The following a short story written for my college final. It is lossely based on the world of the Black Mirror Episode, "San Junipero" and follows the protagonist, "The Citizen" as they find themselves suddenly lost in a world with no memories or sense of self and infinite tools to sculpt their own identity. The story explores the idea of identity detached from physical reality and life in a purely digital space.
NOTICE: The Estate of the Citizen has requested that the legal identity of the Citizen be kept private. The various digitally created identities of the Citizen are, however, permitted to be released ONLY in the context of the published documents and are not referenced outside said published documents. From here on, this individual is to be referred to by the article authors only as the Citizen.
Since its creation, the algorithms of Digital Consciousness Simulations (DCSs) rely on memories to formulate digital placement. As such, they are not designed to support the situation of memory-affected individuals, those suffering from memory related mental disorders. This became an issue following the passing of 2039's Memory-Affective Death Provision Act which legalized the entry of memory-affected U.S. citizens into DCSs as a death provision. To compensate, a committee of DCS developers released the open source identity creation software, GeneSys, which allows individuals with memory-affected death to create new digital identities in real time within DCSs.
However, other digital afterlife simulation citizens have reported major, and in some cases severe, psychological distress in the presence of GeneSys users. In response, 2047's Public Equanimity Protection (PEP) Act was passed. The PEP Act gave legal precedent for major cities to prohibit the use of such software tools for reasoning of public health safety, forcing many memory-affected citizens of the simulation out of major cities. The lives of these citizens have been largely undocumented and under studied.
We, the DCS Open Press (DCSOP) Foundation, have come in possession of written records of a memory-affected citizen of the TCKR Systems' "San Junipero Plus" DCS imprisoned on July 16th, 2048 for a violation of the PEP Act. These documents contain journal entries and personal letters of the Citizen seized during the arrest. Said documents were turned over to the Estate of the Citizen. The Estate has generously given the DCSOP Foundation permission for publication. With the release of this article, we will have the first accounts of citizens with memory-affected death released to the general public. The following are the documents left by the Citizen:
The Journal
The following are a series of journal entries written by the Citizen between the years 2041 through 2048. Only a select few were made available for publication by the Estate. Please note, the entries are released in the order in which it was given by the Estate of the Citizen with no alterations. The order does not reflect when the entries were written nor the chronology in which the events took place.
ENTRY #1 - SOUTHFORD
I remember white walls, yes, but also the beeping tone. It hurt like mallets against the eardrum. Shockwaves crashing down every nerve. Knocking even a fragment of thought down against its rhythm before it could ever reach contemplation. It would go to hit its one note crescendo moments later deafening any noise of the before, if there ever was any. Yet, though gentle, a silence crawled. A subduction over oppression. Consuming not just the noise, but covering the self in a cold blanket of infinite. That is, the deliverance placed by realms of all that is hoped to come, and all that never was.
It came as a surprise then, when the silence retreated into the eternity where it had birthed. The deafening sound, gaining distance below me, transformed into a railway screech. I was in a train car. As I scanned my surroundings, no one was around me, only the stained, scratched metal walls of the train car interior with equally conditioned metal hand poles and blue seating. There were a couple of product posters between the windows, many covered in graffiti. There were a couple of map screens by the exit doors, although there appeared to be no other stops than here. The screeching stopped and the train car jerked back in a halt. Two final soft tones played as the doors slid open revealing a station full of people looking in my direction. That was my introduction to this city, Southford.
ENTRY #2 - SAN JUNIPERO
Ben was crying again. Charlie, who just woke up from a nap, went to check on his crib. She gently held and rocked him. It was around three in the afternoon and she was waiting for William to come home so she could switch turns in taking care of the baby. After taking care of the baby, Charlie would have to take the car to pick up Chris from school, who was staying late for an art club meeting.
About twenty minutes passed and William was not home yet. Charlie, pacing back and forth through the kitchen, could not shake the thought of something bad happening to him. She was fidgeting with her hands very aggressively, with her breath drawing shorter. Eventually, the doorbell rang. It was William.
"I'm so sorry, honey. They needed me to stay late in the office."
"It's okay, babe. Things happen", Charlie said with a sigh of relief.
"You seem a little shaken. Is everything okay?"
"Of course, of course. I was just a little nervous 'cause you never called."
"I'm sorry. Do you want me to pick up Chris so you have some time to relax? I could take Ben with me. We could have some father son time, ya know". William laughed a little but stopped immediately when seeing Charlie's expression.
"I can pick up Chris, it's okay"
"Are you sure?"
"Of course, just stay here with Ben and maybe start cooking the pasta for dinner. Okay?"
"Okay honey, drive safely." With this, William gave Charlie a kiss before she would go on her way to Chris' school.
Charlie drove up to the school entrance in the family's old red pickup truck. It's been passed down for generations through William's family. Despite the wear and tear the vehicle has faced over the years, it's been very reliable throughout all the time they have had it in their company. Chris especially loved the truck, and always came with a big grin whenever Charlie came with it to pick him up from school everyday.
As Charlie waited for Chris, she stared out the car window and saw a couple of children playing at recess. Most of the children appeared to be playing tag in scattered groups while a few were sitting down playing what looked like duck duck goose. This one girl, who was playing tag in a group, would trip. Charlie winced. It appeared to be a bad fall. The girl’s ankle was twisted and she could not stand. Classmates were screaming and closing their eyes at the sight. A woman, presumably her teacher, approached her calmly. She had a roll of bandages that she wrapped around the girl’s ankle.
It was then that the girl stood up and began to play tag with her friends, running after them as if nothing had happened. The children, who were once scared and concerned, were now playing, also as if nothing had happened. It was at this point that Charlie got out of the car, in confusion, and approached the school. There was this feeling. This uncomfortable feeling. She approached the school and looked inside the front doors. It was empty. No children. No furniture, only white walls. Charlie began to feel sick. She would turn around and see one of the teachers. Before Charlie could get out a single word, the teacher spoke.
"What are you doing on the school property?"
"I am waiting for my son, he was here for-"
"You are not allowed to leave the vehicle, ma'am."
"Excuse me?"
"Please return to your vehicle."
"I need to get my son!"
"Please return to your vehicle."
"This doesn't make any sense."
"Please return to your vehicle."
The teacher repeated this phrase over and over again. Charlie, backing away, would make her way back to her truck. After this, disillusioned by the experience, Charlie drove away from the school. Before leaving, she caught a glimpse at the teacher. The teacher, who seemed horrified, was trying to run after her, this time, muttering something different from the phrase she was repeating before. And as Charlie began to drive away, all the light in the world around her faded to black. When the light faded back in, she was in a bedroom. She looked at the nearby window, it was boarded up by bricks. She tried opening the bedroom door, but it too, was blocked by bricks. Overhead, on the wall opposite to the bed, a large LED sign hung. It read: "The Assimilation Protocol has been violated. Please wait while the system re-adjusts placement."
ENTRY #3 - MARIAROSA
Last night, my mind wandered. I opened my eyes and every surface was smooth white with an ethereal glow. I looked to the side of me, and Marianne was nowhere to be seen. Everything I touched felt of splintered wood. After I rose, I made my way out of the bedroom to find the doorway opened to the beach where we first met, but covered in the same material as the bedroom. As I stood on the beach, I felt a tug pulling down every inch of my body. Then, though gentle, skin would begin to peel away, falling in layers and disappearing under the beach's white glow. Everything inside of me suddenly felt heavy, until everything bundled together by skin and bone, all the meat, would fall away onto the floor. Only bone remained, and I stood there motionless for three sunrises. I had never felt so cold under the California sun.
I tried to move, but only could spasm the fallen muscles caught beneath the glow. After the third sunrise, the bones would fall, and I would be left a ghost, completely detached from the self. This time, when I moved, I could feel a numb static envelop the space where my limbs would be. At this moment, I began being moved forward weightlessly by the wind until I reached the white water ahead. I started to fall. I was to be consumed. At this point, however, I woke up from my wandering. I could feel the mattress spring below and Marianne cuddling my arm next to me. And since then, I think, "Oh, how they taunt me. What sin must I have done to have stripped the human luxury of death?". Is that a selfish thing to consider?
ENTRY #4 - SOUTHFORD
Andrew's arrival was more sudden than the others that left the train cars that night. He did not know where he was nor did he know of himself. When one enters this place without knowledge of oneself, the self is lost forever. As such, the essence of Andrew did not exist for the first few days of his arrival. He was immaterial and could not interact with the material world. Only after a week would the material of Andrew'' person begin to manifest.
He was an adolescent and with a scrawny frame neighbors would refer to as being made of "skin and bones". He was pale faced with dark, brunette hair and blue eyes that sparkled in daylight. With two weeks passing after the arrival, Andrew fully materialized and was finally able to interact with the material world. Any person who enters here is given housing. So in Andrew's left pocket, he would find a key to apartment 245 in the Southford rent-free apartment complex five miles from the station. Upon his arrival to the apartment, he locked himself in for the first few nights until it became unbearable. He could not process the experience he had just had and under what circumstances had he arrived here. Sooner or later, loneliness fed on his mind until he gathered the courage to step outside the apartment and engage with the new world around him. Andrew would look around the apartment hallways, which stretched in both directions an indeterminable amount.
There was an open door in the distance that caught Andrew's eye. He went to the door and walked inside. Inside was an older man who sat on a sofa reading a magazine, presumably unaware of his entry. It wasn't until Andrew sat next to him would the man look up to Andrew.
"I don't assume you've heard of knocking", the man said gleefully as he let out a hardy laugh.
"I'm very sorry. The door was open so I assumed you were welcoming visitors. Were you disturbed?"
"Not at all. I just don't get a lot of visitors these days is all."
"How long have you been living here? And where exactly is here?"
"Oh dear. You must be a Gen. We don't get too many around here. They mostly live in Mariarosa."
"Gen?"
"You are in Southford in San Junipero. Well, the renovated San Junipero Plus if you want to be specific. It is a proposed digital paradise for the dead and their visitors. Well at least it's a paradise if you pay the extra thousand to be placed in the big city. Otherwise you're stuck in these dumps until you either join the years-long waitlist or enter through... what we would consider not so legal means."
"So hold on, are we dead?"
"Well I most certainly am!", the man exclaimed with the same laugh as before. "I'd be a hundred and ten if I was alive right now. As for you? You appear to be a Gen."
"What is a Gen?"
"Gens are people who come in here not knowing a thing about who they are or where they come from. Tell me boy, do you remember anything before you got here?"
"Not really."
"Then you are most certainly a Gen. I don't know an awful lot about Gens, but if you're curious you should really go to Mariarosa. I'll give you directions". The man leans over to grab a pen and a yellow notepad. He scribbles down a list of directions and addresses. He hastily tears off the page and hands it to Andrew. Before Andrew could ask another question, the man goes back to reading his magazine.
ENTRY #5 - MARIAROSA
I focus on the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the sand. There isn't much that I look positively on here. But the beach, the natural sound of the beach, gives me comfort. It's been a few months since I moved here. Now, sitting at Centrock Beach, I've come to appreciate a few parts of this place, even if it's a simulation. I've even gained a couple of companions, those being Ralph, Lawrence, and Marianne. They are Gen, just like me. It has been a good change of pace. I never thought I would be able to find a group of people who understood me and that I could relate to in a place like this.
"Aren't you coming, Stacy?"
"I'm right behind you", I called out to them.
We were heading to visit one of Marianne's friends, Edward. I've been told he is a very strange guy with an even stranger collection of art. He holds a gallery out of his garage and according to her description, it's supposed to be this incredible experience. Not being the most artistically inclined myself, I very much doubted it. Especially for a garage gallery. However, I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt because more often than not, she was right.
Edward was indeed a strange man. However, I was not prepared for the amount of strangeness this man exhibited. Edward was tall. Very tall. Almost doubling my size, he was over eight feet tall. Bizarrely, his skin appeared to be made of some kind of snake-like material. It was very scaly. I was not sure what I expected to see before I met Edward, but it certainly was not this. Edward then gestured for us to enter the garage. He wanted to show us the gallery.
Just like Edward, the weirdness of the gallery exceeded my expectations of just how strange it would be. Once we entered, the door where we entered disappeared and the walls seemed to wrap into themselves. When you looked one direction, you could see the back of your head ahead of you in the distance. The room felt so small yet looked so big. Edward proceeded to give us a guided tour of the place.
"Here is the GenMan". The piece in question was a silhouette of a man on a black canvas. The silhouette in question was a dark blue, but notable, was a darker shade than the pure black around it, almost to an impossible degree. It would turn out that in fact, many of these art pieces would have this quality, as Edward would introduce us to the next one.
"This one is Guided Angel". This piece was a realistic, Renaissance style painting of an angel in a church. Unusually, there was no way to tell the size of the angel, as the size that the angel appeared in remained consistent regardless of how close or far you were from the painting.
"How does it do that?" I asked Edward, confused.
Edward laughs.
"This gallery uses a modified version of the GenSys source code that was leaked in the meatspace. We got someone there on the outside to bring it in for us. From there, with a little tweaking, we were able to create all kinds of digital tricks which you see in this garage."
"The meatspace?"
"The meatspace, ya know? Like the land of living flesh, the real world. We had a good amount of people out there on the outside when we first started. But most of these meatspace folk turn out to be bastards, ya know?"
"Why do you say that?"
"They just don't respect us, ya know? This is our home, our lives, and to them it's just some game. We're just some mindless characters. When it all goes to hell here, they can unplug and go on with their lives, but it's us that live with the mess and the consequences. Try talking to them and they just don't take us seriously. We had to kick 'em out for good after their shenanigans got Ozzy caught by the SJPD. We can't live like that."
Edward would lead us out of the gallery. Marianne would stay and talk to Edward while Ralph, Lawrence, and I would start walking our way home. On our way we discussed the gallery and the pieces we viewed.
"How do you really think he did the Guided Angel painting, cause I don't buy the GenSys explanation", Ralph started.
"I think it's exactly how he said it was. We don't know a lot about GenSys or how it works. Heck, we don't even know how we got here." Lawrence rebutted.
We all went silent.
"I'm sorry I know it's weird to talk about. I shouldn't have brought it up."
"It's fine, don't worry. We’ve all been here long enough. I think we can talk about it", I said trying to relieve the awkwardness of the situation.
"I question a lot. About why I would have decided to come here. About how a normal death would have been. And how this would be if we weren't Gens. What if we were who we were and lived that life until it ended?", Lawrence asked.
"I wouldn't worry about it," Ralph replied. "There's no real use anyways."
"Yeah, I guess so," Lawrence replied.
We would go silent again just as rain would begin to fall. It was the first time since last year. Walking uphill towards Lawrence's house, we saw the rain flow down the sides and onto white rooftops below. The droplets of rain on the roof reflected the white below and looked like clumps of snow. Meanwhile, if you look on the slanted roofs, there's a sea of white water rushing off. Mezmorized, we sat on the side of the hill watching the water off the roof for hours into the night until the rain would stop.