Time Capsule

Time Capsule: Chapter 1

"Stimulant?" Dr. Krupshaw asked,politely offering me the small white box. The word Cardiff was emblazoned on the front in pink cursive; an expensive brand.

"No, but thank you," I said, dismissing his offer with the wave of my hand. I needed a clear head for this conversation.

"Suit yourself." He squeezed the sides of the box and the spring mechanism delivered a small pinch of pink powder to the top. He bowed his head slightly and snorted the powder with one nostril. It was a practiced movement, as smooth and casual as lighting a cigarette. He rubbed his nose once and the stimulant box vanished into his pants pocket. Dr. Krupshaw was a thin, pale man, in a tailored suit, with slick blonde hair combed straight back. He carried himself with the precision neatness of the professionally rich and the consummate salesman. He was the Manhattan branch manager of the Sleep Company and right now we were in his office, forty floors up.

"Did you know that cryogenics was first created to freeze plants?" Dr. Krupshaw leaned casually against his polished cherry desk with his back to the window. Behind him I could see the New York City skyline, wreathed in an early morning smog; tranquil and toxic.

"No, it's true," Dr. Krupshaw chuckled, interpreting my silence for disbelief. "The man who invented it, I forget his name, was some sort of botanist. Apparently he was looking for a way to freeze a flower in full bloom and then to revive it again, undamaged." He smiled pityingly. "And it worked. He thought he was going to change the agricultural industry but instead he changed the world." Dr. Krupshaw smoothed his tie and continued. "Of course the right corporate minds saw what the technology actually was, or what it could be, and they bought everything. Paid the scientist handsomely. And that's how the Sleep Company was founded. You can now freeze a human in mid thought." He snapped his fingers. "And revive them at leisure,completely unharmed. It became a trillion dollar industry overnight and it's revolutionized the way we think about time."

"It's made us into monsters," I said, fidgeting with my hands restlessly.

"How so?" Dr. Krupshaw asked, unperturbed.

"It's created a society where only the poor have to die." For some reason I couldn't look at him.

"We live in the modern age, Mr.Ryan. Science and technology are tools that make our lives better. A tool is neither good, nor evil; it exists to serve. Cryogenics is no different. You must see that. Long term investment speculators now make investments, freeze themselves and wake ten or twenty years later, richer than their wildest dreams. Families freeze their loved ones who lay dying, afflicted by horrible diseases, and revive them when a cure has been developed. What I'm selling is hope, Mr. Ryan. It's a chance for a better life. Does that make me a monster?"

While he spoke, I let my eyes wander around the office. It was the picture of corporate luxury. Dark cherry wood panels covered the walls and deep inset book cases held rows of gold embossed books. Large, black and white photographs hung at measured intervals, depicting idyllic landscapes. One picture was of a small weathered rowboat, abandoned on some lonely white beach. An enormous sepia globe sat waist-height in the corner of the room. The desk on which Dr. Krupshaw was leaning was a monolith, a darkly polished island of hand carved scrollwork. It was all so decadent and surgically clean. Everything had been carefully chosen to project the Sleep Company image.

"Maybe it does," I answered finally.

"This is a very expensive procedure,Mr. Ryan," said Dr. Krupshaw. "Take the money and help the poor if it will ease your conscience. No one is forcing you to do this." I didn't answer. I must be an odd customer for Dr. Krupshaw. The people who usually made it this far; the ones who'd paid the deposit in order to sit in this seat, didn't need to be convinced. The product sold itself. Cryogenics had made corporations into empires and businessmen into kings. What they were selling was a golden ticket. It was an escape. The people who'd sat in this consultation chair before me were probably all frozen. The choice was obvious. So why was I dragging my feet?