Hope - Levy, Marc (web ebook reader .TXT) 📗

“I could call your dad and ask him to lend me the money,” he said as they pulled up outside Sunny Days.

“If one of us is to ask, it should be me,” Hope replied, hopping out of the car.

They sat down to enjoy their frozen treats.

“Dad will realize that time is running out. He’ll be on the first plane here. Flinch offered me a salary when he recruited me to the Center, remember? And I turned him down. Well, I’ve changed my mind. The offer should still stand, right?”

“We’re talking fifty thousand dollars, Hope. That’s way above a student salary.”

“So Flinch is the one you need to be asking for a loan. The Center has the money, and I can even suggest that Longview take legal possession of my body. Neurolink already has all my brain recordings. Doing things halfway isn’t very scientific.” She smiled. “Plus, you have to admit that Flinch probably doesn’t have too many frozen students to do research on.”

Josh promised he would talk to the professor that very night.

“There’s one thing I would like,” Hope continued. “I know you hate the idea, but it’s really important to me. I believe what I said earlier to that white-jacketed death angel.”

“What did you say?”

“That you can’t hope to reanimate what’s already dead.”

“But he explained it to us. Your consciousness can survive a few hours . . .”

“Oh, cut the crap. Nobody knows for sure, and that includes him. I’ve spent enough time playing around with molecules for you to give me a little credit.”

“Hope, come on, we’re not going to cryopreserve you alive!”

“There will come a point where the line between life and death becomes barely perceptible. It’ll happen in a matter of minutes.”

“It’s illegal to start the procedure before a doctor has confirmed a person is dead.” Josh shook his head.

“I know things that can help with that. A nice juicy cocktail of verapamil and diltiazem to dilate my arteries and slow down my heart rate, making it impossible to detect. In the state I’ll be in, any doctor would be convinced.”

“Please don’t ask me to do this, Hope. I’m not strong enough.”

“Actually, I was planning on asking Luke. But I wanted to tell you first. When I really feel like the end is coming, you’ll call Cryogenix, and just before their team arrives, Luke will inject me with the cocktail. It’s the only chance we have of this working.” Hope looked at him. “And let’s get real. It’s highly unlikely.”

It was a categorical no from Flinch for a loan. The professor reminded Josh that he wanted no part in their games, which was profoundly hypocritical of him, as he spied on their every move. He was sincerely sorry for Hope, he said, but the Center was not in a position to fund the preservation of one of their researchers’ corpses. And they definitely couldn’t get involved in their personal lives.

Josh replied by saying that Longview burdening students with loans that would take them years to pay off was most certainly getting involved in people’s lives, but Flinch wouldn’t budge. He could look the other way for some things, but this was his line, and he wouldn’t cross it. Instead, he agreed to write them a check for $4,000 from his personal account, as payment for the months Hope had spent researching.

The friends met at the loft the following weekend. Each of them had turned out their pockets, and all finances combined, they had managed to scrape together just a tenth of the sum. They still needed $45,000.

Sipping at her tea, Kasuko had an idea. They could launch a fundraiser online. These platforms let online users contribute to personal projects, calling on big hearts and kindly souls to help make dreams come true. Crowdfunding had given young artists the means to record demos and film shorts, to go on research trips and writing retreats. So many different life projects, Kasuko mused. So why not a death project?

Luke asked Hope what era she planned on waking up in. It was a good question, but Kasuko still kicked him under the table. He responded by saying that in terms of resurrecting the dead, he thought the Neurolink strategy had a better chance of working than the Cryogenix process. And plus, the Center was free. Kasuko gave him another kick, and Josh managed to keep him quiet by saying that two options were better than one.

Kasuko and Hope set about writing up the text. Hope slipped in a few quips, took a selfie without her baseball cap, and posted her plea on a crowdfunding website. “There,” Hope said as the text appeared on the screen, “that’s done now. Let’s go get some pizza. Bart needs carbs.”

Josh tried to dissuade her until the very last minute, but Hope rallied the troops around and led them to the forecourt of the Sacred Heart church in time for Sunday mass.

Josh, Luke, and Kasuko rushed to seat themselves on the back row, and Hope knew they would do their best to slip out at the first chance they had. She sat under the pulpit where Brother Sebastian was giving the homily, the priest having come down with the flu.

The choir started up as the assembly came together in prayer, and Brother Sebastian reminded the congregation of their duties and obligations as parishioners, “in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” He told them about resurrection and the sins they would need to repent for, and as Brother Sebastian paused to catch his breath—guilt-tripping an entire church full of people seemed to require a lot of air—Hope raised her hand.

Brother Sebastian looked at her, astonished. It was the first time that one of his flock had strayed from their seat in the pews.

“Sister?” He looked at her, eyes brimming with compassion.

“Brother,” she started, “forgive me for interrupting. But if you really can converse with our Father who art in heaven, could you ask him