Limbo's Purgatory

“Conrad Limbo is a man undeserving of paradise,” the prosecutor declared as he began his summation. “Throughout the course of this trial, I have shown you conclusive proof of this man’s life-long greed and contempt for humanity. Mr. Limbo has spent his entire life amassing a great fortune while those who have worked on his asteroid mines and lunar plantations were denied their basic rights and subjected to cruel working conditions. Never in his entire one hundred and twenty years of life has he donated to a charity. Never has he sponsored any humanitarian causes. Instead, Mr. Limbo has hedonistically shunned these basic societal responsibilities in exchange for his own extravagance and comfort. Like the global corporations of centuries past, which had nearly destroyed the world with their greedy ways, Conrad Limbo has committed a crime against us all. Not a crime that is punishable in this lifetime, but one that should be punished in the next. I ask only that Mr. Limbo be denied that which he has denied so many others. Comfort. Conrad Limbo should never reach Paradise. Thank you.”

Finished, the prosecutor took his seat.

With the soul-trial now over, the judge turned his attention to the one hundred and twenty-year-old man seated before him. “This trial is concluded,” he informed. “I shall retire to my quarters to make my determination. We shall reconvene tomorrow at nine a.m. at which time I shall render my verdict. Adjourned.”

With the slap of his gavel, the trial for Conrad Limbo’s soul came to an end.

Limbo only grinned.

- - - -

At the peak of its period-of-intellect, humanity had learned to control death.

People still died. That didn’t change. Advances in medical science helped to slow the process, but in the end, the human body always failed. But that was no longer the end. For eons, death meant the end of one’s existence. Oh there were those who believed in the spirit, in the existence of an after-life. There were the countless religions, the debates over heaven and hell. But in truth, no one really knew what came next. It was mankind’s truest mystery. A mystery that mankind was able to solve, with science.

They called their creation Purgatory, which was developed for just one purpose: the complete and total control of the human after-life. Before its inception, people had accepted the inevitability of death. There was no escaping it. The question then became: How can we make death less frightening? The answer was Purgatory.

Purgatory, simply put, was the mechanical preservation of the mind after death. It was decided that since a person’s mind was simply a collection of data stored in the human brain, that data could be stored in another vessel after the brain no longer functioned. The technology had been around for years. It just needed to be refined. Before long, human scientists had developed a method for downloading and storing a person’s mental data into a computer mainframe. In essence, the person’s body was dead, but their mind lived on in the computer. Soon, every man, woman, and child was implanted with a special cerebral memory chip. This acted as a data back up devise. At the time of death, just as the brain function was about to shut down, the cerebral memory chip would quickly collect all of the individual’s mental faculties, hence saving the mind from permanent destruction. The cerebral memory chip was then inserted into the Purgatory Mainframe where the information would remain, theoretically, forever. It didn’t matter how the person died. It could be a gradual illness or a sudden violent act. Either way, the cerebral memory chip would always capture the mental information before the brain shut down. The creators of Purgatory didn’t stop there. They soon discovered that they could control the conditions of the world they created. Once a person’s chip was inserted into the Purgatory Mainframe, their mental information would be unleashed on a whole new world, one created inside the computer. To the deceased person, it would be like waking up inside of a new world. The scientists were able to create that world in any image they wanted. At first, Purgatory was a paradise where the minds of all deceased would go. No longer did people fear death because they knew that when they died, Purgatory awaited.

But in time, a debate began to brew. There were many who believe that some people did not deserve Paradise when they died. This led to the creation of the soul-trials. It was decided that each individual would have to prove in a court setting whether or not they lived a life deserving of Paradise. For those who died suddenly or with little warning, the trail would take place posthumously, with friends, family, and counsel giving testimony on their behalf. For those who had warning of their coming deaths, the sick and affirm, they were able to participate in the trial. For those who proved worthy, their Purgatory would be one of Paradise. For those who did not, their Purgatory would be altered in order to place them in an environment they deserved.

At one hundred and twenty-years-of-age, Conrad Limbo’s life was fast approaching an end. His body could no longer be preserved by medical science. His soul-trial had come. It was up to the judge to decide his fate.

- - - -

“I have reached my verdict,” the judge declared.

Limbo, seated next to his counsel, coughed and wheezed through a set of failing lungs. He didn’t have much time.

“Mr. Limbo. Throughout this trial, you and your counsel have attempted to convince this court of your worth to our society. You’ve pointed out your many construction projects, which have brought development to desolate areas. You’ve talked heavily about the size of you vast holdings, pointing out the many jobs you’ve created in the process. These sound like high and honorable things on the surface. But in hindsight, I see only a legacy of greed and corruption. Yes you brought prosperity to the desolate regions you spoke of, but you destroyed many natural resources in the process. Yes you created a sizable army of employees, but your treatment of them was substandard, almost shameful. You did little to improve their lives, therefore their employment can hardly been seen as an accomplishment on your part. In keeping with this evidence, it is my decision that your acceptance into Paradise be denied. Furthermore, I decree that your Purgatory be constructed in a way that is befitting of your deeds. It is the decision of this court that your after-life be spent in a construction that resembles one of your own asteroid minds where you will perform the same labor, under the same conditions, that you have subjected so many others to. Adjourned.”

Another smack of the gavel brought the trial to its official end.

It had been decided. Conrad Limbo would not reach Paradise. Instead, he would be sent to somewhere that vaguely resembled hell.

Yet Limbo still could only grin.

- - - -

The technician was greeted at the entrance to the mansion by a lanky looking man in a servant’s outfit.

“Mr. Damillie I presume?”

“That’s correct.”

“I am Walter Pendleton, personal assistant to Conrad Limbo. We have been expecting you. Follow me please.”

Damillie followed the servant into the massive house. Limbo’s mansion was impressively decadent. Upon first glance, a visitor couldn’t help but be impressed by its superior size and extravagance. The molding was carved out of woods that no longer existed on Earth. The marble was harvested from mineral deposits found only on the very edge of the solar system. The tapestries on the walls were first time originals from ancient artists who even the most well know museums couldn’t afford. Limbo’s home was definitely one of the greatest the world had ever seen.

“How is he doing?” Damillie asked as the servant led him deeper into the estate.

“Not well I’m afraid. I fear it won’t be long before he succumbs to his illness.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing you called me when you did.”

After what seemed like miles of halls and corridors, they finally reached Limbo’s bedchamber. Limbo was seated in soft chair, while built-in mechanical arms worked to hold his decrepit body in an upright position.

“Mr. Limbo. This is Mr. Damillie – head technician for the Purgatory mainframe.”

“Yes Pendleton, I know that,” Limbo scolded. “Why must you be so prim and proper all the time? Do you think I’m stupid or something?”

“No sir.”

“You best not. Now be quiet while I talk to… I’m sorry. What was your name?”

“Damillie. Seth Damillie.”

“Yes, Damillie. Let’s get right down to business Damillie. I take it my assistant Pendleton has explained why I’ve asked you to come here tonight?”

“Yes he has.”

“I’m sorry…can I offer you some coffee?”

“Sure. That would be great.”

“Pendleton. Get Damillie his coffee. And be quick about it! I’m tired of your slouching!”

The servant quickly exited, leaving Limbo and his guest alone.

“Now, where were we? Oh yes. The proposition. If you keep up with the news web, you probably know what the verdict was for my soul-trial.” Limbo ended the sentence with a loud coughing jag.

After he finished, Damillie answered, “Yes I have. Paradise denied. Purgatory to be spent as a laborer on one of your own asteroid mines. Not exactly a good retirement for a man of your stature.”

“That’s why I need you.”

Just then, Pendleton entered the room carrying a cup and saucer of coffee. Damillie accepted it gratefully. After taking a few sips, he was quick to note how the coffee of a multibillionaire was indeed better than anything he’d ever tasted before.

“So, do we have a deal?”

Damillie waited until he finished the billionaire’s coffee before answering. Looking up, he could tell that the old man was sweating, as if the suspense of the moment might make him drop dead right there.

“Sure,” Damillie answered. “Why not?”

“Ha!” Limbo shouted with a joyful burst that brought him more coughing. “You see…cough….Pendleton? I told you that money….cough…could buy you anything.”

The servant merely nodded.

“So are you sure that you can get me into Paradise regardless of the verdict?”

“Oh sure,” the technician insisted. “It shouldn’t be a problem at all. As soon as your cerebral chip is downloaded into the Purgatory Mainframe, I shouldn’t have any problem hacking into the system. From there, it’s just a matter of changing around a few algorithms in order to get you into Paradise. I can even make your Paradise in a construct of your own choosing.”

Limbo mind soared at this prospect. “Is that so? Then when I’m in Paradise, I want to be in a young man’s body. I want to be twenty-five forever. I want to have money. Power. Women. I want the sun to shine every day. Can you do that?”

“No problem.”

Leaning back, Limbo beamed a big smile, reveling in his victory over the system. Sure, it was going to cost him a lot of money. But so what? As they say, you can’t take it with you.

“Thank you Damillie.”

“Hey, as long as you’re paying what you’re paying, no other thanks is necessary.”

“That’s just what I like to see,” Limbo declared. “An enterprising man. If more people were like that, none of this would even be necessary. Imagine. Paradise denied to me. Me! And why? Because I wasn’t nice to my employees. Well I say to hell with them. They weren’t slaves. If they didn’t like working for me, they could have quit. They’re just jealous is all. Jealous.”

“Well, in any rate, I guess it doesn’t matter now,” Damillie pointed out. “If that will be all, I think I’ll be going now.”

“Yes. By all means. Pendleton. See Damillie out. And see that he gets anything he wants you worthless whelp!”

Right away, the servant did as he was told. As Pendleton led Damillie out of the sleeping chamber, Limbo leaned back in his mechanical chair and dreamed about the Paradise that waited.

His coughing came on again, steady and consistent.

- - - -

Conrad Limbo died in his sleep the following Sunday. Automatically, his mental faculties were downloaded into the cerebral memory chip implanted in his brain. After being taken to the morgue, the coroner removed the chip and it was placed in a sealed package for its trip the Central Purgatory Mainframe Station in New Washington. The package was then picked up by a Purgatory courier who delivered it to the mainframe two standard days later. On Tuesday the twentieth of March, Limbo’s memory chip was plugged into the system. With that, his after-life began.

- - - -

Limbo awoke to a beautiful sunny day. After standing up on his own power, he looked himself over. His body was young and strong. It was as Damillie had promised. He was twenty-five again. All around him was a grassy covered plane with a bright blue-sky overhead. It looked like the Garden of Eden. He had arrived in Paradise.

Running he jumped and somersaulted through the grass. It had been years since he could do either. If I’d know death would have been like this, he thought, I wouldn’t have fought it for so long.

Somewhere in the blue-sky above him, a cloud began to form. It wasn’t a black cloud of a storm. But rather, it was the soft shape of what might have been a face. Watching it, Limbo marveled as the cloud solidified. It was indeed forming into the shape of a giant face in the sky. Once the face was finally finished forming, it looked down upon Limbo in the same way that God might have before humankind made him obsolete.

Only, this wasn’t the face of God. Limbo recognized it right away.

“Damillie?”

“That’s right Mr. Limbo,” the face answered.

“What are you doing here?”

“Think of me as an image of the person you knew. I’m really alive back at the Purgatory Mainframe. I just created this construct in order to…welcome you to your eternity.”

“Oh. I see. Thank you.”

“There’s someone else here who’d like to say hello.”

Next to the image of Damillie’s head, another image began to form. It looked like a soft cloud at first, but before long it morphed into yet another face that Limbo recognized right away. It was his servant, Walter Pendleton.

“Pendleton? What are you doing here?”

“Mr. Damillie was kind enough to let me speak with you. I wish that I could say congratulations. This certainly looks like a wonderful place to spend eternity. However, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You see sir, after you had finished your business with Mr. Damillie, I took it upon myself to seek him out with a business proposition of my own. We arrived at rather interesting arrangement. You see, rather than accepting money from you in order to get you into Paradise, Mr. Damillie has agreed to accept an even larger amount from me in order to keep you out of it.”

Limbo stood shocked and outraged. “Impossible!” He insisted. “You couldn’t have possibly matched my offer.”

“Not true sir,” the servant countered. “I’ve worked for you for over fifty years. Where do you think all of my wages went? I’ll tell you where, I saved them. Saved them for a rainy day. It was just enough to provide me with a higher offer for Mr. Damillie.”

Furious, Limbo turned his attention to the image of Damillie. “We had a deal! You can’t do this!”

Damillie only smiled. “Sorry Limbo. Pendleton offered me more money. And like you once said. Money can buy you anything.”

“Pendleton,” Limbo pleaded. “Why are you doing this?”

The face of the servant grew grave and serious. “For years I’ve watched as you’ve treated people like animals. I’ve seen your contempt for the people under your employ. You once said, “to hell with them.” Thanks to you, they were already in hell. Now lets see how you like it.”

With that, both the images of Pendleton and Damillie began to fade away.

“Pendleton! Pendleton wait!”

But the images were now gone. All around him, the Paradise he’d awakened to began to fade away as well. The blue sky quickly turned black. The grassy field became a ground of jagged asteroid rock. The wide open outdoors shrank into what felt like a dark tomb. He now found himself inside the black confines of an asteroid mine. All around him, the smells of sweat and stagnant air was overwhelming.

To his right, a surly looking foreman approached. He was large, menacing, and particularly unpleasant.

“Here!” the foreman said as he shoved a hard hat and a laser drill into Limbo’s hands. “Now get to work!”

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