Do you like the classics? of Science Fiction, I mean. The old masters like Mr. H, the Zelaz, Arthur C and that guy who claimed to have invented the satellite with, really, no Foundation in truth. Right Arthur? My boys liked to bicker. One thing they agreed on, though, was you had to have an immortality story if you wanted to have any real cred. But what were they thinking? To go on like endless reruns of Friends? Or worse, Star Trek. Watch everyone you know and love die? That's why I said no when the Institute for Immortality Research told me they could "fix" my genes so that I could live for five thousand years. They sent a red head to recruit me and a marine to scare me. I fell in love with the red head and, after the marine was done scaring me, we became friends. I still said no. I had rights. Or so I thought. Of course Chole betrayed me. And Ray? Well, he tried to help me in reverse. At least Chloe gave me three steps and held them off so I could reach the fire escape. Run Eric, Run!
Do you like the classics? of Science Fiction, I mean. The old masters like Mr. H, the Zelaz, Arthur C and that guy who claimed to have invented the satellite with, really, no Foundation in truth. Right Arthur? My boys liked to bicker. One thing they agreed on, though, was you had to have an immortality story if you wanted to have any real cred. But what were they thinking? To go on like endless reruns of Friends? Or worse, Star Trek. Watch everyone you know and love die? That's why I said no when the Institute for Immortality Research told me they could "fix" my genes so that I could live for five thousand years. They sent a red head to recruit me and a marine to scare me. I fell in love with the red head and, after the marine was done scaring me, we became friends. I still said no. I had rights. Or so I thought. Of course Chole betrayed me. And Ray? Well, he tried to help me in reverse. At least Chloe gave me three steps and held them off so I could reach the fire escape. Run Eric, Run!
Chapter 1
Medical Transcription from home is just about as interesting as staring at your own face in the mirror for four hours, or watching a football game where the score is sixty to nothing in the first quarter. Itâs well paid, though, so in that way itâs kind of like the post office: The workers have great health care, a fairly comfortable wage, and all the dreams that donât include sorting mail are pigeonholed, so to speak. It useful to note that âgoing postalâ became quite a phrase back in the nineties and was used for anyone who cracked under the strain of a tedious or nasty job and killed a bunch of co-workers. This was not to be my fate, however, since I didnât have any co-workers and I appeared to be able to withstand almost unlimited amounts of drudgery and boredom. Or so I thought.
 Thatâs how they snared me.
 Youâd think a grown man would be smarter and stay out of chat rooms. But maybe it wouldnât have mattered. They (that they everyone is afraid of) would have found me anyway because they knew about my family. So, why didnât they try to get at me directly? Because they wanted my full cooperation, which meant their research was excellent. They must have known that I was one of the most uncooperative people of all time with institutions, governments, and authority of all kinds. I didnât even like the line leader in grammar school. Itâs like an allergy: politicians, bureaucrats, bossy people and bullies lead me to hives, runny noses, and force me to string together obscene invectives.
So, anyway, they tried to get to me through my favorite chat room.
I like science fiction, but not most of the new stuff. I try to find old Heinleins at tag sales, or Zelazneys. I have the complete collection of the nutcase Philip K. Dick in paperback, yellowed pages with the sweet scent of mildew and all. He thought that a cascade of energies met where he placed his desk at his Berkeley condo. Some of his books donât even make any sense, but Iâve read them all, and nothing beats Ubik for sheer invention. So, it was natural that I headed for a science fiction chat room.
 Unfortunately, they were all interested in Daniel Patrick Kelly, Dan Simmons, online role games, old Star Trek trivia, and something called Death Realms. They took names like Star Trooper, Ultra Spock, Hyperion and others. And I couldnât read a lot of their messages at first or second glance. There is something called L33K, which translates to a language called Leek, where symbols are very imaginative. In other, simpler cyber-jargon U meant you and R meant are. 2 was for all kinds of toos and 4 for for and four and BFF and RFL and on and on until any true English speaker became confused.
I had almost given up trying to talk to these kids when a new alias appeared in the chat room: THIS IMMORTAL. That meant heâd read classic Zelazny or at least read the title. So I keyed a message. I kept it too, and thatâs how it started.
âDeath of Immortalityâ by Sky King frustrated me at first. I didnât like the protagonist Eric, and therefore it felt as though it was going to be a long read â as is often the case when you canât relate to a main character. However, he grew on me, and therefore so did the story. His humour actually added depth to his character, as it fell perfectly with his quirky mentality. Once Iâd invested in him, the story and subject matter gripped me with action and intrigue in abundance, intertwined with twists that kept me guessing.
Once I learnt to love Eric, the characters gripped me. There are only a handful of main players, but they are all strong and have a unique identity, making them engaging and (even when you know they shouldnât be at times) loveable. What makes them so great is the shifting motives they have, and as a reader this makes them difficult to predict. I thought I knew them, but theyâd ended up surprising me on multiple occasions.
What was most powerful was that Eric started the story alone, and ended it alone â painfully fitting for a man who had such little luck with love. The cynicism that came out of this failure in love was replicated in his unwillingness to co-operate with the people wishing for immortality to become a reality. This cynicism was not necessarily unfounded, but the story showed the strength that the fear of death can have on people, especially those in power.
This story portrays an alternate truth, with an irony in people killing for immortality. This irony is built even further through a man who doesnât believe in eternal life being the one that this âgiftâ falls to. Sometimes things are more powerful than yourself, and for me, Eric fell victim to this. At the end, this story delivered more sadness than its often jovial tone suggested it would, and it was all the better for it.Â