Wake Me In The Future

Wake Me In The Future
 

The Cryogen Chronicles
Book 1

Alex Oldham

Published by
Cryogen Publishing

Copyright © September 2011
 

This edition published December 2012

Cryogen Publishing
 

ISBN: 978-1-4478-3665-0

Prologue
– Betrayed and Forgotten

The two human figures glided silently through the sprawling parade of semi-dead. Contained within their semi-organic environment suits, they began the slow motion dance they’d repeated countless times before, drifting along as if conscious thought held no control of their movement; until suddenly…..
they froze
, as if startled by an unexpected sound.

‘I’ll tell you something,' one of them shouted into his suit’s communications link, 'it’s a good job these poor suckers can’t feel anything. They’d get one hell of a headache after a few thousand years.’

‘Make that a few million,’ came the static crackled reply from his female colleague as she looked out over the scene that stretched before her and added, ‘once this place is sealed, I don’t think they’ll ever see the light of day again.’

As graveyards went, it was pretty unique; it was on the Moon for a start, and there were no chiselled blocks of marble or stone to line its deathly isles. Instead, row upon row of towering silver pods stood on polished marble plinths, and glistened under the artificial lights of the dusty cavern. Deep underground, and far enough away, to be forgotten by a race that had moved beyond this outdated approach to the search for longevity.

After all; where better to discard Earth’s unwanted, than on the far side of the Moon - forever hidden from its eternal dancing partner.

Where, right now, the rumbling vibrations from the nearby water processing plant, accompanied the last of the gleaming containers as it floated towards the technicians. When it reached them, they accessed the visual commands in their suit’s visors to gently raise the pod to fit neatly into the space provided; among the hundreds of thousands of other pseudo-living headstones.

‘That’s it then,’ the relieved voice of the technician sighed, ‘finally done after two years. Boy, am I gonna celebrate when I get Earth side.’

‘You volunteered for this programme Robert, if it’s got to you that much; you need to request an easier assignment next time.’

‘Ok, ok,’ he said defensively, ‘I know you’re a hard hearted witch, but I happen to feel for these people.’

‘They’re not people Robert; they’re just frozen cadavers, nothing more than the meat that most people have in their freezers.’

‘Don’t be disrespectful Sal!’ he raised his voice reproachfully, ‘That’s not funny, and anyway, if that were true, why aren’t they just buried like regular people, instead of being left like this?’

‘Lily-livered liberalism.’ she almost spat, ‘People with too much power and less backbone than a jelly fish. Surely nobody actually believed that these people’s half baked idea of being frozen and bought back to life, could ever actually happen, did they? That’s why we’re here now, sweeping the problem under the carpet.’

Pausing and looking around, the man nodded, as if agreeing with his friend’s sentiments, but also offering a last goodbye to this familiar place. ‘Pretty big carpet,’ he gestured around him. ‘Although it makes you think doesn't it,’ he said, placing his hand on the pod nearest to him, unable to feel its bitter cold through his insulated suit, ‘each one of these poor people has a story.’ And looking up to the small rectangular window of the cylinder, continued, ‘I mean, I wonder what story lives inside this one?’

The container he’d touched was no different on the outside than any of the countless others, but just like all the others it contained a unique individual. Because I was in that container – me - Richard Green; and the man was right, I did have a story to tell, because just like all my fellow Cryogens, I’d looked to live another day, had paid my fee for a chance to cheat death and shake hands with the future. And my story had yet to play out, because it was one that would begin again; long after the people who had consigned me to this place had all met their makers.

And at least I wasn’t alone in this futuristic necropolis, because somewhere in this vast cavern, amongst all the hundreds of thousands of other human containers, waiting just as patiently as I was for a second chance - was Helen, my wife.

As the lights dimmed and went out, and the vast metal doors rolled shut, sealing us in for what they surely hoped was forever, my rigid body continued to be held to attention, like a guard outside Buckingham Palace, unmoving as a statue. So far, I’d been preserved like this for over a century; but no one could possibly know how much longer the capsule they’d encased me in, could protect my physical being from nature’s predilection for decay. How long it could safeguard the fragile body and hopeful dreams within.

So Helen and I, along with the rest of this army of travelers in time, just as we had when we first entered this uncertain sleep, continued to wait… and wait……

Chapter 01
- Awake

When I'd died, I never really expected to see the light that people used to talk about; the one that was supposed to ease your passing and draw you to the other side, where loved ones that had gone before waited to welcome you to the next level. But I did become aware of it, hanging in the distance, like a solitary star in an otherwise empty cosmos. And I found myself drifting forwards, pulled towards it by the irresistible gravity of that isolated pinprick of existence.

At first it was like one of those dreams, where you find yourself running down a corridor, and just before you reach the end, you’re miraculously back where you started. Because just as I got closer, and became aware of muffled sounds and unfocused images trying to form, the darkness once again returned to haunt my thoughts. In and out I drifted, and for a while nothing but those trance-like moments existed for me, and each time they lasted just that little bit longer.

I thought I could make out the word ‘hello’, and I sensed the presence of people around me
and then
more defined images resolved from the greyness. From the blurred haze I perceived movement and human shapes. I recognised the words ‘sedation’ and ‘constrained’, a male voice, quite, yet strong. These were not the welcoming sounds I’d expected to hear as I entered the afterlife or the voice of my father, or anyone else I'd lost for that matter.

Memories started to form, but I didn’t know if they were mine, or were coming from somewhere else? I wasn’t sure. But one thing I was sure of; if I was actually entering Heaven it was nothing like the one I'd
been told
about.

There were two figures immerging from the mist, one close and leaning over me, and another one standing in the background. My eyes strayed to the distant figure and as the face came into focus I saw that it held a grimace, and it seemed menacing in a familiar way that I couldn’t quite think of right now. The image frightened me as it fixed itself in my mind. And as I started to bring my attention to the body leaning over me, blackness fell again.

The next time my eyes welcomed in the light it was overwhelming, but at least the images were sharp. I was looking directly into the face of a bald Asian man, young and handsome, with large deep brown eyes that were soft and clear. He had a wide toothy smile and he was speaking to me. I could only see his lips moving at first, and then like someone turning up the volume, I began to hear his words.

‘.....and try to stay calm, you’re still slightly sedated, we’re reviving you gradually.’

My eyes were having difficulty adjusting to the level of light and I couldn’t focus on the background at all. I seemed to be in a stark white room, but there was no fixed point to the light, it was coming from everywhere, as if all the walls were illuminated from behind. I could just make out some type of panel on the far wall about six feet wide, vaguely darker than its surroundings. Was it a panel or just a shadow? Or even my eyes playing tricks on me.

The man continued to talk but I couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying.
What are you reviving me from
, I thought. Then it hit me. A vision of Helen’s face on her deathbed suddenly flashed right through my head.

‘Aaagh!’ I tried to scream but my voice faltered and I couldn’t move my arms or legs. ‘Aaagh, arrhhh!’ My whole body went into spasm and I felt pressure on my shoulders, which panicked me even more and I jerked from side to side. Then the gaping chasm of darkness appeared once again, gradually drawing me in, as I fought it I heard the man’s voice following me into the distance, ‘You’re beginning to remember,’ and the rest of his words just faded into nothingness.

Finally, I awoke, as if from a deep refreshing slumber and made to stretch, but my arms and legs were still restrained, in fact I didn’t seem able to move anything other than my head. I lifted it and the man I’d seen before was looking at me. He had a kind face, and through his blue bodysuit, I could distinguish a muscular and well defined torso. And he bent over me now, and quietly began to speak.

‘I need to be sure you're stable enough to remove these restraints. They’re the reason you can’t move.’ Don’t worry; it's for your own safety. We didn’t want you to panic and injure yourself.’

The light was still hurting my eyes but surprisingly a pleasant and familiar smell, like freshly ironed clothes, filled the air. It was only a faint trace, and seemed out of place, but it soothed me anyway, and I began to relax.

‘What can you remember?’ the man asked, ‘it won’t all come back at once, but do you know your name and why you’re here?’

I let my head fall back, it felt heavy and I was already exhausted, but breathing in the homely fragrance I somehow found the strength to talk. ‘Richard’ I tried to say, but it came out more like a croak and I swallowed to try to lubricate my throat before adding, ‘I died and was frozen - and now you’ve bought me back.’ I was having difficulty believing this. Even though we’d talked so many times about it happening, I somehow didn’t really believe it would.

‘
We
’ I’d thought ‘
we, oh my god’
, I lifted my head again and tried to shout, but the words wouldn’t come out, as if I had no control over my voice. Eventually I managed to force out, ‘Helen – is…is she here? Has she been revived?’

But the man calmly laid his hand on my shoulder and said, ‘Richard, you need to take things slowly, there’s plenty of time, and so much to learn.’

‘But…’ I began.

‘Right now,’ he interrupted, ‘I need to know if you’re calm enough for me to take these restraints off; once you’re up and about we can talk properly. Well?’ he asked, pointing to what I assumed was holding me down.

‘Of course I am,' I nodded my head in confirmation, 'I prepared myself for a long time for this, I am sure I’ll be okay.’ and as the man began to remove the straps across my body I repeated, ‘Please can you tell me if my wife Helen has been revived, that’s all I care about.’

‘There’ll be plenty of time for your questions later, but you’ve got to understand that we have to take things slowly to avoid overwhelming you. All I can tell you right now is that very few records have survived the thousand years you’ve been preserved. Which means,’ he paused and looked up at me, ‘we’re going to have to rely on your memories to fill in the gaps.’ And after another short pause he continued removing the restraints, ‘If you give me your wife’s details before I go today I’ll try to find out what I can.’

I looked into space as I considered his words.
A thousand years!

He stood next to the bed I was reclining on, which was actually more like a cot than a bed. It was higher and reminded me of a dentist’s chair. He was scrutinising me as if expecting to find panic, ‘my name is Ankit.’ he said, ‘and I’ll be your contact until you‘re able to leave here; which will be as soon as we’re confident you can handle your new surroundings.’

‘What about the other man who was standing over there when I first came round,’ I nodded my head at the opposite wall, ‘he didn’t look very friendly, as if he wasn't happy that I was here.’

A puzzled look crossed his face and as if something had just come to him he asked, ‘What’s your last name Richard?’

‘It’s Green.’ I managed to whisper, as I gradually got used to my faltering voice. And as I said it, I caught a flicker of concern crossing his face, before he quickly concealed it, behind a not very convincing smile.

‘Well, Richard Green,' he said with a more genuine smile, 'I've been the only person here, but don’t worry, it must have been a figment of your imagination. It isn’t unheard of for people to experience hallucinations when they’re first revived.’