Posts: 4
*Disbelief. That's one way to put how I felt when it happened. Refusing to believe that the child I had held in my arms was no longer moving. Could no longer move. Only a day previous she had been running, laughing, looking, asking questions to satisfy her deep curiosity. Now my little girl was dead. How exactly do you expect a father to react to that?
For a long amount of time, I don't know how long, I'd simply remained there, kneeling upon the ground, cradling her lifeless form in my arms, unmoving, my mind as blank as her once-vivid green eyes. I heard nothing, felt nothing, saw nothing but her body, so cold, so empty.
So wrong.
How could he have done this? What did she have to do with our deal? Why was she punished for my failure?
When finally my senses returned, I held her close and wept. Some time after that, I resolved to fix this. She didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve to have her life ripped away from her so soon. I had the resources. I had the technology. I had the knowledge. I could fix this. I had to. And I knew just how to do it.
Firstly, I had to make schematics. The entire process would take time, I knew, and I needed her body intact. I set about placing her within multiple scanners, collecting important data and creating wireframe images of her body, muscles, skeletal system, and organs. This would have to be perfect, and I would have the scanners work multiple times until I was certain there were no errors present.
Then, the most delicate procedure... Scanning her brain, converting her knowledge and memories to data. The most delicate, and easily the most important; this was, after all, how my beautiful Gracie would continue to live on.
Not once had I ever thought, "This is unethical, this will not be my child, but a mere copy." When you're a mourning father, consumed with grief, you would do anything to bring your child back, wouldn't you? I'd have sold my soul to the darkest of gods if it could bring her back, but fortunately for me, I had a much less drastic method of bringing my daughter back from the dead.
The cerebral scans were flawless, converting every last ounce of knowledge, every single memory, into data. I also had scans conducted upon her cerebellum to preserve her motor skills up until her death, and these too were flawlessly converted to data. I knew this would go well. And that gave me both hope and focus.
I gathered all the resources necessary, synthskin, biofibers, various electronic systems, bonemer for the skeletal structure. And then I began to craft her. Began to build her skeleton, around which I would reform her body. It was a tedious process; a mold had to be created, for each bone, and these would have to be connected with synthetic ligaments to keep the skeleton together. Simultaneously, her biofiber organs and muscles were being crafted according to their schematics, built to the proper size and shape. They were interwoven with electronic systems that would connect to her new brain, which I would personally oversee separately.
When these were complete, it was her brain that I next endeavored to recreate. It would have to be manually connected to the digital "spinal chord" once completed, and this was a process I was going to make sure was done perfectly. The brain was only a brain in appearance; in actuality, it was a computer in disguise, a data center governing the actions of her body. Similar to a brain, it was divided into many sections that each focused on a specific set of functions. Added to that her knowledge, memories, and cerebellar activity, and she would be a perfect replica. She would live on as she once had...
When her body had been assembled apart from her outer layer of skin, I had seen to it that the brain had been properly inserted into her skull, connected firmly to the spinal chord, and nestled snugly within her cranium. Then, the final step, her skin. Some would think this to be a simple step, but they underestimate the complexity and the beauty of the human skin. It had many layers, many shapes, many forms. It had to be shaped perfectly, and the mold was in place. A tedious process, one I yet again ensured was carried out perfectly, down to the smallest detail.
It took me months, but at last, there she lay, perfectly assembled. Even at close observation, I could tell no difference between her and the daughter I once held and loved. But of course, this was the same daughter! I wanted to activate her just then, but I held myself back. I needed to run a final set of diagnostics before I knew she was ready.
And her body... Her original body... I very well couldn't bury it, not on Helska IV! I could cremate it... but I could never bring myself to do such a thing, even to a past shell. No, I simply decided to leave the body in suspended animation, putting it away, out of sight; my poor Gracie didn't need to see what had happened to her. Didn't need to know...
As I returned to the laboratory, I scanned the diagnostics' results as they flashed upon the screen. Checkmark after checkmark in my mind. Not a single hitch in her systems. All systems were responding perfectly. Brain activity was stable. And as the final diagnostic result appeared on the screen, I smiled to myself, holding back tears: My Gracie was ready to live again.
I turned towards the console. One press of a button, and she would live again. I licked a bead of sweat off my lip, unaware until just then that I had indeed been sweating. She couldn't see me like this. Quickly I removed my glasses and folded back my sleeve, wiping my face dry with the inside of it. I looked into a reflective surface to see what I looked like, if I looked presentable, only to take note of the unshaven beard and disheveled hair. I suppose I had not focused upon personal care as much as I had my darling daughter. No matter. If she asked, I would tell her I had been more concerned for her than I had been for my own hygiene.
Which of course, was the truth.
I took a breath and then sharply exhaled, mentally preparing myself for this. This would be the first time I'd interacted with Gracie in months. It would be welcome, it was something I eagerly awaited. My hand shook as I lifted it, and, seeing that I could not steady it, I bothered not as I simply depressed the button, the one that would signal Gracie's now-electronic brain that it was time for her to awaken. I folded my hands behind my back, approaching the table where she lay.
And then she opened her eyes.*