We’ll Meet Again

Ever wondered what the colour white smells like? If it smells like anything, it’d be like the air in this examination room. Stale air that seemed to have stood still, with a hint of weak disinfectant that’s almost undetectable. All walls in this room were white; all the machineries, equipment and tools were too. Computer screens beeping, graphs flashing, different coloured lines representing Clive’s vitals cross-wiring.

“Are you scared?” The technician asked while clicking through Clive’s health reports on the computer.

“No.” Clive replied, laid down flat on the examination chair with his sight fixated on a small crack in the white ceiling.

“Nervous?” The technician continued her attempt to initiate a small talk.

“No.” Clive responded with a sense of calmness, perhaps too calmed.

“Because it’s where I need to be.” Clive followed up after a few seconds of silence.

“Okay…” The technician was clearly puzzled, but she didn’t care as it wasn’t her job to. “Anyway, your body is looking good. I think you’re all ready for next week. Now just keep up with the diet and exercise, have lots of rest until then.” The technician explained without taking her eyes off the computer screen.  

Clive got up from the chair without another word, grabbed his shirt and started to put it on.

As he did up the last button, the door of the examination room opened. Clive walked out and didn’t look back.

***

In the year of 2183, cryotechnology made a new breakthrough.

In a chilly morning in December, news outlets around the world broke the news.

“For over a century, scientists have put countless human bodies into deep freeze in the name of research but none of them have solved the fundamental issue of how to defreeze them undamaged.” The news anchor reported. “But today, cryotechnology giant Vision X Inc. announced they might have just cracked the code. Their latest trial shows 100% success rate in reviving bodies that have been stored in the company’s super-coolers, aka the Halo machines, with full memory and neuromotor retrieval. For these men and women who stepped into the Halo machines decades ago, it’s like time just froze...” 

“Dr James Hoggins from the Lincoln Medical Centre calling for Clive Madison.” A robotic female voice announced an incoming call as the volume of the television turned down automatically.

Clive tapped on the receiver at the back of his right ear with his eyes still glued to the television screen, trying to read what the news anchor was reporting through the subtitles.

“It’s time.” On the other end of the phone was a familiar voice. Clive had been looking forward to this phone call for 18 years. 

“I’ll come in tomorrow.” Clive ended the call. He was relieved that the wait was finally over, but he didn’t let it show. He couldn’t let it show.

***

6:45am. It had been two weeks since the phone call from Dr Hoggins, and one since Clive was at the technician’s examination room. Today’s the day.

Clive poured himself a black coffee. The coffee was still hot, so hot you could see the steam rising from the rim of the ceramic cup.

Clive hadn’t used this ceramic cup for a long time. It had a girly pink and purple floral design, which looked out of place in Clive’s minimalistic, metal-toned apartment. It was so old you could see the small yet very visible cracks all over it. It looked like it could disintegrate any second and Clive really shouldn’t be using it, but it could be the last morning he would ever be able to use this cup, so he did it anyway.

The cup used to be Clive’s dad’s favourite despite its unmanly appearance, because it was a prize from a funfair he and Clive’s mum went for their first date. They won it playing a hoopla game. Clive’s dad thought it was such a silly game, but Clive’s mum insisted. The night ended up being the first of many fun nights for Clive’s parents, and the cup also ended up staying. The cup had been a witness to their perfect life together, it’s almost like each crack stored a different happy memory, until their life wasn’t perfect anymore.

“Appointment at Lincoln Medical Centre in 45 minutes.” The same robotic female voice again.

Clive was lost for a moment on his trip down memory lane, but he snapped back quickly. The coffee was now lukewarm. Clive took two big gulps, put the empty cup into his backpack, and hurried out the door.

***

“I can see your vitals are all good from last week’s test.” Dr Hoggins said.

Clive was back at the examination room. No matter how many times you had been in this room, the feeling of eeriness persisted. Although everything was white, it couldn’t feel more like a black hole, where things never come out after going in.

“I don’t see why you can’t go into the Halo machine today. But are you sure?” Dr Hoggins continued as he ran his fingers through his thin grey hair. When he squinted his eyes, his wrinkles would unfold behind his glasses, which somehow could soothe your nerves knowing the years of experience and knowledge that came with them.

“We’ve been preparing for this for 18 years. I’m sure.” Clive replied.

“I know we’re doing this for your father, but you can still change your mind. We can only pull you out of the Halo machine once, it means for this to even have the slightest chance of working you’ll need to stay in there for over 400 years. It’ll be a different world then, and even if you do find him…” Dr Hoggins explained with concerns. It wasn’t an easy decision for him, as he had grown to be protective of Clive over the past 18 years. Clive looked just like his father, sometimes Dr Hoggins saw so much of him in Clive, it was what had kept him going all this time.

“You promised him.” Clive stood his ground.

“I know, but what if it doesn’t work…” Dr Hoggins hung onto his last fragment of hope.

“It has to work. He was – is – your best friend.” Clive corrected himself, putting his hand on Dr Hoggins’ arm, asking him to let go. “We can’t talk anymore here, they’re watching.”

“Very well then…” Dr Hoggins took one last deep breath, breathed out, and pulled himself together. He leaned back and adjusted the collar of his lab coat, trying to revert to the neuroscientist he needed to be instead of the father figure he never was.

“Jeanine, prep the Halo machine in section 17.” Dr Hoggins activated the communications system. “We’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

***

It happened 18 years ago. Clive would never forget that night, neither would Dr Hoggins.

It was early October, and the first leaves just started to fall. The air was crisp, and that night’s sky was so clear, the full moon almost lit up the city rendering the streetlights unnecessary.

Clive just started his senior year in high school, and his future was limitless. He wanted to be a physicist just like his dad, but also a neurologist like his mum. They were both always so enthusiastic about their respective research areas and how the two could combine and transform the humankind. They didn’t tell Clive much as he was too young to understand, and when Clive’s mum died in an unexpected car accident when he was just 12, his dad started living in his own bubble and barely talked to anyone else.

Clive hung around his dad’s lab a lot, as it was the only way to stay close to him. Clive had learned to create his own space and habituated a little corner in the lab with a small wooden desk, covered in fictional books and loose papers he had doodled on. Clive’s dad had no work schedule. He worked until he was either tired or hungry. Over time, the lab had become more like home to Clive and his dad than their apartment.

Clive liked science fictions, and his dad encouraged it. It was the very few connections Clive had left with his dad. “A bit of imagination,” Clive’s dad used to say, “is what moves us forward.”

10pm, Dr Hoggins rushed through the door, reaching for his lab coat on his way in.

“What is it? What’s with the urgent call?” Dr Hoggins walked towards Clive’s dad.

Clive was burying his face in an old Stephen King classic at his little corner, but looked up to see what was happening.

“I think I’ve finally figured it out.” Clive’s dad burst out in excitement. “All my calculations are matching up and I’ve also recalibrated the prototype, the machine will work. I can now send my conscious mind into the future and it will imprint on a brain that is just forming in a growing foetus.”

The prototype Clive’s dad built looked just like something that had been pulled straight out of a sci fi movie. It had a metallic frame fitted with clear carbon fibre walls, making it extremely strong and tolerant to stress. It was big enough to hold a single person, and its ceiling was connected to a helmet covered in electrodes and connecting pads. Inside of the prototype also had two handles at the opposing ends, fused to the metallic frame. The whole frame was linked to the main power and a supercomputer that Clive’s dad programmed. Only he knew how to operate the system.  

“What? How do you even know that’s going to work? Even if it does work how will you prove it when you won’t remember a thing?” Dr Hoggins flicked through hundreds of pages of Clive’s dad’s calculations that were lying on the bench and tried to make sense of them, but he’s a neurologist not a physicist. The formulae just looked like random scribbles.

“The memory will hold as it’s an artificial transfer, our minds all came from someone else in the past but when people die in a natural way their memory is lost in the organic transfer, that’s why we don’t remember our past lives.” Clive’s dad explained.

“Well, that’s your wife’s theory, it’s possible on paper but it has never been tested since she passed…” Dr Hoggins urged.

“On paper is good enough for me. I only have one shot for the both of us. If this succeeds, it will prove both of our works…” Clive’s dad was so desperate he almost sounded like he had lost his mind.

“What is going on?” Clive emerged from his little corner and walked towards his dad and Dr Hoggins.

Clive’s dad turned around, sat Clive down and kneeled in front of him. “Your mum and I have been working on this since you were a baby. She would have wanted me to finish it. I have to finish what she had started, what we have started.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, the university cut your funding for a reason as these are all just theoretical, you aren’t even meant to build this prototype in the first place!” Dr Hoggins was getting desperate too, trying to talk some sense into Clive’s dad. “You’re my best friend, I can’t let you do this!”

“If you’re really my best friend you’ll let me. Please. Your research on cryotechnology is close as well, is it not? Help Clive find me in the future.” He turned to Clive.

“Close? It’s nowhere near close!” Dr Hoggins exclaimed, but Clive’s dad didn’t care.

“To prove my time travel theory, I’m setting this to 400 years from now. Take this cup with you so I will know it’s you…” Clive’s dad handed Clive the ceramic cup, which was stained from days of black coffee consumption.

“I really don’t know what’s happening right now. You’re scaring me, dad.” Clive started to panic. It felt like the room was closing in on him.

“Don’t worry, Clive. We’ll meet again. Dr Hoggins will help you.” Clive’s dad went on and stepped into the prototype after activating it on the supercomputer, and slowly put on the helmet and fastened it.

“Dad?” Clive was still confused.

“Don’t put this on me…” Dr Hoggins threatened.

“Thank you, my dear friend. And I love you, son.” It was the last thing he said to Clive and Dr Hoggins.

BEEP ---------------------

The prototype made a loud beep that lasted only for a few seconds but felt like a lifetime, then everything went silent. No one was talking anymore, and no one was arguing back. The silence turned into a ringing sound, and time stood still. Clive and Dr Hoggins were in shock and there was nothing they could do. Clive’s dad was motionless in the prototype.

***

Clive and Dr Hoggins left the examination room and headed towards section 17.

Dr Hoggins whispered under his breath, “We have 5 minutes from here to section 17. Everyone thought your dad killed himself from depression after your mum died, but we both know it’s not true. We’ve kept his secret for all these years as everyone thought his research was insane and no one cared to continue it.”

“Dr Hoggins, I know. But we’d better not talk about it, if they hear us and find out my real motive, it’ll just trigger a non-stop cycle of psych evaluations and I’ll never get into the Halo machine.” Clive whispered back.

“Just let me get if off my chest, please. It’s the last time I’ll ever speak with you. I’m old, you see. I love you and I loved your father, I’m proud of who you’ve become and what you’re doing for him. Tell him I said hi when you see him.” Dr Hoggins tried to hold back his tears. He knew he’d miss Clive, even though their relationship was built on the most unbelievable circumstances.  

“I love you too. And I will.” Clive had become a master of keeping his emotions under wraps, but he meant every word he said, and he knew Dr Hoggins needed to hear it too.

Down at the end of the hallway was section 17. Jeanine peeked through the small glass window from the other side and saw Dr Hoggins and Clive. She pushed open the heavy triple locked door.

“The Halo machine is ready.” Jeanine said. “Clive, you can keep one personal item with you in your storage pocket, can I please have it?”

Clive slowly pulled the ceramic cup out from his backpack. “This is it.” He passed it over to Jeanine.

“It’s an unusual item to bring to the future.” Jeanine examined the cup before putting it into the storage pocket inside of the Halo machine Clive was about to go into.

Jeanine continued, “Clive, can you please confirm the extraction date is to be set for the year 2595? May I remind you it’ll be 412 years from now?” Jeanine reiterated.

“Yes. I confirm.” Clive provided his consent. By the time he woke up, the body that’s hosting Clive’s dad’s mind, consciousness and memory would be around 30 years old.

“Okay then, I just need you to authorise this. Please scan your thumb print here.” Jeanine held up an e-contract.

After Clive signed it, Jeanine passed it onto Dr Hoggins, “And authorisation from the lead researcher please.”

“Thank you for your service, Clive Madison. Your contribution to science is much appreciated. The future awaits when you’re awake.” Jeanine welcomed Clive to settle into the Halo machine.

“Bye Clive.” Dr Hoggins said.

“Bye Dr Hoggins.” Clive closed his eyes as Jeanine shut the lid of the Halo machine. Darkness had never felt so peaceful. And with darkness comes the light, even though it wouldn't arrive for another 412 years.

***

- End -