New Frontiers by Ben Bova

morally dead,” Jason insisted.
    â€œStill…” Michael lapsed into silence, pressing his fingers together prayerfully.
    â€œI’m not committing suicide,” Jason tried to explain. “I’m just going to sleep for a while. I won’t be committing any sin.”
    Michael had been his brother’s confessor since he had been ordained. He had heard his share of sinning.
    â€œYou’re treading a very fine line, Jace,” the monsignor warned his brother.
    â€œThe Church has got to learn to deal with the modern world, Mike.”
    â€œYes, perhaps. But I’m thinking of the legal aspects here. Your doctors will have to declare you legally dead, won’t they?”
    â€œIt’s pretty complicated. I have to give myself the injection, otherwise the state can prosecute them for homicide.”
    â€œYour state allows assisted suicides, does it?” Michael asked darkly.
    â€œYes, even though you think it’s a sin.”
    â€œIt is a sin,” Michael snapped. “That’s not an opinion, that’s a fact.”
    â€œThe Church will change its stand on that, sooner or later,” Jason said.
    â€œNever!”
    â€œIt’s got to! The Church can’t lag behind the modern world forever, Mike. It’s got to change.”
    â€œYou can’t change morality, Jace. What was true two thousand years ago is still true today.”
    Jason rubbed at the bridge of his nose. A headache was starting to throb behind his eyes, the way it always did when he and Michael argued.
    â€œMike, I didn’t come here to fight with you.”
    The monsignor softened immediately. “I’m sorry, Jace. It’s just that … you’re running a terrible risk. Suppose you’re never awakened? Suppose you finally die while you’re frozen? Will God consider that you’ve committed suicide?”
    Jason fell back on the retort that always saved him in arguments with his brother. “God’s a lot smarter than either one of us, Mike.”
    Michael smiled ruefully. “Yes, I suppose He is.”
    â€œI’m going to do it, Mike. I’m not going to let myself die in agony if I can avoid it.”
    His brother conceded the matter with a resigned shrug. But then, suddenly, he sat up ramrod straight again.
    â€œWhat is it?” Jason asked.
    â€œYou’ll be legally dead?” Michael asked.
    â€œYes. I told you—”
    â€œThen your will can go to probate.”
    â€œNo, I won’t be…” Jason stared at his brother. “Oh my God!” he gasped. “My estate! I’ve got to make sure it’s kept intact while I’m frozen.”
    Michael nodded firmly. “You don’t want your money gobbled up while you’re in the freezer. You’d wake up penniless.”
    â€œMy children all have their own lawyers,” Jason groaned. “My bankers. My ex-wives!”
    Jason ran out of the rectory.
    Although the doctors had assured him that it would take months before the pain really got severe, Jason could feel the cancer in his gut, growing and feeding on his healthy cells while he desperately tried to arrange his worldly goods so that no one could steal them while he lay frozen in a vat of liquid nitrogen.
    His estate was vast. In his will he had left generous sums for each of his five children and each of his five former wives. Although they hated one another, Jason knew that the instant he was frozen they would unite in their greed to break his will and grab the rest of his fortune.
    â€œI need that money,” Jason told himself grimly. “I’m not going to wake up penniless a hundred years or so from now.”
    His corporate legal staff suggested that they hire a firm of estate specialists. The estate specialists told him they needed the advice of the best constitutional lawyers in Washington.
    â€œThis is a matter that will inevitably come up before the Supreme