Hereafter: A Holodog Story (Part Three of Three)

Part One at: https://www.abctales.com/story/marandina/hereafter-holodog-story-part-on...

Part Two at: https://www.abctales.com/story/marandina/hereafter-holodog-story-part-tw...

Hereafter: A Holodog Story (Part Three of Three)

Harold stared at the canine as though an apparition had appeared. The dog had its back to him, looking away in the opposite direction but even side on, it was evident that its head was identical. The DNA sample was a magic elixir enabling the replication of the animal’s personality as well as all physical attributes – a roadmap to version 2.0. The hologram turned to look at the man on the settee. Everything was the same. There was the face of Ben, the body of Ben, the legs of Ben and the tail of Ben. His lovable Labrador was now peering right at him, its mouth open and tongue hanging out, panting gently. Harold closed his eyes for a second and breathed in. This felt so unreal. At the same time he felt euphoric. Looking back at the open package, he took the neural receptors, both a similar size to a fifty pence piece, and placed them behind each ear lobe on the side of his neck after clicking them on. If felt like his awareness had been heightened by several notches and his thoughts were being read. If he had spent longer reading the operating manual, he would have realised that (beyond activating the holodog) everything else was controlled by his brain; he and the dog were in symbiosis.

He leapt off his seat and wrapped his arms around the pooch. A hard light application fired signals to receptors in his brain that translated into the simulation of touch. As far as his mind was concerned, he could feel the dog. The reality was that the animal on the rug was made of light; no more, no less. None of that mattered to Harold. Tears of joy spilled onto the floor. As he gently pushed the hound away, he held it, cupping the sides of its head. He looked deeply into the dog’s brown eyes as though he had lost something inside it. Ben 2.0 stared back, cocking his head to one side. At that, Harold laughed.

Harold wandered into the garage to retrieve a lead that would enable him to take Ben out. The canine had trotted after him and, turning to go back into the lounge, the triumphant owner nearly tripped over his newly faithful mutt who was right behind him.  They would go for a glorious walk.

****

The sun was high in the sky, perched on its afternoon crown of rays. A gentle breeze that rustled tree branches made it ideal weather to be outside. Birds were singing. Robins, blue-tits, pigeons and sparrows sitting in trees and bushes awaited walkers along the intended route around the estate. Harold pulled the front door shut and made his way down his drive onto the pavement that travelled a circular path around the houses in the close. Directly opposite, his neighbour – Neville Spence – was staring out of his front window. Like a spider waiting in a trapdoor, he immediately spied Harold and Ben. He pressed his nose against the glass, looking hard at the cap-wearing man and dog.

“Hey Mary, come and look at this. That dog is the spit of the one Harry lost just recently. I didn’t know he had replaced it already. And with one so similar!” Neville’s wife carried on dusting, vaguely acknowledging her husband’s observation with a disinterested murmur. A yellow sticker on the window pronounced the occupiers as members of Neighbourhood Watch. The man of the house had proudly done his civic duty during the Pandemic by reporting several interlopers that had exceeded the government restriction of leaving their homes once every twenty-four hours. Not much happened in the locality that Neville wasn’t aware of. Running the Facebook site, snapchat group, email thread and pieces for the local newspaper, the retired police officer took it upon himself to serve his fellow parishioners in a selfless manner. His erstwhile wife distanced herself from her husband’s armchair vigilantism.  

Neville’s red and black chequered cheesecloth-shirt reflected in the glass, his white hair thinning, sharp beady eyes and pinched nose looking back at him as he watched his neighbour drift passed and out of the close. He shook his head gently, pondering where Harold would go, how long he would be and where he had got the dog from. All questions that would be answered in time. Turning to sit on a beige settee where steam was rising from a coaster-cushioned cup of coffee that sat on a glass-topped table, Neville pushed his hand through what was left of his hair, his eyes screwing shut in thought. He picked up the tv remote and aimed it at the set in the corner of the room. He couldn’t get with voice commands. It was lunchtime and the news would be on. On screen, scrolling headlines ran along the bottom of the picture as a presenter was reporting on a breaking story. Neville turned the volume up.

“And a story that’s just coming in is that a law has been passed that allows the legal cloning of humans into holograms. Let’s go to our science editor for more detail.”

Neville’s eyebrows raised as he listened intently.

“Hey, Mary, have you heard about this? People can be cloned as holograms now!” His wife continued with her housework in the background muttering “oh, that’s interesting dear.” to at least show some interest.

****

Harold enjoyed his walk. It was just like the good old days with Ben 2.0 sniffing away at grass verges. There was the usual cast of local wildlife along the route to be photographed via his mobile phone and uploaded to social media when he got back. Other dog walkers were none the wiser in terms of a replacement dog but then why should they be? He hadn’t been out since his faithful hound had died so folks would probably assume he had been away or something. If they asked he would tell them his dog had been ill but was better now. There was the inevitable array of acknowledgements and brief chats with other walkers. It was like nothing had changed. He jiggled the key in his front door lock and let himself and Ben in.

Taking the lead off, Harold felt elated at being able to go through his old routine of taking his canine companion out. The feeling didn’t last long. He felt a sharp pain in his chest and clutched at his breast. Jolts of lightening crackled through his loins. He groped for the phone that was in his trouser pocket next to the poo bags and dialled 999. In a significant amount of discomfort, he mumbled to the operator that he thought he might be having a heart attack and could someone come and help. Before the call ended, the world went dark and his eyes closed. As the synapses in his brain slowed to a stop, the holodog shimmered and faded. The neural link was breaking. In slow motion, the retiree slumped to the floor. Ben 2.0 blinked into the ether; invisible but on standby waiting to be restarted again. The house was now empty of life other than a dog made from light that nobody could see.

His final thought had been that he was glad he had opted for the platinum deal with Dumante Life Sciences. He didn’t generally believe in the concept of insurance but when the stakes were so high, this was one occasion where it paid to have a plan B. Hannah had registered all of their details on a DNA database for tracing family ancestry amongst other things a few years ago. Those samples provided had been stored in a laboratory at work.

It was two hours later that an ambulance arrived, blue lights whirring on top. Yet another pay dispute had left services even more stretched than normal. By that time, the old man had long left this mortal plain. Two male paramedics attended at the same time as Hannah who had turned up to check on her dad and meet the new holodog. One of the medics felt for a pulse on the side of the old man’s neck but there was none. The neural receptors had dropped onto the floor with Harold’s demise. He looked at his green-uniformed partner and the distressed woman standing next to him and shook his head. They heaved the body onto a stretcher and into the back of the meat wagon. Yards away across the close, a curtain twitched as Neville sucked in his breath when he realised what was happening. He called to his wife who, breaking with recent tradition, stopped what she was doing and joined him. They looked at each other shocked at the sight of their stricken neighbour. Wandering outside for a closer look, a small gathering had formed, each with arms folded at the bottom of respective paths. There was a sense of numbness amongst those present, hushed murmurs lamenting the fate of poor Harold and only a year after the demise of his wife. Eventually, after the ambulance had left, one by one people made their way back into detached and semi-detached residences to recommence domestic routines.

It was two days later when Neville was, once again, scanning the horizon through his bay window. The only noticeable event of the last hour or so was Harold’s svelte daughter letting herself into the house opposite. She was clutching a parcel under her arm. Turning away to catch up with the news on tv, something caught Neville’s eye that made him stop still in his tracks. As far as he knew, all of the inhabitants of the house opposite were deceased so he expected the young girl to re-emerge alone. There was no reason for anyone else to be there. He pressed his face hard against the glass and stared. The door opened further and his eyes grew larger. His eyes widened yet more and his breathing became shallow as he took in the scene unfolding. In the bay window, Hannah stood watching wearing a baseball cap. Wandering down the drive and onto the pavement was an old man, an old woman and a dog. All of them should be dead and buried. But they weren’t.

Image free to use via WikiCommons at: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Light_Man.jpg

Notes

My grateful thanks to anyone that read some or all of this story. It ran to c. 5,000 words in the end. A long, short story but nowhere near novella length. It was inspired by the loss of my dog Skye in early February 2023. I guess it was wish fulfilment in thinking of ways to bring him back. I imagine many of us pet-owners feel the same way.

The hologram notion is well documented in science fiction. It pops up numerous times in the various iterations of Star Trek, there’s Arnold Rimmer in Red Dwarf and Ryan Gosling has an AI hologram girlfriend in Bladerunner 2049 to name just a few. There will be countless literary references and books that centre on hologram stories.

As much as this technology is there now, there is a bridge to be crossed in terms of replicating personality, thoughts and feelings. Using DNA seemed to make sense in that it would provide all of the building blocks to create an exact replica. It’s hard to know where you need to get to without a map to show you. As with AI, things are moving quickly. It’s a matter of time before we will be able to live in a computer generated reality. The likes of Meta are spending billions on the concept. Life as we know it may become more and more blurred at the edges.