139 Years to the End of the World

Door to Tomorrow, Part One

The future is terrifying for any person, let alone an everyday school teacher like myself. When faced with just the talk of the future, most people recoil in uncertainty. Yet, when presented with the physical manifestation of it, we're given either wonder or fear. Or sometimes, both.

As the platform rose from from the Cryo-Tube, I got to my feet, unbuttoning the custom pyjamas made for me, freeing my hands and feet from their woolly prison. When the view of my surroundings came to light, I was awestruck by the sight of them. Not by the differences, but lack-thereof. The walls were still pearl white, and every machine and consoles were exactly where they were when I last saw them. Nothing had changed. There's no way I was seven years in the future, Impossible! my mind screamed. And yet, my gut knew it was the truth. The tone of the colour of the floor, the small scratch marks on the shells of the machines, every minute detail jumped at me. It was dizzying.

The platform screeched from its old parts – unmoved for three quarters a decade – as it came to a bumpy halt.

G stood beside me, scanning the entirety of my face, ignoring the fact that my body was soaked to the bones with the blue liquid used to freeze me. I looked to him quizzically, asking, "What's wrong?"

He cracked a smile, "You haven't age a day."

"Why do you sound more surprise than I am?" I asked. "You guys are in charge of this project right?"

"Heh, you're right about that."

I took a step forward, only to have G reach out and grab my arm as my legs buckled.

"Take it slow," he said, also removing the paste-on ECG from my chest in the process. "Your body's seven years ahead of your mind."

"Right," I replied, suddenly feeling the daze. With G's help, I descended the ladder, followed by the agent himself. I glanced around the chamber, scanning through the men and women in lab coats working at their respective consoles, not even once looking me in the eye. "Where's Professor Leah?" I asked.

"The freezing canister malfunctioned so we had to pull you out on short noticed," G replied, "She's at home and just got notified."

Up till that moment, I had assumed the agents and the professor had just lived at the E.F.A Headquarters. I have no idea why I thought that. I guessed the trio just had that air of professionalism and work centric personality about them. It didn't even occur to me the possibility that they had lives outside of work. Then the question hit me.

G passed me a walking stick, which I waved away, and paced himself beside, directing me to the changing room with his steps. I followed, leaving a trail of blue behind. I casually asked, "What about Agent Matthews? Home with the wife and kids?"

As soon as the question left my mouth, I could tell something was wrong. G slowed his pace and stared down at his feet. "He uh...passed away last year," he choked out.

"What?" the news hit me harder than it should. "I just saw him ten minutes ago."

"Yup," G replied grimly. "It would seem that way to you."

That was the first mistake I made in my short, fifteen days journey. One of many I admit. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, but foresight we have none. From where I stand now, what I had said was not only selfish, but stupid. In turn, my solution seemed equally retarded in answer.

"Sorry about your loss."

The agent took a deep breath through his nose and changed the subject. "We've notified your wife that we're bringing you out. She's got something planned for you. I'll bring you to her location. Professor Hullway will be there as well."