The Terminal Experiment - Robert J. Sawyer Page 0,1

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Publisher’s note: This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either

are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any

resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Manufactured in the U.S.A.

LIBRARY AND ARCHIVES CANADA CATALOGUING IN PUBLICATION

Sawyer, Robert J.

The terminal experiment / Robert Sawyer.

Originally publ.: New York : HarperPrism, 1995.

978-0-14-317511-7

I. Title.

PS8587.A389835T4 2009 C813’.54 C2009-905533-3

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For Ted Bleaney

with thanks for twenty years of friendship

Contents

Cover

Praise

Title Page

Dedication

Author’s Note

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

AUTHOR’S NOTE

The Future Is Now

These days, I’m best known for FlashForward, my novel that is the basis for the ABC TV series of the same name. But that book didn’t change my life the most; this one did. The Terminal Experiment made my career when it won the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America’s Nebula Award—the “Academy Award” of the SF field—for Best Novel of the Year.

I received that award on April 27, 1996, at a gala banquet aboard the Queen Mary off Long Beach, California. Right after my win, John Douglas, an editor with the company that had produced the original edition of this book, said to me, “You’ve gone overnight from being a promising newcomer to an established, bankable name.” And John was right; my days as a struggling writer ended then and there.

I wrote The Terminal Experiment in 1993, setting it in the then far-distant year of 2011. Although the story is told against a backdrop of the online universe, when I was writing it the Internet was new to most people and the World Wide Web hadn’t yet been invented.

Even though I was an early adopter of online technologies—I’ve been on the Internet since 1983, have had a Web site (indeed, was the very first science-fiction writer to have one, at sfwriter) since 1995, and have been blogging since before the word even existed—neither I nor anyone else foresaw the current world of Google and Flickr, Facebook and Twitter, Wikipedia and YouTube (although my latest novels, Wake, Watch, and Wonder, which deal with the World Wide Web gaining consciousness in the present day, do embrace our modern reality).

For this new edition of The Terminal Experiment, I thought about changing the dates mentioned in the book, about removing the dates altogether, and about updating or revising the many references to computing and online life. But I ultimately decided not to alter the text. Yes, that means this book is now an odd snapshot of the way one writer thought the future of computing might unfold, but that’s the smallest part of what The Terminal Experiment is really about. Mostly the novel is an exploration of timeless conundrums: Do we have souls? Is there an afterlife? Does God exist? And—to me, the most intriguing of all—can science ever help us find the answers to these questions?

ROBERT J. SAWYER

MISSISSAUGA, ONTARIO

SEPTEMBER 2009

In the last analysis, it is our conception of death which decides our answers to all the questions life puts to us.

DAG HAMMARSKJÖLD (1905–1961)

UNITED NATIONS SECRETARY GENERAL

PROLOGUE

December 2011

“What room is Detective Philo in?” asked Peter Hobson, a tall, thin man of forty-two, with hair an equal mixture of black and gray.

The squat nurse behind the desk had been absorbed in whatever she’d been reading. She looked up. “Pardon?”

“Detective Sandra Philo,” said Peter. “What room is she in?”

“Four-twelve,” said the nurse. “But her doctor has ordered that only immediate family members should visit.”

Peter began down the corridor. The nurse came around from behind the desk and gave chase. “You can’t go in there,” she said firmly.

Peter turned briefly to look at her. “I have to see her.”

The nurse maneuvered in front of him. “She’s in critical condition.”

“I’m Peter Hobson. I’m a doctor.”

“I know

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