You haven't aged a day!

Asher let out a familiar sigh, admitting she was cutting it close enough. The last 20 minutes in bed had been a routine escape, indulging in memories of what life used to mean for her. It was soothing yet artificial. This morning's escape was a simple but effective one, an early morning walk with her dog Norman. The fact that she sometimes treated that as a trivial errand brought up tight feelings of painful regret. What she would give for this simple pleasure that was now a world away…literally. 

It's not that she cared about running late for the 'Morning Objectives' meeting, those had become miserably transparent months ago. What innovative smoke and mirrors will it be today? she thought. Muffled conversations hurried past outside as she pulled herself up to get dressed. Her uniform was faded and creased with stress, the once shiny emblem of the Chronos crew - a slim hourglass turned on its side to imitate the infinity symbol - was now dull and barely holding onto the forest green fabric. 

The outside conversations became overwhelmed by the synchronized grumbling of the numerous speakers scattered about her quarters: “Morning Objectives!” “Our Work Continues!” Asher moved to face her bathroom mirror, finding it amusing how inaudible the crackling intercom messages were recently. Even the ship's basic infrastructure was crumbling! She chuckled to herself, said “Well either that or I'm getting ol…” Silence now assaulted her quarters, sending fear surging through her spine and taking hold. It’d been months since her last slip up. 

She reflected on how different it had been in those weeks fresh out the freezers. Freezers being the eternity pods all trialists had signed up to being locked away in. Just 1 week after leaving earth they were briefed before it all began. “You 20 brave gladiators have chosen to stare death in the face…and laugh!” one admin had said as they were guided like cattle to their pods. She continued excitedly “We will turn our backs on father time”.

Asher recalled how she had approached her pod, as if it would bite. It was oval and crystal clear. It let off a deep menacing hum and was filled with a transparent sludge, it was silver tinged and shimmered deceptively. “Why are the coffins transparent?” Asher shouted, not taking her eyes off the flashing screen at the base of the pod. The admin fired a cold look towards her “#13! As we have told you already, the pods are transparent so that we can safely monitor you all with the utmost clarity” she spoke confidently above a layer of fanaticism. The matriarchal admin composed herself, with a smug smile she added “Remember?”.

Her awareness returned to her defeated reflection. She accepted it may already be too late, that she’d be swept away by a blurring wave of admins any second. Rushed to the shadows within the lower decks where they processed violators. Still she gathered herself and said flatly “Cold…I’m getting cold, maybe seasonal flu”. Seconds passed before the speakers around her begrudgingly resumed their commands at full volume “Final Call For Objectives!”. Asher managed a defeated smile, she was tickled by the idea of the administrators buying that she, in space, was coming down with a seasonal flu. 

But she felt confident they gave no regard for logic anymore, nothing other than that one looming topic. Asher had come to the conclusion weeks back with the help of #5 - Jayce, that the admins were struggling to maintain the intercom system. As a result any attempts to gather information and punish those heard to be denying the truth of the Chronos mission was hindered. It left them no choice but to shut off all nearby speakers when a potential violation was occurring.

Asher and Jayce had found this deeply worrying. All the admins ranted about was the truth of the chronos mission, the importance of our work, the greater importance to reprimand those speaking of that which was now “non-existent” as they put it. If their main tool for monitoring this truth of theirs was crumbling… What else within the chronos was?.

 “Final Call For objec..Final Call For Objec..Final Call For Objec” the speaker blurted out in a panic. The question deserved more thought but would have to wait. Asher leaned in for one final examination of her tired self. As she started to turn her head jerked back to the mirror, nervously she reached up to her head. 

Her action was that of a slow factory line robot, she plucked out a hair with sadly little resistance and held it up. The long silver strand of hair swung side to side like a pendulum. Her theory was right, the Chronos mission was a sham, the admins, frauds. This however provided her no sense of joy. Surely the admins know they’ve failed? She thought. Why keep up the act…unless…they can't get us home.

She carefully placed the hair in her pocket. Turning her back on the reflection she rushed out to the Morning Objectives meeting. The blaring intercom system was now a small white noise to her as she charged down the dull steel corridors of the chronos, one thought dominating her mind, “We’re still aging”.

Jayce kept his eyes forward and facial movements minimal as Asher shot down to the seat beside him. Sarcastically whispered  “2 minutes late, you know just because we apparently have all the time in the world now doesn't excuse bei-” 

“Shut up!” she said. Turning a worrying glance to Jayce that said she was apologetic for the harsh response but now was not the time.

“Sorry.. What gives? Are you ok?” The look of deep concern he gave re-assured her of their mutual trust. Above them Administrators had started filing across the wide balcony, almost religiously. The meeting would kick off momentarily.

She motioned carefully, as if defusing a bomb in her pocket, revealing to Jayce what they’d long suspected. They were still truly human, time lay ahead of them still, a path with a certain end. How close this end now seemed, that's what alarmed them.