Authors: C. De Melo
“That would be great, thanks.”
***
I
slept for the better part of the next two days. Anne had come to visit once and the counseling session had been informative, but far from comforting. As my memories returned, I recalled the series of events that eventually led to my cryogenic encapsulation.
It all started before I was born, when
the New York World Trade Center had been destroyed on September 11, 2001 by terrorists flying two commercial aircrafts into the Twin Towers. At least that’s what we were taught as children in history class. My parents raised me in Washington D.C. during the Age of Terror. Sadly, our country was engaged in a drawn-out war in the Middle East that spanned the entirety of my childhood and teenage years. In school we learned that the cause of the war was to combat terrorism. On the Internet I learned that the U.S. was fighting over crude oil and profitable military contracts. Environmentalists and intellectual progressives were constantly preaching against the use of damaging finite fossil fuels, and thus exposing the U.S. military’s shameless liaison with corrupt Wall Street banks and mega corporations (like Big Oil). So much carnage was being committee in the name of profit.
Blood money
.
Around the world
the U.S. was being referred to as
The Beast
. And the common opinion was that The Beast had to be stopped; brought down to its knees. Destroy the U.S., save lives, save the planet became the motto of extremists everywhere. The terrorist attacks came in various forms. Even our allies were targeted. The most vicious of the attacks were committed by Americans rebelling against their own government, like computer hackers who wreaked havoc by breaching top security systems and leaking information to the general public. There was speculation that the U.S. government had sanctioned many of the heinous attacks upon its own people in order to have just cause to implement strict military control. These rumors only served to stir contention and incite even more rebellion. As science advanced, the attacks became more sophisticated.
Enter
bio-chemical infiltration. Doctors and scientists tried diligently to keep up with every new virus or chemical attack with vaccines and antibiotics. For the most part, they managed to keep the constantly changing epidemics somewhat under control with a minimal loss of human life.
Until
the
Pod
came along.
The Pod v
irus was created by a genius virologist working for an underground terrorist cell. His vile creation became an epidemic shortly after being released into the water supplies of every major American city. The virus itself was fragile, but thanks to cutting-edge technology, a virtually impenetrable ‘pod’ had been created for its protection. Contracting the virus usually led to death. Scientists labored day and night by command of the U.S. government to try and find a way to destroy the pod in order to kill the virus, but not before it inflicted unimaginable damage. Oddly, it only affected women. The few women who were lucky to survive became sterile. Nearly half of the female population in the U.S. died, and the survivors would never conceive. It was a brilliant way to destroy a mass populace.
I was relieved to learn from Anne
that the U.S. had indeed been brought to its knees, and a new government was formed with the direction of those who had initially incited the rebellion. Fossil fuels were now a thing of the past; currently outlawed in all states. This federal law ended the wars in the Middle East. Thanks to an energy research lab known as ALTSYS, (short for Alternate Systems) natural energy had been mass marketed. Everything in the U.S. now ran on three types of clean energy: hydraulic, wind and solar. By making the patent for these energy systems accessible, many other countries followed suit.
Not all governments accepted these new alternate systems, but
the U.S. was pushing it on them for the sake of the environment. Banks and corporations no longer ‘owned’ politicians and there were new rules against certain lobbyists. Campaign budgets had rigid caps, which allowed viable candidates of lesser means to run for presidency. Thanks to positive changes like these, the U.S. was elevated to the status of
Exemplary Nation
for its drastic social and political changes.
Anne told me
I had contracted the virus shortly before its eradication. The science of cryogenics was in its infantile stage and virtually unheard of when Michael had made arrangements on my behalf. It had taken nineteen years for scientists to figure out how to successfully bring a human out of frozen suspended animation.
As I listened
to my cryo-counselor speak, it seemed as if she was talking about someone else- someone who starred in a sci-fi movie.
“Are you okay
, Mrs. Adams?” she asked suddenly.
I felt my eyes widen. “Yes, why do you ask
?”
Anne’s brow creased in concern. “You look
pale.”
“
Just taking it all in.”
“
Perhaps you are overwhelmed. Shall I come back later?” she offered, already shifting her weight to the edge of the chair.
“No, please don’t go. Forgive me. This isn’t easy,” I confessed.
She smiled and leaned back. “I know.”
“I have a question about my rehabilitation
.”
“
Shall I call your physician?”
“Only if you can’t answer me.” When she nodded, I continued, “How are they going to repair my muscles?”
“Well, I can’t go into specifics since I’m not trained in that field, but this sort of thing is easily fixed with advanced nanotechnology. Many famous athletes get nano-shots nowadays.”
I shook my head, lost. “What’s a nano-shot?”
“Oh, when they tear a shoulder or sustain a serious knee injury they go to a rehab hospital- like this one- for a special injection containing reparative fluid. The damaged cells regenerate quickly, allowing the body to heal in a matter of days.”
“Incredible,” I heard myself mutter.
“Your physician will explain it to you in detail.” She looked at the digital clock on the wall and added, “Time for me to go.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks.”
Anne leaned forward and concluded the session with a reassuring squeeze to my hand before leaving the room. My thoughts ran rampant as I stared out the window. They were soon halted by a knock at the door.
It was Michael.
“Hello, princess. How did your session go?”
“Anne
told me about the Pod virus. She also told me a little about advanced nanotechnology and how it will repair my muscles.”
“It went well, then?”
“Yes.”
He
sat down in the chair and crossed his legs in one fluid motion. “She’s the best cryo-counselor in the country. I had her flown in from Boston for you. She’s originally from the Virgin Islands.”
“Thank you.”
He looked down at his folded hands for a moment before speaking. “I hope you understand why I made this decision.”
“Mi
chael, I don’t remember the specific details of what happened to me,” I confessed. “My memories are fuzzy.”
His mouth formed a grim line
. “We were out having lunch on a gorgeous autumn day when you collapsed. Unbeknownst to either of us, you had contracted the Pod and became extremely ill almost immediately afterward. You had woken up earlier that morning with dark circles and complained of being tired, but you insisted you felt well enough to go out. With each passing hour your health deteriorated. I’ve never seen anything like it- I was terrified.” He paused. “I rushed you to the hospital. The doctors said there was a good chance you would die in a matter of hours…I needed to make a decision fast. I couldn’t bear losing you so soon after having found you. Cryogenics wasn’t perfected yet, but it was better than certain death, so I took the chance.”
There was a moment of silence before I said,
“I owe you my life, Michael.”
He shook his head and gave me a wry smile. “You’re
as lovely as the day I married you; so young and vibrant. And look at me,” he said, glancing down at himself. “I’m now an old man. I’ll turn sixty this winter. When we first got together, I never thought the decade between us was significant. Now I have to contend with almost three decades.”
I
took in his grey hair, the prominent wrinkles around his mouth, and the wizened look in his eyes. Michael had been in great shape when we first met, and he was obviously still athletic. His shoulders were broad and his posture was excellent, but the years of playing golf in the sun had done its damage.
As if sensing my
thoughts, Michael said gently, “Zoë, I don’t expect things to be as they were before.” He paused, frowning slightly. “What I mean to say is…you have almost twenty years of catching-up to do and that’s going to take some time. Just know that I have your best interests at heart.”
Upon hearing his words, a
small sigh of relief filled my chest. “Thank you, Michael.”
“You bet,” he said, leaning forward to kiss my forehead. “Rest now.”
After he left, I stared at the ceiling and recalled my past life. Michael and I had met at the trendy Ashton Gallery where I worked as a public relations and marketing strategist. I had gotten the job thanks to a friend after completing a Master of Arts in Liberal Studies. My Bachelor in Business Administration had also come in handy. I had been working at the gallery for almost two years when Michael came in looking for a painting to adorn the wall of his recently redecorated home office.
I knew who
Michael Adams was the moment he walked in, of course. He was the handsome, incredibly rich, unmarried socialite heavily involved in the D.C. political scene. It wasn’t uncommon to see photographs of Michael in the newspaper standing beside the president and other high profile politicians. I helped him for over an hour at the gallery, and as I wrote up the bill of sales for a sixty thousand dollar painting, he asked me out to dinner. What single woman could refuse?
We hit it off
during a fantastic meal of fresh seafood and fine wine, and the rest was history. We were married six months later after a whirlwind romance that included several long weekends in Paris, Greece, and Tuscany. I had never imagined that my wedding would grace the covers of socialite magazines across the nation, but it did. Coming from a middle-class family, this made me a bit uncomfortable. I eventually grew accustomed to the attention, however, and quickly learned how to avoid the paparazzi.
I think what attracted me
the most about Michael was his sense of humor and innate sweetness. There wasn’t a shred of pretentiousness or snobbery in him, either, which won the respect of my family and friends. Michael Adams was a man to be respected, admired and yes, envied. As his wife, I was also envied by countless women. After all, he treated me like a princess and everyone knew it. I was lucky then, and I am lucky now. Were it not for my husband’s money, power and influence, I would be dead.
***
Maddy and my mother came as often as they could throughout my rehabilitation, which lasted several weeks. As advanced as nanotechnology was every single one of my atrophied muscles had to be repaired. This meant a series of nano-shots throughout various regions of my body.
As I healed
I learned about the many changes that had taken place
since I last walked the Earth
(I had adopted this dramatic phrase after reading an article about another cryo-person who had awoken successfully several months before me). Maddy, Michael and my mother spoke of people, politics, and world events whenever they came to see me. They also told me of new inventions and technological breakthroughs.
For example, paper money was
a thing of the past. It was no longer being printed or circulated because everyone now used credit cards. Only the eccentric and the very old still carried actual bills or coins. Since no establishment in the U.S. accepted money, carrying it was considered to be quaint and charming, like toting an old pocket-watch.
There were big changes in the world sc
ene, too, such as the unification of the Middle East with Northern Africa, which was now known as the UAN (Unified Arab Nation). The remainder of Africa had rallied together to form the Sub-Saharan States, commonly referred to as The South. The EU still existed, only now it incorporated the entire European land mass west of Russia.
Other changes
were not as grand, but still impressive. HVs (Holographic-Vision Sets) replaced TVs fifteen years ago. The pricey, ultra-modern flat screen televisions I remembered were things of the past. Like most appliances, HVs were voice activated. Newer homes had an HV chamber, which was a circular black room with surround sound and comfortable seating. People would actually be a part of the movie or show they were watching.
When I felt
well enough to be transferred to a normal room with an HV, I was naturally very curious and excited to try it out. There were no HV chambers in the hospital, but the 3-D effect would be enjoyable nonetheless. Michael was sitting beside me and obviously amused at my childlike excitement.