Two Weeks Ago...
Sparky
Sparky
looked nervous, but slowly, he nodded to Celestine Nexus Thirty Three.
"Okay." He sighed. "One truck coming right up. Should we get another Japanese kid?"
"Nah, they're oversaturated," Thirty Three said, already taking out more files and hastily rewriting names.
"Who should I nab then?" Sparky
Sparky
sounded unsure.
"I dunno, roll a die!" Thirty Three said, then muttered. "Supergirl can be...Super...Lady! There! Perfect."
Sparky
Sparky
sighed. "We're going to get sued," he said, then turned to his computer, and started to scroll through Prime-Earth's many potential targets - and cycled through variegated causes of death. He settled on one Eugene Dalbert, sighted in, then frowned. "Question: How are we going to nab him without the Caretakers noticing us?"
"What do you mean nab him?" Celestine Nexus Thirty Three asked, her voice irritated as she scribbled over Noceda and wrote in that place the name Notceda. "Just...just grab the nerd."
"You have no idea how my job actually works do you?" Sparky
Sparky
asked, his voice droll.
"You just nab souls when people die, and then...bip bop boop, cram them into dimensions for isekai bullshit!" Celestine said, throwing up several of her arms. "Right? That's how that works?" Inside, she started to count down the seconds that Sparky
Sparky
was wasting with this diversion. She had spent her entire life trying to crawl up the ranks of the Caretakers, and this souljock was-
"Souls don't exist, Celestine," Sparky
Sparky
said, rubbing each of his infinite temples all at once. "I mean. Okay, they do, but only in cosmic-pockets that have quantum saturated sentience bearing foam, but that's not the prime universe. The prime universe is running on pure crunch, just straight up how biology and physics tells it to work. Right?" He tapped the desk with his fingers. "If someone dies on Earth Prime, they...they don't go anywhere. They just stop. Only fictives get to keep living forever, in their pocket universes, and that's only if the universes don't collapse or get forgotten or overwritten or rewritten or whatever." He shook his heads, the expression on his manifold features shifting from contempt and pity.
Celestine, who had spent her whole life mostly dealing with the big, weighty projects - the gears of cosmos, the lives and deaths of stars - stammered. "W-What?"
"You didn't know that?" Sparky
Sparky
asked, actually laughing.
"B...Bu...but the Caretakers are yanking people and isekaing them all the
time
," she said. "It's how we deal with most of our problems! Or, uh, how we
used
to deal with all our problems!" She gestured around herself with her arms, her hair flaring bright blue. "Before corporate got involved-"
"Yeah, we yank them bodily out of the universe and throw them into new universes," Sparky
Sparky
said.
"...an...and Earth Prime doesn't notice?" Celestine whispered, her frantically concocted plan beginning to fall apart around herself.
"Well, we replace them with a fake body, but a body's easy to fake. It's consciousness that's hard!" Sparky
Sparky
said, sighing. "And the Primeverse just winks them out like candles. Fucking sucks, doesn't it?" He shook several of his heads. "But none of that matters if we just grab Eugene
before
the truck hits him. But that kind of dimensional snatching is going to get noticed by, you know, our
bosses
? Then we get
fired
?"
"S-So...you're saying..." Celestine said, slowly.
"I'm saying I
thought
you had an idea on how to grab Eugene or Larry or Greg or any of these people I have lined up before they bite it!" Sparky
Sparky
said, growing agitated now.
Celestine rubbed her palms against her face. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck."
"I...take it you didn't then," Sparky
Sparky
said, slowly.
Celestine tapped her fingers together before her nose, all twenty nine million of them. She thought, pensively.
"What is consciousness?" she said, slowly.
Sparky
Sparky
sighed. Closed his eyes. Rolled several dozen of his heads back. "Consciousness is a process, running on any system complex enough to support it. It's like a song, that comes out of an instrument. The instrument needs air - that's the processes that run life, by the way, whatever kind of life you're talking about. And air needs the instrument - that's the structures of the brain or computer or fungi or whatever it is your consciousness is in at the moment. Without either, you don't get the song."
Celestine stuck her tongue into the corner of her cheek. Cocked her head.
"What if we just grab the
pattern
of his brain?" she asked.
"Uh..." Sparky
Sparky
blinked. "Earth Prime still hasn't figured that trick out yet? Like, if they had brain scanning technology, sure, we could replicate it here. But the only side-universes that have it are fictive ones - and fictive technology won't work in Earth Prime. The best I can do is, like, get a very detailed snapshot of his brain. But like, a brain isn't just a physical structure, there's hormones and electrical interactions and
quantum
events that are happening."
"Grab it," Celestine said.
"But-"
"Grab it!" Celestine said, slapping her palms on her desk. "Or else this whole plan is a non-starter."
Her hands reached out into the controls that floated above her desk. They were complex and intricate and were normally used to sculpt a universe over many long centuries. She had a few hours, and was doing her best - and that was before she realized she had to make some pretty fundamental changes to the nature of the quantum foam in her current pocket universe. As Celestine's fingers twirled and twitched, Sparky
Sparky
focused on his own job. He winced. "Okay," he said. "Got the picture - a slightly blurry snapshot of a brain literal seconds before it gets squished by a truck."
Celestine grunted, still focused on her work.