Echoes of Grace singing, memories and emotions, clashed with the doctor's words.Dans un sommeil que charmait ton image
Je rêvais le bonheur, ardent mirage..."I know you've signed the waivers, but I need a verbal confirmation," she was saying. "Do you understand the procedure?"
Tes yeux étaient plus doux, ta voix pure et sonore,
Tu rayonnais comme un ciel éclairé par l'aurore...Sylvie nodded. It was strange not to feel her hair, always so frizzy and buoyant, not following the motion a scant second too late.
"I'm sorry, Sylvie, it needs to be a verbal confirmation. The uploading process will be fatal and irreversible. There is some risk, about one and a half percent, that it won't work." The doctor paused and picked up a pen. She added, "Won't work after the point where your body will have died, that is. Do you understand?"
A swallow, dry, and another nod. "What will happen in that case?"
"Your family will receive a payout of ten million francs CFA. Your body will not be available for a burial, unfortunately." The doctor looked strangely abashed. "The results of the process are...ah, not pretty."
"Après un rêve", a story by yours truly, will be appearing in Clade: A Post-Self Anthology, out August 1!