There was a chuckle on the other end, followed by a short silence. “I phoned my wife.”

“How did that go?”

“I wish I actually had a fatal disease, Doc. At least then, I could say goodbye properly, I could explain to her what’s happening to me. This…this just leaves me hanging. No resolution. I almost wish I hadn’t made the call.” There was a moment of silence. “I’ve talked to her several times since, but I’ve got nothing new to offer, and there’s no resolution that I can see. I might as well be lingering in a coma in a hospital bed. I’m no use to her, I’m making her life hell, and I’m keeping her from having a life.”

Kemp nodded, silent. He’d been around for too many deaths, watched too many family members trying to wrap their minds around the abrupt passing of a loved one. He’d also seen too many instances of people being given bad news—something lingering, something with an indefinite conclusion sometime in the future. Persistent comas, dementias, cancers, neurological degenerative diseases, all ultimately death sentences. In some ways, that was worse.

Ivan moved to fill the conversation gap. “I heard the Consolidated Industrials ship confirmed all details of the claim.”

“Yep. Escrow’s been removed, funds are released. We’re all rich. Including your family. Captain Jennings asked his lawyers to make sure it got taken care of properly.”

“Good. I’ll have to thank him if I talk to him. If I don’t get a chance, let him know I appreciate it, okay?”

“Will do.”

The conversation ground to a halt, as tended to happen with people who weren’t at ease with each other. After a moment, Kemp said, “Anyway, Ivan, what were you going to tell me about?”

“I’m starting to know stuff.”

“Huh?”

“You know all the tip-of-the-tongue stuff that I couldn’t put my finger on? Some of it’s starting to gel.”

“Okay, that’s interesting. So the nanites are telling you things?”

“Sort of. There’s a computer in here with me. Or an A.I. It’s sort of both, and neither one. I’m running as a program.”

“You’re what?”

“I’m a program. Or an emulation. I guess that shouldn’t be a surprise, really. There isn’t a human brain in here, and Ivan Pritchard was an entity who grew up on a specifically wired set of biologically-based neurons. The computer, or whatever it is, simulates the human brain, neuron for neuron, impulse for impulse, and there I am. Possibly with some improvements, since I don’t need to sleep anymore. This is pretty standard A.I. stuff. I mean, I’m sure this version is way more advanced, but the basics are the same as what we learned in Computer Science classes.”

“Okay, but the bottom line is you’re still you.”