Which of course would raise the hypothetical question of who would really be in charge of it all: the magically suddenly conscious machine or the essence of the billionaire whose body (and brain) has died? Well, maybe they would take turns in some kind of futuristic marriage arrangement. Till death do them part. Or rather, something else like the repeated failure to pay their mutual electricity bills or ordering crucial spare parts in time. Oops.
Or maybe it is their endless posthuman squabbling about differing romantic needs, choices of food or political preferences that will lead to a literally messy divorce or some gory domestic violence that may very well prove fatal. Who knows.
(on transhumanism... from my forthcoming new book)