Duplicate

By Phoenix Ward

Upon death, the neurological data that composes one's personality is downloaded and installed onto computers in the next evolution from A.I.s. These programs are known as installed intelligences, or I.I.s, and they are the secret to human immortality. In recent years, the installation process has open up for the wealthy public as a means to keep family members alive after their body has died.

This is the story of a man who is mistaken for dead and has his mind installed before recovering and becoming the first living person with an I.I. of him or herself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Phoenix Ward
• Release date: Jan 31, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310807701

Phoenix Ward

Phoenix Ward is the author of thought-provoking science fiction and dark thrillers. The inventive mind behind A Guardian Angel, Oneironaut, the Alfred Arnold Saga, and the Installed Intelligence series, Phoenix captures the bizarre eccentricities that make reading unique. When he’s not writing foreboding tales of futures-to-be, Phoenix is an avid gamer. In fact, he is the owner and primary contributor for a video game blog called Ham Goblin Gaming. Phoenix wears pajama pants under his jeans in the winter and has a ham tattooed on his chest. He draws inspiration from such science fiction legends as Philip K. Dick and Isaac Asimov. He currently resides in Fort Collins, Colorado, USA.

Book preview

Gloria examined the different display types that the moratorium offered with a look of disdain. She didn't like how clean and sterile the place felt. It reminded her of the stories of dentist offices that her father would tell her from his own childhood. The same kind of anxiety gripped her, and when Gloria was anxious, it made her cold and a little bit angry.

The screen she liked the most was formed in the shape of a slight arc with a smaller, circular display in the center. She thought that it would have been to Chris's liking. He was always a fan of the unorthodox and the eccentric.

God, she thought, I really need to get some sleep.

Miss Santson? a gravelly voice said from behind her.

Gloria turned to look at the mortician, who had managed to slip into the office without making a noise. She didn't like that. A man of the dead was creepy enough as it was.

Dr. Stephen Hummregh was a thin man who appeared to have sharp corners at his joints. His pure white hair was gelled to the side in an attempt to cover up his balding scalp. He had rimless glasses cut into tight rectangles that sat at the end of his nose as if he were Franklin D. Roosevelt. His cheeks were sallow and etched with wrinkles that seemed to fold deeper as he spoke. The man of the dead looks like the grave himself, Gloria thought to herself.

Still, she smiled curtly. Doctor, she greeted him. Fine day.

Under the circumstances, I suppose, Dr. Hummregh replied. I'd like to start this procedure by offering you my condolences. It is never easy to lose a loved one.

It's even harder to lose a son, Gloria replied. Her face was devoid of emotion, stern as stone.

I have two myself, the mortician commented.