Wake Me In The Future (2 page)

‘Nothing would surprise me at the moment,’ I said rubbing my face with my freed hands, and having found my voice went on. ‘But if you’re worried I’ll suffer culture shock Ankit, don’t. I am sure I can cope with any technological advancement. Helen and I used to talk of all the things we might find in the future, we realised some of it might seem like magic to us but we’d get used to it. I am ready for just about any advance that’s been made.’

He didn’t reply, but couldn’t conceal the look that said, ‘I don’t think so,’ that briefly crossed his face as he continued to remove the restraints that held me to the cot. And now my upper body was free I shakily propped myself up on my elbows and found myself making an assessment of my reclining body. It was also dressed in a blue bodysuit, and I was pleased to see it looked in proportion to how I remembered it, although slightly more muscular, which had to be a good thing. But without actually seeing my face in a mirror I had no idea what that looked like. No, the only thing my hands could reveal about that part of me was that I was as bald as Ankit, and that definitely wasn’t a good thing.

Noticing Ankit’s own hairless head, just inches away, I found myself saying the most ridiculous thing. ‘I thought they’d cured baldness.’ It seemed as good as anything to say right then, and I expected to be given an answer in the lines of ‘well, you can’t have everything,’ or ‘this is the fashion.’

Instead, he said casually, ‘I don’t wear it in here, it’s supposed to be a sterile environment, but is this what you mean?’ and as he said it, he stood back sharply, surprised by me sitting bolt upright and nearly knocking him over; pushing myself up with my arms and looking aghast at the vision in front of me. Because within seconds, a mass of pitch black hair had begun sprouting from his head, rapidly forming into dark flowing locks that, like something alive, spun themselves to the back of his head to form a ponytail, which then fanned out around his entire head leaving only his face to be seen. It looked like he was wearing a visor-less motorbike helmet.

‘That...that’s got to be a joke,’ I stuttered.

But he just smiled and said, ‘as I told you, you’ve got a lot to learn. And anyway,’ he grinned, ‘this isn’t my usual style.’

Aghast at the newly produced mane of hair framing his face, I exclaimed, ‘my God, that’s amazing, how are you able to do that?’

‘I can’t tell you right now, you’ll begin to learn things soon enough, but today I need to ask you some questions about your identity.’

And for the next few hours I gave him a rundown on mine and Helen’s previous lives and told him of our hopes and fears about the future world I now found myself in.

When we’d finished, I looked around at the sparse white room and said, ‘So I actually made it then, I am in the future.’

To which came the reply, ‘this is now Richard - the future is a long way off - and it always will be….’

I had to smile at the thought.

‘And this is yours,’ he said, picking up a grey box from the floor and placing it on the table between us.’

‘What is it?’

‘It contains the possessions that were found with you.’

I reached out and placed a hand on the box, ‘Oh….thank you.’ I knew what was inside.

‘I’ll leave you to your memories for now, but I promise I’ll find out anything I can about Helen.

If you need anything while I am gone you can request it from here,’ he said pointing to the panel that I’d noticed earlier; ‘it’s an interface with our Information System. You should be able to get everything you need.’

‘At least I should be grateful you’re speaking English,’ I said, more to myself than him.

But as he crossed the room he glanced back, ‘no I am not’, he said, before vanishing through the wall.

After wondering for a moment, what on earth he'd meant, I pulled the grey box towards me and lifted the lid back to reveal its contents. The two tiny green stones embedded in my wedding ring looked up at me and I smiled as I reached in and slid it onto my finger. I somehow felt complete, as if I'd made a connection to my previous self, and I smiled as I picked up the broken pieces of the storage device that had once held precious images and recordings of my first life. Apart from my wedding ring, it seemed that only a few faded photos, encased in a plastic key fob, had survived.

But then, as I was moving the contents about, I saw something else at the bottom of the box, something that wasn’t a relic from my previous life. It was glowing dimly and looked like a small piece of plastic, and when I picked it up and looked down at it in the palm of my hand it began to unfold by itself. It was brighter now and five words were scrolling across its surface.
‘Be careful who you trust’
.

What on earth was this? Was it really a message for me? And who shouldn’t I trust? I didn’t like this, especially after seeing that other man standing behind Ankit when I first awoke. I was still not convinced it was just my imagination. I looked at it for a few more seconds before realising there was nothing I could do about this right now, so I folded the message back up and tucked it into a small pocket I’d found in my body suit.

Looking around the room I realised I didn’t know if it was night or day, and I still felt incredibly tired, so I lay back on the cot to relax.

Before I knew it I’d become so relaxed that I really should have drifted into a restful sleep, but I couldn’t close my mind off, it kept jumping back to Helen. And strangely enough, the one episode in our whole relationship, which I'd purposely blocked out, at least for all the time I’d survived her, for some reason, now came rushing back. And as the light in the room slowly dimmed and went out, I began to recall the very last time I’d seen my wife.

Chapter 02
– First Goodbye

In a strange way I’d been looking forward to her dying. It was going to mark the beginning of something new – for us both.

And, if the meeting I’d just had with her doctor was anything to go by, neither I nor Helen had very long to wait. We’d both come to terms with the inevitability of it, and her condition had nearly run its course; my guilty subconscious just wanted it to be over, partly for my sake, as much as hers.

So, despite the aches and pains my aging body was offering up, I’d leaned over the hospital bed and looked down into her familiar eyes. Even then, beneath the film of tears, they were still as clear and green as the Emerald stones embedded in my wedding ring; just as my own blue eyes mirrored the fresh dazzling hue of the Sapphires, which sparkled from the ring on her gnarled and frail hand.

I’d recalled how long it had been since we’d exchanged those rings, and how, in the intervening years, they’d served as a constant reminder of the bond between us. As early lovers the contrasting colour of our eyes had been a frivolous topic of conversation, and a gentle smile crossed my face as I remembered the private ditty we’d always shared. ‘
Blue and green should never be seen,’
one of us would begin, then go on to chant together, ‘
except in the eyes of R and H Green’
.

Those bands of precious metal and stones, along with the love in both our hearts, had endured the years unscathed. Only our bodies had succumbed to the ravages of time and placed us there, perhaps not at the end of our time together, but most certainly at the mercy of fate.

She was at the point where she could no longer speak, and the little strength she had left was virtually beyond her control, as its focus was drawn to the pain, making its last push to overcome her failing body. Although she was able to hear my words of comfort over the humming of the vigilant machines that stood guard around her bed, what little communication she had with me was reduced to sight and touch. And even as those last faculties begun to ebb away, her eyes clung to me and filled with tears, as if knowing they’d soon be still.

Yet they made a last effort to respond to what she called my ‘charming smile’, which she’d said altered my whole face and never failed to lift her spirits.

Responding to her desperate effort to communicate I slowly mouthed the words I’d said countless times, ‘I love you Helen,’ and then moving closer still I whispered, ‘I’ll wake you in the future.’

We’d often speculated about this time; wondering if everyone becomes aware when death is close and the finality of it eventually gains acceptance in the rejecting consciousness. Or was it just a physical process, when the body’s last dregs of energy seep away and there’s nothing left to fight with; when the effort to stay in this world becomes too much, and the fear of the unknown becomes just a little more acceptable? This had certainly been our experience, and of those people we’d known who had also been close to the dying. How they’d spoke of feeling powerless in the presence of the inevitable, and their anger at Time, and it’s relentless march into the past, taking their loved ones with it, into the fading realms of distant memories.

Whatever the truth was, that time had arrived for Helen, and the connection we made with our eyes was almost telepathic as we passed the understanding between us. She knew…….I knew - it was finally here.

A strained smile crossed her face and then very slowly left it, and as much as she struggled to keep her eyes in contact with mine, she failed, and they slowly turned as if to stare at something else, calling to her, in the distance beyond my shoulders. Death had won another battle and in its victory dance it chased the final flicker of life from her sparkling eyes, to join the solitary tear that fell from her cheek onto the white linen pillow. It formed a tiny wet circle there, as if to mark a full stop at the end of her story, or perhaps, if all went well, only to the end of the first chapter.

We’d been alone in the small, quite and peaceful room of the institute. As it should have been, and as we’d planned. Suddenly loneliness had descended on me for the first time that I could remember, and it encouraged the tears that began to moisten my face, before I eventually lost the fight to control my emotions. With my forehead pressed against our entwined fingers I gave myself up to the sobbing that racked my shoulders and I felt my warm tears burst free from where I’d stoically kept them locked away.

After a few moments had passed, a strange calm seemed to descend on me, and with great effort I raised my head, sniffed back my tears and shrugged my shoulders, shaking the control back into myself. Then taking a deep breath I said calmly, and as if she could still hear me, ‘yes, I know, I promised I wouldn’t cry. I’ll call them in now,’ and with that, I leaned over and pressed the red call button on the wall near her bed.

It was like an out of body experience; like watching it all happen through a milky lens. Within seconds the room was full of people wearing green surgical gowns, tubes were being removed from my wife, wires being unplugged. I knew they had to act quickly to give her the best chance possible and this was obviously a well practiced routine, but it both seemed to happen in slow motion and at super speed. Because before I knew it, they were gone, and I’d suddenly found I was alone in the room. Sitting in the same chair that only moments ago I’d been speaking to my wife from, staring at the space left by the bed they’d wheeled out. Time had already made its move, swooped down, snatched Helen from me, and marched inexorably on.

Neither of us had ever been religious people. Oh, I’d reluctantly gone to Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve because she'd somehow thought it romantic, but our own particular beliefs excluded any acknowledgement of an omnipotent intelligence that oversaw the lives of everyone on the planet. No, I was definitely not religious, but, just as so many people did in times of stress, worry and fear, I set that disbelief aside, put my hands together and prayed. ‘Please God,’ and pressing my face into my palms, as if somehow it would strengthen the plea, ‘let it work.’

What I was doing was useless; I knew that; all I could do from then on was cling to hope. Hang on to it and keep the faith – and not the religious kind - that her journey would be successful. For her mind was shut down now, and when, or if, it awoke, only seconds would seem to have passed for her. She would have arrived at her destination in what to her would be the blink of an eye. But for me, I knew it would take the rest of my life, and a whole lot of luck, before I could join her.

And when that time had eventually arrived, I had been able to share the rest of her journey; a journey that had bought me here, hopefully to a peaceful and civilised future. Now all I had to do - was find Helen.

Chapter 03
– Assessment

The room was bathed in that eerie half light that accompanied early morning, that pervasive radiance which promised the sun was just over the horizon and the day was on its way. As the light gradually increased, so did my awareness; slowly returning to me the realisation of my present situation.

I was in a world of wonders; I knew that much at least, on a journey to somewhere I’d yet to even learn about, and the only thing I could be certain of right now, was that I’d be asking questions every single step of the way. But while my subconscious mind churned blithely along, already beginning to compile those very questions, my conscious mind was content with the knowledge that I was alive and that, if all went well, I’d soon be embracing my Helen once again.

I was satisfied, at the moment at least, to lie where I was and enjoy the experience of welcoming a new day, albeit an artificially induced one. And when the light, and my consciousness, had fully returned to the room, I stretched and yawned. And even though I’d slept on something that would have looked more at home in some kind of institution, it had moulded itself to my contours, leaving me incredibly relaxed.

The table and chairs were no longer in the room, but a small bathroom had appeared in the corner that offered the basic provisions for my morning ablutions. Thankfully, one important thing the new room had was a mirror, and I stood for a long time inspecting my face that was, I thanked God, just as I’d remembered it back when I was in my twenties. And as I held my arms up to obscure my baldness, in an attempt to remember my face, I had to chuckle at what Helen would have thought of my vanity.