Worlds Apart

A short narrative inspired by 

Reedsy’s Weekly Writing Prompts

Written by

Robin Goodfellow

Her heart surged with activity as the metal door with a glass pane slid over her. A hiss of air rushed out. Effectually Entombed she thought to herself. She would have shouted but no one would have heard her. Or at least paid her any mind. She was of course here on her own volition. It was the string of hope lent down by Grandmother spider to free her from herself.

There were a few other bodies in the room clad in stereotypical lab attire. But everyone seemed to have their own agenda and paid no mind to the now trapped young woman enshrined like a certain notorious smuggler frozen in carbonite. They all had a role to fill in this endeavor. And it was doubtful anyone had time to act as a babysitter to a volunteer. 

Much of the technical side of how the machine operated was lost to her. It’s supposed to have the ability to put a person in a state of cryostasis using some new experimental flash freezing method using quantum particles enlaced in modified crystals or something. But to the person inside they feel like a leftover bologna sandwich in an oversized tupperware container. So, much of the scientific jargon is forgotten by the time a person wakes up from stasis that they’re lucky if they even remember their own name. 

What was she doing here? A rhetorical question that was too painful to honestly answer. Just as she thought this, one of the researchers came over to the window and peered inside smiling brightly. She pushed a button and her voice came in clearly. 

“My name is Megan and I’m here to explain some of the final technical things with you. How are you feeling?”

She shrugged unsure if the tech could hear her voice. “Okay. I guess.”

“Well, Alice. I know this wasn’t an easy decision to come to IECS but I assure you that you are in good hands. We are using the latest in Cryogenic technology to preserve our future. ” She smiled waiting for a response. “Well, as you are aware by now, we will be putting you in a cold sleep stasis for an extended period of time. The research data gained from this experiment will be revolutionary to the improvement and betterment of all as we use it to reach out into the ever reaching expanses of our universe. Intergalactic colonization will become achievable thus ending the overpopulation crisis in recent years. We hope to gain a better understanding of the effects of long term cryogenics on various illnesses such as the production of cancer cells. You will be a key in helping to save the world from disease and illness.” The words seemed rehearsed, she dragged on with a smile that felt just as much so. “The combination of the studies here with future medicine and tech will help eliminate the need for invasive procedures. This will surely be a crowning achievement in human history.”

Ok, thought Alice. “Will it hurt? What can I expect?” Those were the things more poignant on her mind rather than the altruistic overtones the researcher was dumping on her.

“There have been cases of peripheral numbness and ‘static’ pain lingering well after Retrieval. But those have been few in number. Acute retrograde amnesia has been found to occur in some of the subjects in Phase I of the study. Furthermore most of the equipment used during that Phase has been made obsolete thanks to the Jötunn XV.” She smiled again “That is the name of the device you’re currently occupying. It will keep you nice and cool while you slumber.” An attempt at a joke. Almost feels like gallows humor when you’re inside this thing. We have the greatest of hopes for you and this experiment. In one week we will wake you for your first diagnostics scan. Awake for a week, then back in for five years until the next scan. We will repeat this process at regular intervals throughout the course, and double the time awake and sleep each time. This is to prevent the equivalent of being freezer burnt from happening to you or your organs.” She frowned. "The world you know will be gone when you wake up. This is your last chance to step down from this project.”

“No. I think I’m ready. Everything I’ve ever wanted to have here was never worth having anyway.” A holoscreen appeared on the glass window and displayed the medical diagnostics of the patient. “What’s this?”

“It's exactly as it appears. It displays your current health readings and brain activity. This allows us to monitor body functions remotely so we can ease you in and out of cold sleep seamlessly. " 

"Ok. But what's the point of me seeing it too if I'm going to be conked out?"

To this, the researcher shrugged and rattled off some explanation that maintained a physical design reminiscent of ones to be used on space shuttles. Those ones will have a slightly modified OS and allow for entertainment options for non cryo sleep in the pods. 

How anyone could be "entertained" whilst in a steel coffin like this was beyond the young woman. 

In fact, the faster they put her on ice the faster she could put it all behind her. The last three months—the last three years for that matter. It was overwhelming. Her eyes closed as her chest tightened. She fought off an urge to tear up and regained herself.

"So when do I get to time travel?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm strapped inside a futuristic device that looks like H.G. Wells or Jules Verne made a love child. Have a little humor. It's the only thing that will save us all from descending into madness."

"I see. Well." She pressed a finger to her temple. "In a way you'll get to see the future before anyone else your age."

A verbal confirmation was recorded after the briefing to attest to the willingness of the participant to undergo the experiment.

After the first hiccup of a week she will finally be free from pain. Soon it will be five years from now. For the person on the inside only a few moments will have passed, while a several years will have seemingly flown by. New wrinkles will appear on these people's faces. New houses will be built. New movies and games. Homes once vacant will be refurbished with new families and new puppies. How much could possibly change; how much will I remember what hasn’t. She thought to herself as she drifted into the deepest slumber. 

Cold sleep is a lot like fainting. At first everything becomes fuzzy. Your hearing and vision are the first to get foggy. You get groggy and sluggish. Then thousands of tingling sensations race from your fingertips and toes throughout your entire body. And then a deep hot beating ache is all you feel in your chest as you feel the time creep between each pulse until nothingness. It was emptiness that was altogether comforting and terrifying. There were no dreams in this place, just the hungry void that consumed even consciousness. 

It was evening. Or at least made to look like evening. There were no windows in the research lab as the research lab was several levels below the ground floor. Alice was not able to open her eyes. Like a newborn pup she was blind to the world now, not strong enough to even see. How much time had transpired. Was the cocoon finished with its—her metamorphosis? Had she become a beautiful butterfly once more? All of a sudden it was there, a sharp pain in her chest. Where the pain was it was replaced by fire. Heat spread from her heart as it slowly picked up in rhythm. The tingling sensations erupted across her skin causing her waves of discomfort and dread. It felt like an eternity. The void was better than the pain of coming to life once more. All at once her head began to throb as splotches of light started to float around the inside of her skull pounding with an incessant boom. 

With each pump of blood from her heart gave her new feeling where none had been for what seemed like an eternity. Sure enough. She felt like shit. Diagnostics came back clean. But they ran them daily up until the one week mark. Even running from the past she couldn’t outrun testing.  

Only five years had gone by but it felt off. It felt longer and shorter and altogether confusing. Her migraine intensified not giving her any time to gather her thoughts between the pangs. She tried lifting her hand to hit the call button but she wasn’t even sure she was moving her fingers. They would have had to have known she was awake. Someone in stasis can’t wake up on their own. That was one of the terrifying aspects of this. You could go to sleep and not wake up none the wiser. The usual feeling from the first Retrieval was not nearly as bad as what she was feeling now. On the bright side a corpse wouldn’t need to be transferred to a morgue. 

“Good morning”

Her eyes searched for the source but only a halo of light filled her vision.

“Please take your time in adjusting. The Retrieval process takes approximately thirty-five minutes to complete. Please nod if you understand as speaking abruptly shortly after stasis can rupture your larynx. Please note that we have injected you with an anticoagulant to allow the heart to pump the semi icy blood through your body once more.” She droned on for what seemed a second eternity until she abruptly stopped with a “Welcome to the future.”

After all the diagnostic checks she was given a room of her own on one of the upper floors of IECS. She had to give up her apartment, her car, her career, and many other problems that had just as hard of a time as letting go of her as she did them. 

This was it. Her new start. She didn’t even have to worry about debt anymore. And all it took was a five minute nap and the worst hangover of her life. She still couldn’t feel sensation in some of her lower extremities but not enough to debilitate her from getting around. All she ever could want was provided exclusively by IECS. Including her escape from a sordid past filled with betrayals and medical testing that plagued most of her life. But it was none of these material things that she truly craved. 

It was the subtlety in between the moments that had eased her weary heart some. It was the slow acceptance that eventually any ties to her past and the people she foolishly trusted would vanish from this world. Maybe not the first five years. But surely by the time this lengthy project is over she will truly be free. And that provided some comfort. 

With a nice allowance from IECS she was given shore leave to go out and explore the new world. And the first spot for anyone of any import was the local coffee shop. It was one of the sanctuaries that Alice used to frequent to collect herself. Where she would sit and read the classics and contemplate the inevitable disintegration of languages now distorted through time with new usage—agreeable or not. It provided the best coffee and the best lighting to—but it wasn’t there. 

Canal St. looked the same but boards covered windows and foreclosure signs littered the street. Carl’s Coffee was now a squatter den for the disingenuous and maladjusted. There was no way of knowing that the shop would close but that was the way of things with small businesses. Often they’d get swallowed up or go under from much bigger franchises pushing their weight into town. What was odd here, was how many businesses were closed. And the state of the neighborhood in general. 

 “What happened here?” She looked up and down the street but only saw a few people. And those people were busy collecting cans into stolen grocery carts and pushing their life’s belongings in the only semi-mobile vehicles they could afford. 

“This used to be one of the busiest streets in town. But now it’s not even a shell. There’s no way this happened when I was gone.” Her disbelief was carried away by the smell of burning debris in steel drums. She looked around again and pulled her jacket around her tighter and made her way to the library.

As she went up the steps she bumped into a tall man with a dirty Led Zeppelin hoodie. 

“Hey aren’t you...You look familiar. Do I know you?” He stopped in front of her as she was going up the steps. 

“Sorry, I’m not interested.” As she moved to go past him, he grabbed her arm. “Let go!” She twisted away and kept walking up the steps. Oh great I thought I was free. 

“Wait. You’re Alice, right?” He laughed. She shrugged. “It’s Mark.”

“Sorry you’re mistaken. My name is Andrea.” 

“I could have sworn—”

“Sorry to get your hopes up.” She scowled. “I’m kind of in a hurry so if you’ll excuse me.” When she reached the top she turned and said, “By the way here’s some advice, sir. If you grab at someone like that again, the police will be the least of your concerns.” 

She entered the library and rushed to the restroom. The encounter left her head buzzing. She began to sweat. The cool water in the sink couldn’t seem to wash away the worry. She stared at herself in the mirror. Her face was flushed and her hair stuck to it with a certain reluctance to stay brushed to the side. 

She took some deep breaths and stared into her eyes in the mirror letting out one long sigh. Her heart rate was starting to return to normal. She grabbed some paper towels and patted herself dry and then went out to the lobby.

She brought her journal with her. A habit from her old life. She made an appropriate entry for the encounter. She thought about going back to the beginning pages to see if there were any mentions of a “Mark”. 

She turned the book over, touching the contours and scratches. She had this for a long time. It didn’t seem that long ago. She opened it up again and felt the binding where a section of pages had been. Torn out like a rotten tooth. Even if she wanted to relive her most painful memories she had removed the pages before as to limit the temptations of the past. The goal was to get rid of the ghosts, not keep them company. She remembered vaguely going through the pages and burning them the day before her participation in the IECS program. But the actual text was now as discernible in memory as it was in ashes.

It was for the best, she told herself. She knew she didn’t want to know more and that was enough. She thought about how with the next cold sleep even more of her past will be frosted over. She hoped that her encounter with this “Mark” would be one of them. Burnt up by freezing.

She gathered some periodicals and tried to see some of the events she missed in the last five years. Only more of the same. War for oil. War on race. War on terror. Politics. Pandemics. Cultural divisionism. Civil unrest. And swaths of articles on things like what brands of underwear celebrities are wearing these days. Pointless. Degradational to intellect. So much violence. So much economic disparity. She wished that when she wakes up again in ten years, people will have learned that hypocrisy is the only art that politics has to offer. And that hypocrisy is the language of sophistry. The weapon of tyranny. And she wished more so that she could wake some day in a world not fettered with pain. A wish she knew deep down could never completely be realized. The toxins that poison societies come from the very societies that are poisoned.

After her fill of depressing world affairs she went back to the lab and watched vapid shows in her loft and whittled away time waiting for her next sleep. Sleep became her promise for a better tomorrow. One that she could do nothing but keep, as there is no turning back after an eternity long dreamless slumber.