139 Years to the End of the World

The Winter Train, Part One

Solemn air hung in the chamber. The humming of the Cryo-Tube being the only song that sang from the echoes of the room. I stood in front of the newly upgraded Cryo-Tube. Smaller than even the one before, the machine was now just a pod, slightly larger than my height and width. A single human-sized tank of freezing liquid stuck to its back, with pipes connected to larger tanks at the sides. As with the previous model, this one had a curved glass cover for the entrance, though it did not have any of the cumbersome medical equipments and wires dangling on the inside, making it look neater and more 'household' in atmosphere.

I noted the obvious, "You changed it again."

Professor Leah stepped up beside me, looking up and down the machine herself. "Yeah. We have to get with the times. Things are changing," she said. "Need to upgrade. Everything is different now."

I replied, "But you look the same." Despite the years, her appearance looked exactly as it was when I last saw her. Golden haired with barely a trace of grey. It was as if time had left her behind.

"Being cryogenically frozen does that to us. Exterior overcompensating while the interior moves forward. Don't let my looks fool you, I am pretty old. Eternal youth may be real now, but eternal life? Not so much." She looked to me with a smile. "If you live long enough, you'll be young forever too."

"That's a big 'if'," I replied, turning to face the rest of the room. For the first time, I saw the smudges on the wall, the greying of the once marble-white paint and the grime that had stuck itself to the corners.

Leila and G were discussing the working of the new machine with the engineers while Parker prepared the medical instruments with his assistants.

"G. Joan. Myself," Leah continued, "We might not all be here the next time you wake up. And really. I know I look young, but I am an old woman now."

"Don't say that," I replied, trying to comfort her, even though I was sure she did not need it. "I'm sure you'll all still be well and good when I get back."

"There's no need to lie. It's the truth. Everybody dies some day. I wished someone had said that to me when I went to sleep." She recounted her experience being the first cryogenically frozen human. "I woke up and...so many people I knew were gone. I wasn't prepared for it. "

"Well, I'm prepared for it now."

"Are you?" she asked with a questioning look which borderlines worry. "You do know that, for you, Joan is dead. Right?" she said without hesitation or ill-intent.

I didn't reply her. I just stood in silence, subconsciously rubbing my new metal arm. Logically, I would never see Joan again. But a part of me wanted, hoped, pleaded, that she would make it just another year. If I woke up earlier, I would be able to see her at least once more. She wasn't suppose to die before I did. That thought had never crossed my mind. I closed my eyes, the image of her burnt into my memories. I wondered for how long I would be able to retain it. If I would be able to carry her smile with me to my grave.

Leila ran up to me, away from her conversation. On the way over, she looked just like that child that was running into my arms from yesteryears.

"Alright dad, we're ready for you," she said. Upon noticing the grim look on my face, she rubbed my shoulder affectionately, even though I could not feel it. "And remember. I'm still here."

I smiled back, attempting to assure her. I wasn't sure if it worked, for her smile back was less a smile than a forced pull of a muscle. Then, for the first time that day, I noticed the silver ring on her ring finger. "You're married?"

She smiled gawkily, holding out her hands for me to see ring clearly. "Ten years."

"Who is this man?" I asked, feeling my fatherly over-protectiveness stepping in. "Where is he now? I want to meet him. Is G okay with this? Is your mom?"