modern design was a stark contrast to the surrounding historic architecture, its glass façade capturing and reflecting the vibrant hustle of the city streets below.
As they stepped through the revolving doors, a rush of cool, sterile air enveloped them. The receptionist at the front desk, with a polished smile, handed Henry a sleek, black access card. "Welcome back, Mr. Garibay," she greeted him warmly. "Your class is in Room 215 today. The card will grant you access."
"Yes, I know, Layla," Henry replied with a wide grin. "That's where I’ve stored my finished project," he thought to himself. He could barely contain his excitement. Today was the day he would have his project signed off for the science fair. There was no way Marisol wouldn't fall in love with him after he won, he mused.
The receptionist's eyes flicked to the other man. “I’m sorry, but I don't have an access card ready for your friend. If you just give me a moment—”
“I’m kind of in a rush, Layla. Couldn’t I just escort him around? I need him for my presentation.”
“Hmm… let me just make a quick call to upper management,” she said, her fingers already dialing a number.
Henry turned the card over in his hand, feeling its smooth, substantial weight. It was more than just a piece of plastic; it was a gateway to the institute's vast reservoir of knowledge and innovation.
“Okay, Mr. Garibay. You’re good to go,” she said, her smile bright and welcoming.
“Thank you, Layla,” he replied with a determined sigh, finally able to move forward.
Henry and his guest made their way to the elevator and rode up to the second floor. They walked down the corridor, Henry’s heart racing with anticipation, until they found Room 215.
As they entered, they were greeted by the sight of a sprawling laboratory brimming with high-tech equipment and students engaged in conversation at their workstations. Glass cabinets lined the walls, showcasing cutting-edge technology and numerous awards the institute had earned for its scientific contributions.
Henry set his belongings down at a workstation and began prepping for his big presentation. He felt a surge of exhilaration as he saw his science project at the front of the class, covered in a white cloth, ready for the grand unveiling that was about to take place.
Henry eagerly shared minor details of his project with his guest. However, as his words trailed off, the man's thoughts began to swirl.
He had come here seeking an end, a release from a life that felt unbearably heavy. Was this truly what he desired?
He remembered the countless nights spent staring at the ceiling, consumed by an ache that wouldn't fade. The voices in his head whispered relentless doubts and the memories of his friends faded like old photographs, their faces blurring as time marched on. Would they even notice his absence? He could almost hear their laughter, but it felt distant, like echoes in a cavern.
A few minutes later, Professor Nicanor walked in, his brow furrowed in concentration.
His neatly groomed grey hair, thinning at the crown, emphasized the contours of his balding head. His face had a fullness, free of any facial hair, and despite being 73 years old, there was still a spark of vitality in his deep-set eyes.
As he moved about the lab, his open coat fluttered slightly, revealing a subtle belly protruding through his well-tailored baby-blue shirt. His dark tie and sharp brown slacks were complemented by a pair of shoes that shone with meticulous care, each step whispering long-forgotten elegance.
“If your name is not Henry Garibay,” he thundered, his voice resonating through the room, “leave immediately.”
The students hurried out, leaving Henry and his guest alone with Professor Nicanor. The professor looked at him and said, “The floor is yours, Henry,” as he took a seat at the front of the class.
Henry approached the front, adjusting his glasses with his guest following closely behind.
They stood next to the covered science project, and Henry began his presentation. "Good afternoon, Professor Nicanor," he said, his voice tinged with nervousness.
"Good afternoon, Henry," the professor replied, leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other. His perpetually stern expression had given him a reputation for always looking angry. "Please, begin."
"Yes, of course. Today, I am thrilled to introduce you to a groundbreaking invention that stands at the intersection of science and the metaphysical. I call it the Soul Separator, Replacer!" he said, gesturing to the covered object behind him. "I'm still working on the name," he added, his uncertainty evident.
"Imagine a world where the boundaries of life and death are no longer confined by our physical bodies. A world where our very essence—our soul—can be transferred, preserved, and even switched between bodies."
Professor Nicanor, his curiosity now piqued, sat upright in his chair. Seeing the professor's keen interest, Henry felt a surge of confidence. "Have you ever felt like you weren't in the body you're meant to be in? Or perhaps your body is failing due to a devastating disease like cancer. My invention can extract your consciousness, preserve it, and transfer it to a healthy vessel. This isn't science fiction, Professor; this is the future we are unveiling today."
With a dramatic flourish, he pulled away the cover to reveal two sleek, futuristic pods, standing back to back and illuminated with soft blue lights.
"Behold, the Soul Separator, Replacer! This state-of-the-art device preserves the human body in perfect condition through advanced cryopreservation techniques. But its true marvel lies in its ability to perform consciousness transference."
Henry moved closer to the pod, his voice electric with excitement. "This is how it works: A person steps into the pod, and using advanced neural mapping and quantum technology, their consciousness is meticulously extracted and stored in the database."
The Professor arched an eyebrow, skepticism etching deep lines into his face. "While I am intrigued, Henry, I must put an end to this immediately."
"No, no, please hear me out!" Henry implored.
"No," the Professor retorted, standing up and buttoning his lab coat. "What you're proposing ventures into dark science, and I cannot endorse it."
"Please!" Henry begged, his voice filled with desperation. "I swear there's good in all this!"
The Professor's gaze locked onto Henry, a low, disapproving rumble emanating from his throat. He knew he could never approve of such a groundbreaking invention. Yet, his curiosity was undeniable. "You have one minute," he said.
Henry nodded. "Once the consciousness is extracted, the preserved body stays in an optimal state, ready for future use. Touching on what I mentioned earlier, if someone’s body is failing due to an incurable disease—we can preserve that body until we find a cure. Then, we simply re-transfer their consciousness back into their cured body. It's similar to how we store photos in the cloud: your consciousness is uploaded and preserved, ready to be downloaded into a healthy body when the time comes.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Henry’s guest stood on the other side of the invention, a knot tightening in his stomach as he watched the professor's skepticism deepen. Doubts gnawed at him—would his sacrifice truly save someone? And what was this about being stored in a database?
He had thought this experiment could be a way to escape, to give his life meaning in death. But now, seeing the professor's reaction, he questioned everything. Was he merely a pawn in Henry’s desperate quest for approval?
Henry continued, “This invention not only challenges our understanding of life and death but also opens up new possibilities for medical science. The Soul Separator, Replacer is not just a machine; it is a gateway to a new era of human existence,” he concluded.
Professor Nicanor folded his arms, his eyes narrowing in contemplation. "Let's assume your invention works," he said slowly.
"Oh, it does," Henry replied, his voice brimming with confidence.
The professor's eyes widened as he snapped his gaze back to Henry. "Henry! Don't tell me you’ve-"
"I haven't conducted any human trials, if that's what you‘re asking," Henry interrupted. "But the machine did work on a cat and a dog the other night. I was planning for a human trial at the science fair. A live demonstration, if you will."
“Absolutely not.”
“But, professor. I need this,” Henry pressed. “It’s all I've worked on all year. I don't have anything else to show.”
“Henry, you’re redefining what it means to be human. This isn't something you showcase at a science fair. People would never accept it. It could tarnish our reputation as a whole.”
“What if I promise it’s for a good cause?” Henry pleaded, his voice filled with urgency. “It’s Marisol’s dad,” he added, almost in a whisper.
“Marisol?” the professor exclaimed, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Now that you mention it, I haven’t heard from her in a while.”
"She's been out of it lately," Henry confided. "Her dad was diagnosed with cancer, and she hasn't been the same since. So I thought, what better way to win her heart than to save his life right in front of her eyes?"
"No, Henry. This is preposterous. Does she even know about this?"
"Well, no, but who would say no to having a healthy body?"
"Henry, this isn't ethical. How would you even find a body to house a dying person’s consciousness? The body would need to be vibrant, in perfect health, and free from any life-threatening conditions. Who in their right mind would willingly sacrifice their own life for someone else’s?"
Henry's smile turned sinister. "See, that's exactly where I was stuck too," he admitted, beckoning his guest to come closer. But the man seemed too afraid and hesitant to move. "Adam, come over here and introduce yourself," Henry insisted.
Adam finally approached, his steps slow and reluctant. He raised his hand timidly, barely managing a soft, "Hi."
Henry's smile widened, clearly relishing Adam’s discomfort. “Adam here is in perfect health—no life-threatening injuries or diseases whatsoever. I made sure of it. And he has volunteered to save Mr. Medina by switching places with him. Haven't you, Adam?”
Professor Nicanor’s brow furrowed in confusion. “You can't be serious.”
Adam struggled to find his voice, stuttering as his eyes welled up with tears.
“Adam was kind enough to put others before himself,” Henry cut in, silencing Adam before he could speak. “In the name of science, he said he’d like to donate his body.”
“Is this true, Adam?” the professor asked.
Panic surged through Adam as the Professor’s words hung in the air. This was not what he signed up for. He hadn’t agreed to become a lab experiment. ‘What have I done?’ he thought, his heart racing. His throat felt dry as he opened his mouth to speak. He wanted to shout, to run, but instead, the words came out in a shaky whisper, “I think I've changed my mind.”
“What?!” Henry snapped, giving him a hard stare. “We had a deal!”
“Yes, but this is not what you promised me. You agreed to end it all, but now you're saying that I'll be living in a machine until I can get the right body?”
“We don't have to put you in a body at all!” Henry suggested, his voice rising with frustration.
“What the hell is going on here?” the professor demanded, his voice filled with bewilderment.
Adam looked at him with a pained expression, his voice barely a whisper. “He put out an online ad searching for anyone ready to, you know, end it. And I thought I was ready, I really did,” he confessed. “He even said that my death would help bring life to someone else. But he never mentioned I'd be stuck in a machine! That honestly sounds scarier than just being alive.”
“Good God, Henry, what were you thinking?” the professor exclaimed, eyes wide with disbelief. He then turned to Adam, gently pulling him closer. “Look, go out to the receptionist and ask for Pamela.” He handed Adam an access card with a reassuring smile. “She’s a wonderful listener and will help you feel better. Go, she’ll guide you down the right path.”
Adam closed the door behind him as he left the room. The professor then turned to Henry, his eyes widening in shock as he saw a knife pointed at him.
“I suspected he'd flake,” Henry said, advancing toward the professor with a sinister grin.
“What are you doing, Henry?!” the professor panicked, stumbling back.
“Listen,” Henry snarled, his voice dripping with menace as he forced the professor toward his invention. “You’re right. No one’s willing to trade their life for someone else. The world’s too selfish now. Take Adam, for instance. He’s probably going to go off himself anyway. That's got to be the height of selfishness, don't you think? Knowing he could've saved someone who actually wants to live. But you, Professor, you’re going to do the right thing, aren't you? Oh yes, you’re going to be a real hero this weekend.”
“What!? What are you saying?!”
“Get in the pod,” Henry demanded, brandishing his blade fiercely as he herded the professor like a sheepdog.
When the professor neared the pod, Henry swiftly waved his blade near his face, causing him to trip and fall inside. “Don’t worry; I’m sure my new invention will work.”
“No, please! I have grandchildren!” the professor cried out, frantically trying to get up.
“Then I’d suggest you cooperate, and maybe one day you can get a new body of your own.” Henry laughed maniacally as the chamber closed with a hiss.
Henry felt a surge of adrenaline as he watched the professor desperately try to yell for help, his cries silenced by the soundproof pod. The weight of the moment pressed down on him. This was it—the culmination of all his hard work, the chance to prove himself. He took a deep breath and flipped a switch on the control panel.
The machine hummed to life, lights blinking in a mesmerizing pattern. The pod vibrated slightly as it activated, and a soft whirring filled the air. Panic crept into the professor's expression as he frantically banged against the glass.
Ignoring the professor’s desperate pleas, Henry focused on the controls. He had spent countless hours preparing for this very moment. The display lit up, indicating the machine was ready to extract consciousness. The professor’s body began to float, suspended in the pod, and Henry's heart raced as he pressed the final button to initiate the extraction process.
A low hum intensified as the pod began to fill with a translucent liquid, causing the professor’s body to float gently within it, his expression shifting from panic to shock.
Streams of light danced around the pod, enveloping the professor in a halo of energy. Henry watched, entranced, as the machine began to extract the professor’s consciousness. The professor's body relaxed, floating eerily in the liquid, while a swirling mist formed above him, signaling that the transfer was underway.
Henry's heart raced, an intoxicating mix of fear and exhilaration coursing through him. He was about to do the unthinkable.
In moments, the extraction was complete. The professor’s body remained suspended, serene, and motionless in the pod, while the swirling mist hovered above it, pulsing with a faint, rhythmic glow. Henry felt a thrill of triumph. He had done it; he had successfully transferred the professor’s consciousness into the machine.
With the task halfway complete, Henry hurriedly pulled the tarp over the pod, concealing the machine and the professor's suspended form from view. He couldn’t linger; he needed to get out before anyone arrived.
Just as he turned to leave, the sound of footsteps echoed from the corridor outside the classroom. Henry’s heart dropped. He had to act fast. He pushed the covered pod toward the door, the wheels rolling quietly across the floor.
He opened the door slightly and peered out. The hallway was empty, but he knew he couldn’t waste any time. He slipped into the corridor, pulling the tarp-covered pod behind him, his pulse racing as he tried to stay calm.
Just then, a group of students rounded the corner, laughing and chatting animatedly. Henry’s heart raced as he quickly ducked behind a nearby wall, clutching the pod close to him, praying they wouldn’t notice.
“Hey, did you hear there’s a new project in Room 215?” one of the students asked, glancing in Henry’s direction.
“Yeah! I think there’s supposed to be a presentation going on right now!” another chimed in, their voices growing louder.
Henry held his breath, straining to listen. “I hope it’s not another one of Garibay’s wild ideas,” a third student said, chuckling.
The group continued down the hall, oblivious to him and the secret he was hiding. As soon as they were out of sight, Henry exhaled sharply, feeling the tension ease just a bit. He resumed moving, carefully maneuvering the covered machine down the corridor.
Every step brought the risk of discovery, but adrenaline drove him forward. He reached the nearest elevator, his mind racing with thoughts of what he had just done. Just as he was about to enter, he spotted a janitor approaching with a pushcart. Panic surged within him. He quickly shoved the pod into a narrow alcove, pulling the tarp tightly around it to conceal any signs of the machine.
“Hey, Henry! Everything okay?” the janitor called, a friendly smile on his face.
“Yeah! Just… uh, roaming around!” Henry replied, forcing a grin as he stood awkwardly, blocking the view of the alcove.
The janitor raised an eyebrow, clearly curious but not pressing. “Alright, just make sure you ain't making a mess out here!”
“Of course not!” Henry said quickly, hoping to deflect their attention. He felt sweat trickling down his back, anxiety clawing at him, but he maintained a facade of calmness, smiling as the janitor nodded and continued on their way. Once they were out of sight, Henry let out a shaky breath, his heart pounding in his chest.
He glanced at the alcove where the pod lay hidden beneath the tarp. He couldn’t afford to lose his nerve now; he had come too far. He quickly pulled the tarp tighter and wheeled the pod into the elevator, praying that no one would notice the strange bulk beneath the cover.
When he reached the ground floor, Henry weaved through the bustling crowd of students and faculty, striving to blend in. He kept his head down, eyes fixed on the exit ahead. Each step felt like a small victory, as he reached the main doors.
He paused, scanning the area outside. It was nighttime already, and the street was a symphony of city sounds. The sky was a deep, velvety black, dotted with twinkling stars. He took a deep breath, feeling the cool night air fill his lungs, ready to make his escape.
With one final glance over his shoulder, Henry pushed the pod into the open air, his movements swift and deliberate to avoid drawing any unwanted attention. He wheeled it toward the side of the building, where his old van was parked earlier that day.
As he reached the vehicle, a mix of relief and triumph washed over him. He’d done it. He had extracted the professor’s consciousness and now just needed to figure out the next steps. He hurried to open the back doors of the van, glancing around to ensure no one was watching.
"Come on, come on," he muttered under his breath as he carefully maneuvered the pod into the back of the van using ramps. He made sure it was securely placed and covered, not wanting any accidental bumps or jolts to disrupt the delicate state of the machine.
Once the pod was stowed away, Henry slammed the doors shut and rushed to the driver's seat. His hands trembled as he gripped the steering wheel, the reality of what he had just done washing over him. There was no turning back now.
He started the engine.