Altered Tundra
mickilennial
Silence. Silence and darkness stretched in every direction, interrupted only by the occasional point of light made by a distant star. All that existed in this void were barren masses of rock and metal, asteroids and exoplanets, expelled from their home systems by cosmic forces and left adrift. These, and one tiny craft moving along through the endless black. It maintained a steady pace but the movement seemed almost irrelevant in comparison to the vastness of space.
Inside the craft, the pervasive silence had seeped through the hull. It hung especially heavy in one room, like the silence that comes before a great storm, when all things that can have fled in fear and all that remains is what will soon be swept up in the approaching chaos.
This room was dark except for six tiny lights, five blue and one green. The blue lights glowed on the open doors of empty stasis pods. Their sleek surfaces were barely illuminated by the status lights. Only one pod was closed, the green light indicating that stasis was being successfully maintained within it. Then, with a singular tone that brushed aside the perturbing silence like so much dust, the green light became yellow.
The process of reanimation had begun.
Faded images and sluggish figures drifted in and out of mnemonic fog as Emilia lay dreaming, if one could even call such undeveloped fragments “dreams”. Her brain was just beginning to resume higher functions. The stasis process had used a series of chemical solutions to force her body into complete metabolic cessation, right down to the cellular level. Now, it was restarting her with a different set of injections delivered by the intravenous line connected to her right arm. Her eyelids quivered and her fingers twitched as the second round of stimulants was moved through her veins by the sluggish beating of her heart.
Finally, her pale-green eyes slowly opened. It was dim at first within the pod but the lights were growing brighter by the second. Her pupils failed to contract at the same rate, though, and the light began to sting. It took several seconds for her groggy mind to think to simply close her eyes.
There was a soft hiss and the sound of liquid flowing. Emilia's eyes snapped open. With a final dose, reanimation was complete. Her reflexes were fully restored now so the crisp, bright light filling the pod was no longer blinding. Another hiss accompanied the opening of the pod doors opened and Emilia felt her body begin to float away from her pod. There was no artificial gravity in the stark white room, nor anywhere else on the ship. Her self-awareness returned piece by piece. The tension of her hair on her scalp, tied back tightly with an elastic band, the squeeze of a neoprene uniform against her skin from neck to ankle, the chill air prickling the hairs on her bare arms, the softness of the socks on her feet and the boots over them.
There was a tug on her arm that quickly became painful. The I.V. line was pulled taught, keeping her tethered to the pod and shifting the needle in her vein. She winced as she pulled the thin steel from her arm. Drops of blood floated away in tiny crimson bubbles until the smallest of scabs formed over the wound.
Her mind felt clearer with every passing moment. Her eyes followed the disconnected I.V. line as it was autonomously reeled back into the pod. A stab of terror reached into her chest when she saw that the other five pods were empty. Where was the rest of the crew? Was she completely alone here? What happened? What had gone so wrong? Her heart raced and her head throbbed as she tried to remember but stasis was not without its side effects. She could remember her name, her profession, even departing Earth for this mission, which had clearly not gone as planned. The memories of everything thereafter were increasingly incomplete, though, as she unsuccessfully tried to retrace the events that had led to her entering the stasis pod. She closed her eyes in an effort to concentrate better.
Her back brushed against the ceiling as she continued to drift weightlessly through the room. The sensation struck a familiar chord somewhere in her mind. She opened her eyes to see that the sterile, calm white of the stasis room had been replaced by stainless steel and emergency lights flashing red all around her. A different place, a different ship. She was weightless still, but looking down a hallway that was somehow both familiar and foreign at once. Her back brushed against something. She began to turn. Her blood became ice and time seemed to slow as she started to scream and then...
White.
Emilia stared up at the paneled ceiling of the stasis room. Her eyes were wide and her heart continued to pound. The scream was still stuck in her throat as she floated, paralyzed by a fear of something she couldn't remember. She tried to calm herself to no avail. Her mind was overwhelmed by the primordial urge to flee, but from what?
Elsewhere on the ship, a message flashed on a computer screen:
Inside the craft, the pervasive silence had seeped through the hull. It hung especially heavy in one room, like the silence that comes before a great storm, when all things that can have fled in fear and all that remains is what will soon be swept up in the approaching chaos.
This room was dark except for six tiny lights, five blue and one green. The blue lights glowed on the open doors of empty stasis pods. Their sleek surfaces were barely illuminated by the status lights. Only one pod was closed, the green light indicating that stasis was being successfully maintained within it. Then, with a singular tone that brushed aside the perturbing silence like so much dust, the green light became yellow.
The process of reanimation had begun.
Faded images and sluggish figures drifted in and out of mnemonic fog as Emilia lay dreaming, if one could even call such undeveloped fragments “dreams”. Her brain was just beginning to resume higher functions. The stasis process had used a series of chemical solutions to force her body into complete metabolic cessation, right down to the cellular level. Now, it was restarting her with a different set of injections delivered by the intravenous line connected to her right arm. Her eyelids quivered and her fingers twitched as the second round of stimulants was moved through her veins by the sluggish beating of her heart.
Finally, her pale-green eyes slowly opened. It was dim at first within the pod but the lights were growing brighter by the second. Her pupils failed to contract at the same rate, though, and the light began to sting. It took several seconds for her groggy mind to think to simply close her eyes.
There was a soft hiss and the sound of liquid flowing. Emilia's eyes snapped open. With a final dose, reanimation was complete. Her reflexes were fully restored now so the crisp, bright light filling the pod was no longer blinding. Another hiss accompanied the opening of the pod doors opened and Emilia felt her body begin to float away from her pod. There was no artificial gravity in the stark white room, nor anywhere else on the ship. Her self-awareness returned piece by piece. The tension of her hair on her scalp, tied back tightly with an elastic band, the squeeze of a neoprene uniform against her skin from neck to ankle, the chill air prickling the hairs on her bare arms, the softness of the socks on her feet and the boots over them.
There was a tug on her arm that quickly became painful. The I.V. line was pulled taught, keeping her tethered to the pod and shifting the needle in her vein. She winced as she pulled the thin steel from her arm. Drops of blood floated away in tiny crimson bubbles until the smallest of scabs formed over the wound.
Her mind felt clearer with every passing moment. Her eyes followed the disconnected I.V. line as it was autonomously reeled back into the pod. A stab of terror reached into her chest when she saw that the other five pods were empty. Where was the rest of the crew? Was she completely alone here? What happened? What had gone so wrong? Her heart raced and her head throbbed as she tried to remember but stasis was not without its side effects. She could remember her name, her profession, even departing Earth for this mission, which had clearly not gone as planned. The memories of everything thereafter were increasingly incomplete, though, as she unsuccessfully tried to retrace the events that had led to her entering the stasis pod. She closed her eyes in an effort to concentrate better.
Her back brushed against the ceiling as she continued to drift weightlessly through the room. The sensation struck a familiar chord somewhere in her mind. She opened her eyes to see that the sterile, calm white of the stasis room had been replaced by stainless steel and emergency lights flashing red all around her. A different place, a different ship. She was weightless still, but looking down a hallway that was somehow both familiar and foreign at once. Her back brushed against something. She began to turn. Her blood became ice and time seemed to slow as she started to scream and then...
White.
Emilia stared up at the paneled ceiling of the stasis room. Her eyes were wide and her heart continued to pound. The scream was still stuck in her throat as she floated, paralyzed by a fear of something she couldn't remember. She tried to calm herself to no avail. Her mind was overwhelmed by the primordial urge to flee, but from what?
Elsewhere on the ship, a message flashed on a computer screen:
Stasis terminated...
Reanimation successful...
Pod 6 vacated.
Reanimation successful...
Pod 6 vacated.
