AfterNet 01 - Good Cop Dead Cop

reading the book?”
    “Rybold mentioned it. I was interested,” she said, without looking away from the TV. “I just … I just wanted to know more about you, what you were like.”
    “When I was alive, you mean?”
    “Yeah.”
    “I was a prick.” That got her attention and she turned to look at him and grinned.
    “Yeah, you were. But you’re nothing like that now.”
    “Thanks. Can we move on?”
    “Sure. As long as you’re not really considering working for Rybold.”
    “I’m a cop. And being a cop makes you pretty useless for anything else.” Too late, he remembered that she had aspirations beyond being a cop. “You, of course, with your computer degree, you still have a fall back.”
    “Nice save, but you avoided answering my question. No more disembodied witness reports. No more traffic stops. No more slimy trial lawyers. Who wouldn’t want to quit?”
    “What, and give up showbiz?”
    — & —
    Brian relaxed in his easy chair. So relaxed he was unable to get up. He knew he had things to do, but he just couldn’t find the energy to get going. It was just so nice to spend a long Sunday afternoon watching TV on the mega-enormous flat-screen TV his wife had bought him for their first anniversary. Karen was the best. She had such a great job that allowed her to work at home and still make a lot of money. He felt a little sheepish about not going back to school or finding a job, but she persuaded him that he still needed time to recover from the surgery to correct that problem he had.
    Oh, that’s funny, he thought, when he saw a commercial with the talking orangutan buying the lawnmower. He dutifully pressed the button on the remote to record that he liked it. “Just press the button when you see a commercial that you like, honey,” Karen had told him. “You’ll be helping me with my job at the ad agency. I just don’t have the time to watch all these shows, so whenever you see a commercial or a show you like, press these buttons on the remote from one to five.”
    What’s not to like about this job? So much better than those other jobs she had, like when she worked for that aerospace company, or when she worked for that nuclear power lobby, and she was always asking his opinions about things that were boring and so complex he couldn’t even begin to understand them. Now I’m watching TV and helping my wife. Life can’t get any better.

Chapter 11
By Alvin Feathers
Outside Magazine
I watched while all the other skydivers left the DeHavilland Super Otter twin-engine plane. All six stepped out and were whisked away without a moment’s hesitation, even the 42-year-old mother of two who made her first solo jump this day.
It had been a long time since my last jump. Illness had kept me from a lot of things and it felt good to be in an airplane again, ready to take that last big step.
I looked at Marcy, my wife, and at Bill, the jumpmaster. Bill gave me the thumbs up and Marcy said something, probably “Love you honey!” and opened the box. It took a few seconds for the wind to really catch and swirl inside the box. Marcy gave it a good shake and I was sucked toward the open door.
Suddenly I was out, expecting to feel that wonderful first gulp in my stomach. But, of course, it wasn’t anything like I remembered. The other disembodied I talked to said it would be like stepping off a fast-moving train onto a platform and that’s just what it was like. I had just joined one of the newest and weirdest sports: disembodied skydiving. And people are just dying to try it out. But although you obviously do have to be dead, you don’t have to be crazy.
Floating lonely as a cloud
And you could say I was a crazy thrill seeker when I was alive. Before the climbing accident that ended my life, I skied, mountain biked, flew hang gliders and I even raced a snowmobile on water, in the summer. You could say the acceleration of gravity was my friend.
But disembodied skydiving is a completely different formula. Just a few seconds after leaving the plane, all motion stops. You’re like a little cloud, hanging motionless. You don’t feel the wind whistling past your ears. You feel the most blissful peace. And you get to enjoy it.
A beginner’s tandem freefall lasts 45 to 50 seconds before your chute opens and another six to eight minutes before you land. You can obviously change the proportions depending on how experienced, brave or stupid you are. But my first jump after my death lasted about five