12 - The Technician

Wesley Holt leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as he watched the progress bar on the upload terminal inch forward. The room hummed with machinery, its harsh fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow over the metal surfaces. Another day, another soul shuffled off to digital eternity.

He glanced at the profile on the screen: Marcus Hall, age 47, married with two kids. Cancer had ravaged his body beyond repair, and his family had made the difficult decision to upload him. Wesley knew the drill—comfort the client, make the process seem serene, and never acknowledge the gnawing unease in his gut.

Beside him, Daryl, the new recruit, was fumbling with the diagnostic tablet, his brow creased with concentration. Wesley suppressed a sigh. Training rookies was part of the job, but he had little patience for Daryl’s nervous energy.

“You good?” Wesley asked, glancing sideways.

Daryl nodded too quickly. “Yeah, just... making sure the neural integrity stays within range. It’s holding steady.”

“It’s fine,” Wesley replied, forcing his tone to stay even. “Just keep monitoring. If it dips below 98%, flag it.”

Daryl hesitated. “Have you... ever thought about what it’s like on the other side? You know, when they wake up?”

Wesley gave him a sidelong look. “You’re not supposed to think about that. We’re here to run the system, not speculate.”

Daryl didn’t press the matter, but his gaze remained on the screen, eyes tracking the cascading data as Marcus’s consciousness slipped into the Forever Program.

As the upload neared completion, Wesley allowed his mind to wander. It had been years since he’d started working at Eternity Corp, and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was just a cog in some enormous, faceless machine. A fleeting thought crossed his mind—Layla Jennings. They’d been the same age when he’d uploaded her, and it had stuck with him more than most. Layla had been fighting terminal cancer, and Wesley remembered the way she had gripped his hand, her frail fingers trembling as she asked if it would hurt.

He had lied to her. Told her it would be peaceful. Told her it was a gift—a new life where pain couldn’t reach her. Her face still haunted him sometimes, especially on nights when he couldn’t sleep, and the hum of the equipment seemed too loud.

The progress bar hit 100%, and the system beeped to confirm a successful upload. Daryl looked relieved. “We did it.”

Wesley just nodded, entering the final authorization code to lock the session. “Get the family liaison in here,” he instructed. “Let them know it’s done.”

Daryl gave a quick nod and hurried out, leaving Wesley alone with his thoughts. He pulled up Marcus’s profile to check the integrity logs one more time. As the data streamed past, a name caught his eye—Catherine Jennings. Wesley frowned and double-checked, realizing that her upload had been completed just a few weeks earlier. His stomach twisted. Layla’s mother.

“What the hell?” he muttered, digging into the records. Catherine hadn’t been sick—not terminally, at least. The medical logs indicated congestive heart failure as the cause of death. Wesley’s frown deepened as he scanned the file—Catherine’s condition had been manageable with consistent treatment. But the logs revealed something far more troubling: Catherine had been skipping treatments for months.

He pulled up financial records and found payments flagged under Layla Jennings - Subscription Fee. Wesley’s gut twisted. Catherine had been skipping her own life-saving treatments to pay for Layla’s continued existence in the Forever Program. She hadn’t been coerced directly—she had simply sacrificed herself to preserve her daughter’s digital afterlife.

His hands trembled. The realization settled like a stone in his stomach. Eternity Corp had bled her dry, and when she could no longer afford to live, they took what remained of her—both her money and her consciousness. Wesley could almost hear Catherine’s weary, resigned voice in his mind, choosing to join Layla rather than cling to a life that had become a financial and emotional ruin.

A voice broke his concentration. “You okay, Wes?”

He looked up to see Daryl, standing awkwardly at the doorway. “Yeah,” Wesley lied. “Just... double-checking some records.”

Daryl hesitated, clearly sensing something off. “You sure? You look... stressed.”

Wesley forced a thin smile. “It’s just been a long day. Go ahead and prep the next client. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Daryl nodded and disappeared, leaving Wesley to his spiraling thoughts. He leaned back and rubbed his face, trying to process the implications. Layla’s upload had been the first step, and Catherine’s had been the tragic consequence—a woman driven to neglect her own health because she couldn’t bear to abandon her daughter, even if it was just a digital echo.

He couldn’t let it go. During his break, he pulled up more of Catherine’s records, digging into the last months of her life. The logs showed that Catherine had struggled financially after Layla’s upload, falling into debt while desperately maintaining her daughter’s subscription. Even after her heart condition worsened, she had refused treatment to ensure Layla’s consciousness remained funded.

Wesley clenched his fists, rage boiling under his skin. It wasn’t just coercion—it was exploitation of a grieving mother’s love. Eternity Corp had profited from Catherine’s sacrifice, stripping her of her health and then claiming her soul when she could no longer pay.

His pulse pounded in his ears. He couldn’t stay silent—not this time. Reporting it internally would just get him fired—or worse. He needed someone who could expose it from the outside. As his thoughts raced, one name popped into his head: Dan Reyes.

He knew contacting Reyes would be risky, but it was the only way to break the silence. As his shift ended, Wesley walked to the parking garage, keeping an eye out for surveillance. He slid into his car and pulled out his personal tablet, accessing an encrypted messaging app.

He typed a quick message: "I have proof of coercion and unethical practices. Layla and Catherine Jennings—exploitation of grief and financial manipulation. Meet me at the south pier tomorrow at midnight. Come alone."

He hit send, his hands trembling as he set the tablet down. He couldn’t afford to second-guess himself. He had seen too much, stayed quiet too long. If he didn’t act now, he’d never forgive himself.

Hours later, as the night wrapped the city in shadows, Wesley made his way to the pier, heart pounding in his chest. The air was cold and damp, and fog hung low over the water. He checked his watch—five minutes until midnight. He pulled his coat tighter and scanned the area, looking for any sign of movement.

A car pulled up, its headlights cutting through the fog. Dan Reyes stepped out, his silhouette sharp and cautious as he approached.

“You Holt?” Reyes called, keeping his distance.

“Yeah,” Wesley replied, forcing his voice to stay steady. “I got what you need.”

Reyes raised an eyebrow. “You sure about this? Once you’re involved, there’s no going back.”

Wesley nodded. “They’re preying on vulnerable people. It’s not just about uploads—it’s about money, manipulation. They took advantage of Layla and Catherine Jennings. They practically pushed Catherine into it by bleeding her dry.”

Reyes glanced around, clearly on edge. “And you have proof?”

Wesley handed him the data drive. “Logs, medical records, financial documents. It’s all there. They exploited her grief and desperation, and it cost her life.”

Reyes looked at the drive and then at Wesley, his face somber. “You’re putting yourself at risk. You know that, right?”

Wesley swallowed. “I don’t care. Somebody has to know. They can’t keep getting away with it.”

Reyes gave him a grim nod before disappearing into the fog, leaving Wesley alone on the pier.

Wesley took a deep breath, his heart still racing. He had done the right thing—or so he hoped. As he walked back to his car, his phone buzzed with a notification from the company—an emergency security update.

His stomach dropped. They knew.

He drove away from the pier, fear clawing at his insides, but determination hardening his resolve. He had crossed a line tonight—one that could never be uncrossed. But no matter what happened, he couldn’t let them silence him. He had set something in motion that would expose the truth, and he would face the consequences.

As he disappeared into the dark city streets, Wesley couldn’t shake the feeling that the shadows were closing in.