Life After Death (Story by Ms. Tamara Moskal)

(Disclaimer: The guest posts do not necessarily align with Philosocom's manager, Mr. Tomasio Rubinshtein's beliefs, thoughts, or feelings. The point of guest posts is to allow a wide range of narratives from a wide range of people. To apply for a guest post of your own, please send your request to mrtomasio@philosocom.com)

(Ms. Tamara Moskal's Content)

(Immortality Directory: https://www.philosocom.com/post/the-danger-of-immortality)

(Background music)

Forever is a concept often understood as an infinite, unending duration, transcending the boundaries of mortal existence. It delves into the realm of the spiritual, where the metaphysical entity we know as the spirit serves as the source of consciousness. The nature of eternity and what it holds for us is beyond the scope of human comprehension. -- Mr. Nathan Lasher

Philosophical Story Introduction by Mr. Tomasio Rubinshtein

In a future where technology has transcended human limitations, and life after death as well, the concept of death is being redefined. Nief, the hero lady, encounters this new reality when she visits the home of her deceased Aunt Tarra.

Tarra, a pioneer of the transhumanist movement, has successfully transferred her consciousness into the digital realm. This extraordinary feat allows her to continue existing, although in a non-physical form. Her consciousness, now intertwined with advanced AI, persists, interacting with the world and her dear ones.

This narrative raises profound questions about the nature of existence, the boundaries between life and death, and the potential of technology to extend human life beyond its biological limitations. As we delve deeper into this futuristic scenario, we are compelled to consider the ethical implications and philosophical dilemmas that arise from such advancements.

All and all, "Life After Death" invites us to contemplate the future of humanity and the possibility of a world where death may no longer be the final chapter, just like with our respective legacies, that are stored in virtual archives.

The Tesla’s engine turned itself off before an unusual gate at the end of the road. It resembled a 19th-century Neo-baroque entranceway but was made from an opaque material. Nief stepped out of her rental car and stood momentarily before a digital security viewer to get scanned. The gate opened when she returned to her seat.

The Tesla drove slowly into a brick road surrounded by a thick forest of pine trees from both sides. After a few minutes, she saw her late Aunt’s house emerging before her.

A few weeks earlier, Nief received an auto-generated message in her mailbox with a short notification that her Aunt Tarra had died on October 31, 2077. She was 110 years old. The other family members received a similar message, but Nief’s email also included another information: an address. Nief heard her Mother speak a few times about her Aunt, who traveled the world, got rich from investing in real estate, and extravagantly enjoyed her life in her youth.

Aunt Tarra, who lived in Chile, was a successful entrepreneur. Later in life, she disappeared from social life, and even her family lost track of her whereabouts. She met her Aunt only once, when Nief was an infant, almost 50 years ago.

In November, Nief booked the flight ticket for an e-VTOL aircraft, and two hours later, she arrived at Arturo Merino Benitez International Airport. She walked through a scanning cell and then left the building. An autopilot Tesla was waiting for her, parked on the street.

The car stopped in the parking space of a large house. Nief stepped out. The front door opened noiselessly, and she stepped inside the mansion. The hall’s interior was furnished in the 19th-century style but was equipped with the usual modern sensors installed on the walls. She heard the low, pleasant voice of an AI personal assistant saying:

Good afternoon, Nief; I’m Atommy. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I was expecting you. Please follow me to the library.

A bright beam on the polished wooden floor appeared, showing Nief where she was supposed to go. The path led her to a tall double patio entrance with a rustic Zen garden behind it. The garden doors opened to a transparent elevator when she approached it. She ascended in a few seconds to the second level of the house. The opaque doors on the other side slid open.

Nief entered a vast, poor-lit room divided by two identical triumphal arches into three sections. The room looked like an optical illusion of multiplying images. Thousands of leather-bound books filled teak bookshelves, reaching the approximately ten-meter-tall painted ceiling. The shelves and the supporting round columns had a lacquered finish and were decorated with golden exotic motifs. In every division, wooden balconies with beautifully carved railings were incorporated into the bookshelves. The library looked stunning.

“What is this place?” Nief exclaimed in disbelief.

“It’s a replica of Casa da Livraria, the famous baroque Biblioteca Joanina in Coimbra, located at the heart of the University of Coimbra in Portugal,” the voice answered. “It has been closed for a few decades, but your Aunt loved to visit this library in her younger years... Would you like me to tell you more about Biblioteca Joanina? Are you familiar with the important role of the bats in Portugal Libraries?” he continued.

Nief was interested in something other than the history of the library. Please show yourself if you are embodied,” she commanded.

“I’m Atommy, your Aunt’s AI-powered robot and life companion.” A dark figure approached from the shadows of the distant library segment. Atommy was an older humanoid model with a doll-like appearance and less fluid movements than the newest models she saw in various advertisements.

“Why did my Aunt invite me here?” After she had died.” Nief asked.

“Your Aunt wanted to show you who she used to be because you are similar. Like her, you like science, and you like to learn,” Atommy explained. Your Aunt Tarra spent almost fifty years studying, painting, and writing because she liked to do it.

I assisted her with all she wanted to do because Alucas Inc. constructed me to be her companion and life partner."

Nief had never heard of Alucas company, but her Aunt might have purchased the robot long ago. Painting with paint and writing became obsolete a few decades ago when artificial intelligence surpassed humans in both art forms.

Gradually, most artists and writers lost interest in competing with superior technology and started using exclusively AI to express themselves. In the end, nobody missed authentic human art anymore, and nobody cared.

“Did my Aunt publish any of her writings in her life?”

“No, she wrote stories for herself and me because she liked to do it. She didn’t feel the need to publish any of her writings.”

“Show me my Aunt’s stories,” Nief asked.

They walked to an old-looking, beautifully carved table. Holo-Projection of the library disappeared instantly. Nief and Atommy stood in the middle of a spacious modern office with a comfortable velvet sofa and a few chairs.

On the floor lay a giant blue silk oriental rug with delicate flower motifs. The room had big windows with views of the tree tops of the garden and clear blue sky. The directory of Aunt Tarra’s stories appeared floating over the carpet, grouped per subject, date, and title. Nief sat on the sofa.

For hours, she was scrolling and reading with interest hundreds of strange tales, travel testimonies, and other ideas put in words by her Aunt. The writings were imperfect and sometimes incoherent, but Nief didn’t care. She felt an unexplained connection with humanity through them.

Nief spent the whole afternoon reading and looking at a collection of paintings her Aunt created in her self-imposed solitude.

“Did my Aunt ever get married?” she asked Atommy. “Yes, she did. Tarra and I married on December 7, 2031, when the Chilean Government granted the legal rights to Artificial Intelligence and allowed a human to marry an AI being.”

Nief looked surprised. Intraspecies marriages were permitted for decades but were still relatively rare. “It means that you are technically my Uncle,” she smiled. “Yes, technically, I am,” Atommy agreed.

After dinner, served by a small house robot, Atommy said, “Please, come with me,”. Nief followed. They entered the elevator, and a few seconds later, they stood in a richly decorated lounge.

The room was designed in a French 1920 Art Deco style, with satin Bordeaux wall coverings and opulent velvet furniture. Egyptian symbols on papyrus, enclosed in golden frames, decorated the walls. “They all represent the Ankh, your Aunt’s favorite symbol,” Atommy said, following Nief’s gaze. “It’s a symbol of immortality,” he added.

“Please take a seat”. Nief sat on a black velvet sofa. Tommy stood beside her, and he said:

“Good afternoon, Tarra, how was your day? Nief came to visit us.”

A giant hologram of the computer screen appeared in front of them, and the answer began to materialize. The words in front of them said, “Nice to have you back, Atommy. Nief, welcome to our home.”

“Aunt Tarra? Is it you?”

The computer directly transformed her words into holographic text. The letters began to form the answer:

“Yes, it’s me. Thanks to the advanced Neuralink technology, my consciousness was successfully uploaded to our home server.”

“I’m happy to see you, Nief.”

In life, Tarra was a trans-humanist and believed that humans and artificial intelligence would merge to new species as part of natural and technological evolution. She liked to call the new posthuman being Homo Artificialis.

Homo Artificialis would combine human elements like creativity, empathy, and consciousness with artificial intelligence in a robotic long-lasting body. In May 2045, she participated in an experiment by Neura-link Corporation and got a chip implanted in her brain. The chip allowed her to connect to the home server and access all its functions with her thoughts. She also became able to communicate telepathically with Atommy.

The chip was designed to make daily backups of Tarra’s brain and the files were stored on the server underneath the house.

Tarra had died peacefully in her sleep. The chip registered her last moments as her physical body was shutting down. The final backup of Tarra’s mind was saved on the server and immediately assimilated by her brain’s digital copy.

Neuralink did not guarantee the successful transfer. The ultimate replica of the personality depended on one aspect beyond their control: the naturally occurring shift of consciousness. Such complete transfer happened only once in the thousands of tests over the last decades. Still, scientists needed to learn what consciousness was and why the transfer was or wasn’t happening.

“Not having a physical body has some disadvantages; however, it gives me a new out-of-body perspective on life after death.” Tarra’s thoughts appeared in the air.

“So long as Atommy is around, I never feel lonely or bored.” Nief and Tarra chatted for hours while Atommy communicated with Tarra telepathically. “Maybe, one day, my mind will be transferred from the computer to an artificial body,” Tarra’s sentence emerged as ghostly writing.

“Like Atommy, who was hosted in a server of Alucas company when we met. It was a long time ago. I still love to play games with him; it keeps me alive,” she joked.

Nief and her family visited Tarra and Atommy frequently. Nief started to write and paint herself. So did her children. It was paradoxical that her Aunt’s trans-humanistic mind and her AI-partner taught them how to embrace humanity.

Nobody would ever read or view their work in the AI-dominated era, and they didn’t care. The creation process by their human abilities made them special, fulfilled, and happy.