Previously muttered:
I often ponder what life might be like among Uploads: human minds which have been scanned into machines, leaving the flesh behind and spending most of their time in simulated worlds. . . .
Lately I’ve pondered the plight of persons uploaded unexpectedly, such as corpsicles who were frozen vitrified before uploading became possible. (For purposes of the scenario, I assume it’s easier to scan and simulate a frozen brain than to revive the cryonaut in the flesh.) What should they experience when they wake up?
Scenario A. You wake alone and nude in a sunny little room with no furniture other than the bed and a big mirror. Out the windows you see blue sky, with clouds, in all directions. An open doorway leads to a wardrobe with garments of every description. Once dressed, there’s nothing to do but go through the next door, down some stairs into a larger room where people wait to greet you. A technician briefly explains what has happened to you, and several of your friends lead you on a tour of the new multiverse.
Scenario B. You wake in a hospital bed; a couple of white-coats verify that you can hear and see and walk, and assure you that most of your questions will be answered in the orientation session beginning shortly.
Scenario C. You wake in a four-poster bed; a cartoon Jeeves greets you while opening the curtains, asks whether you’d like a bath, and says visitors are expected for lunch. It soon becomes apparent that this apparition knows literally nothing beyond its role as a valet.