The Last Man on Earth [Finalize Verion]

 

The Last Man on Earth

 

Special enactment for Continuity of Human race (SCH)

1.       Every new born baby must receive a full body check before their parents took their first look of the baby, and if there are any disabilities, the baby must receive a bio-computing-organ (BCO) transplant.

2.       The record of transplant must be classified, even to the parents of the baby. Anyone who spread the information of any transplant will consider as a potential harm of the society.

 

“The sun, the red hot fireball in the sky, had been clouded by the nuclear winter’s thick and dark dust for over twenty years. Even that human has returned to the surface more than ten years, the sun still hid itself inside the cloud.” said the old man. He was sitting on a small wooden chair opposite to the food store with a dozen of children around him.

“Only 40% human survived from the nuclear war and the long dark nuclear winter, but less than 1% are still ordinary humans, in a sense, pure human. Because of BCO transplant, humans are no longer original.”

At first, I didn’t care what his story is, but still, I took a look at the old man. And there he was, an old man with white beard, a cheap cap, free tee-shirt and a pair of strange glasses.

“So do you, kids. Do you know which part of you is not original?” asked the old man softly.

The old man grabbed a young boys arm, looked right into his eyes and asked, “Will it be your arms?” Tears started to drop from the boy’s eyes. He would have a bad dream tonight, for sure.

The old man released the boy’s arms and said. “But you know, the MOST common part that are replaced were” he used his finger to point at his own head and tab it a few times, “the brains.”

A sharp disturbing sound beeped. “It’s already six, I’ve to go home. My mother is going to kill me.” A boy cried out. A few boys stood up and ran away. The old man stared at the bowl in front of him, shook his head a bit, and talked again.

“So, if we no longer have our own brain, but a Bio-computing brain,” the old man said mysteriously, ” Is that still you? Is that still a Human?”

All the kids stared at the old man and waited for the answer for that question. But there was no answer for that question. “OK, that’s all for today. Time to go home.” the old man patted his own thigh and stood up.

        “No way!” shouted the kids. “Finish the story!”

I wondered who this old man is, so, I took a closer look. When I looked at his face, O my God! It’s my old professor, Peter J. Watterson.

        “No, you kids should go home and help your mothers! Come again tomorrow, and remember,” my old professor pointed out his left forefinger, “bring me some food or some shine new coins.”

        “Professor Peter J. Watterson!” I shouted loudly. I was quite sure that everyone could hear me, yet, it seemed that my dear old professor couldn’t hear me at all. He picked up his bowl and his lovely wooden chair and walked away.

        “Professor Watterson!” I shouted again and I tried to chase after my dear old professor. “Wait, Professor!”

        When I finally caught up with him, I grabbed his shoulder and said “Professor, do you still remember me? Young Jack Johnson from Fleet City ?”

        Old professor tilted his head up a bit, and looked right into my eyes. Just the way he first saw me twenty years ago.

        “O, Jack! Of course I remember you. Well, I am a……” Old professor stopped for a while. ” I am a little bit busy right now, so, I……..” He hesitated. ”So I better get going.”

        “But Professor! Where have you been all these years?” He had gone for a long period of time. It was too long that everyone thought that he was dead. My curiosity never gave up, and usually it brought me nothing but troubles.

        “I was busy!” Shouted my old professor. He stared inside my eyes, just like he could saw though my souls. “Leave Me Alone!”

         Obviously he was hiding something, for sure. I stood there like a statue and watch him disappear inside the crowd.

        Twenty years ago, his unique point of view of technology development bring him endless wealth, the government treasure him as priceless jewels. Until he publicly criticizes against the SCH, everything changes. That could explain why a nice, talented professor will suddenly disappear one day and no one ever saw him again.

        His twenty years underground life under the SCH will be priceless too. Yet, he just disappears in front of me before we could have more rational talk. But I didn’t worry about it, because I know where to find him tomorrow.

        And this time, I won’t let him walk away like that.

        I went to the food store again the next day, with my notebook. I took the seat closest to my dear professor with a cup of tea, and listened to the stories that he told those little boys and girls.

        “Robot had been helping us for many decades, and yes there are also many cases that related to the usage of robots. I remember the story of a proofreading robot in the university.”

        “Today we give robots the proofreading job, what should we tell them to do tomorrow? Paint a masterpiece? Write a novel? Even God won’t know the answer! We, Human, created the robot to help us, but one day they might replace us.”

        “Today the robot could change some part of my book, tomorrow he might writing the entire book to replace mine. This MACHINE must be destroyed immediately, it is evil.”

       Very extreme point of view, especially in nowadays, over 95% of the new born baby are transplanted with BCO. Although the government never stage that how many brains are being replaced, rumors said that over 10% have brains replaced because of critical brain damage or missing some part of it.

        Are they human or robot? Are we killing a baby and replaced with a robot? We had to consider whether this kind of action will lead us to a point that we all become robots.

        We could easy distinguish a robot from a human in the past as they have a metal body. But now, should we consider a kid with a BCO brain as robot?

        And I wonder, among all the boys and girls gather around my old professor and listen to his story, which(s) one of them had a brain transplant?

        “OK, that’s all for today.” the old man patted his own thigh and stood up. ”It’s time to go home.” Seems that story time ended while I wonder about the brain transplants.

        “Professor, let’s go and have a drink.” I asked while he picked up his old, handmade wooden chair. “You are not too busy for a beer, are you?”

        My old professor took a deep breath, and sigh. But he still put his left hand on my shoulder. “Let’s go and have a beer,” he pointed at me with his right forefinger, “but no question asked, just drink.”

        We went to a bar near by, sat down on the table near the exit, and start drinking.

“How is Emma?” Emma was his lovely wife. I saw her once, back in university she came and pick him up for lunch.

        “No question asked!” He replied strongly.

        I didn’t say a word, but only, drink.

         “She died.” He hesitated. ”A few years ago,” He finished his beer, raised up his hand to get another one. “Maglev car accidents.” He said.

         “We were heading home after dinner. “He sighed. ”and there was….. a boy crossing the street. I try to pull up to avoid hitting him, but the car went out of control.”

         “I grab her in my shoulder, I…..” his tears dropped on the table, “we hit a tree and….”

        I swear I saw some tears within his sadness eyes.

         “If you don’t want to talk about it, then don’t” I said. He took his cap off, sipped a little bit beer, just to make himself have the courage to speak again.

         “We hit a tree, we were both seriously injured. We were sent to the hospital, I was still awake, but,” another tear dropped on the table. “but she was already unconscious.”

         “I insisted that both of us will not accept any kind of BCO transplant, even if that means we are going to die. Although the doctors accept that I refuse to have transplant, they still give Emma a transplant to save her.” He whispered, “But that was a mistake!”

         “She died right after the transplant, because of rare complication.” His tears nearly drop on the table, but this time his hand wiped it dry. “It was the BCO who kill her! All these years we had avoid any kind of body check, because we don’t want to receive a transplant, and yet, she died because of a forced transplant!”

         “I receive a few surgical operations and it took me ten months to recover. I even can’t take a look at her for one last time. Her body was sent to the dissolution stove and become atoms a week after she died.”

        “Professor, you mean that you didn’t have any BCO within your body?”

        “Kid, no question asked!” He replied strongly.

        “After my recovery, I went on a trip to visit every remaining city of human civilization,” he took off his glasses and said” with this customized glasses, I am able to know who has receive a transplant.”

        “Can you imagine that everyone has received a transplant? I mean everyone. Every single one of them has received a transplant, and over 35% have BCO brains. Those kids that you saw yesterday, all of them have BCO brains. None of them were human, they were all robots, only with flesh and blood.“

        “By the way, your arms are both BCO.” I was shocked, I looked at my hands, they felt so real, and they were sweating! “Luckily, your brain is real.”

        “The only bad thing about this pair of glasses was that it can’t see though a mirror image and detect the result. It must have a direct contact with the subject in order to detect the result.” Professor explained. “If any parts of that person are marked with red, that part is a BCO. Now, put this on.” He put the glasses on my shaking hand and said, “Tell me if I am original.”

        I slowly put on the glasses, trying to around. The man with the suitcases has a pair of red legs. The young sexy lady sitting by the bartender has a red stomach, seems that her digestive system are all BCO. I look at my hands, all I could saw was red.  

        “How was it?” Professor asked. “Just tell me the result and you can keep the glasses, it’s all yours.”

        “Hm……” I hesitated. “You don’t have any BCO at all, Professor. Not one bit.” I smiled at my dear old professor, and he smiled back.

        “Well then, you can keep the glasses. They have no use to me now. ” He stood up and put on his cap, “Goodbye kid, make sure you take good care of that glasses, it is the only pair I even made.” He went to the door and left me all alone in the bar.

        I know I will regard that I didn’t told him the truth. But why should I destroy the last hope of a good old man.

        He was, for sure, the last man on earth.

        He still is.