by Sean Clark
“Describe the feeling for me… this feeling of it being… too real.”
“I don’t know how to describe it. Once upon a time, this was my home. I was just living a normal life. Then I left the civilian world. I joined the Navy. I fit in there. I knew what I was doing, and everything else didn’t matter. Then another opportunity came my way. Mars, another planet. I took the step. I was put in classes for months. Training, exercises, tests. It all seems like a blur now. I know I enjoyed every second of it though. It was what I was good at. When I finally arrived on the planet, it was my own personal paradise where I was able to tinker, create. It was nothing like Earth, full of distractions.”
“Then you had your accident.”
Cecil stops cold. His hands rests on his face, wrists supporting his chin. The rough skin of his face is a reminder. “It put a stop to everything. I didn't think I would be able to recover from something like it. Then I was delivered a message, from a source millions of miles away. The news it brought refreshed my perspective, but not in a way I could have wished for. It reminded me that time still was passing here on Earth, and that I was up there doing a lot of nothing. It was as if the worlds had collided with one another.”
“Everything is relative, Cecil. It was no mistake that your brain convinced itself that Mars was its own little bubble that existed separately from your existence on Earth.”
“You’re right about that… Earth and Mars were separate realities to me.” Cecil swallows hard. “It's like they’re on different planes of existence. You understand now why coming back here is like looking into a dream.”
“It’s like an uncanny valley.” Griogair points out. “It seems so incredibly real to a point that it seems fake, and that’s why it’s unnerving.”
“If that’s right, then what can I do to deal with it?” Cecil asks.
“I’ve experienced a similar reaction in astronauts before, though not to your extent. It’s like culture shock… you just have to readapt. You have to face your fears. I’m sure you’re aware… fear triggers an adrenaline rush… the fight or flight reaction. What will you do?”
Cecil shifts uncomfortably before finally making eye contact with the doctor. The round man looks down at Cecil from his round spectacles, tauntingly. “That isn’t funny.” Cecil sneers.
Griogair laughs a heavy chuckle, and then returns to his chair with a creak. “I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t offend you. In my opinion, though… you may have a mild form of dissociative disorder. To be honest, I feel as if it could have been triggered by the cryonics you’ve undergone more than anything else.”
“What do you mean by that?” Cecil asks, arms folded in front of him.
“Well, I don’t want to instill any weird ideas in your head, so take this with a grain of salt. In my field, we don’t have much knowledge of the effects of cryonic hibernation… specifically, what it does to the brain of the subject. They say it’s safe, but who knows? In your case, you go under on one planet, and awake millions of miles away, like nothing had happened in between. Like you said, it creates a feeling of two distinct realities.”
“I don’t like it any more than you.” Cecil says, shaking his head. “It’s a shock, in no other way you can experience. Being frozen, waking up, there’s no preparing yourself for the sensation. The first time I went into cryo, it freaked me out. I was in a big tube, like a science experiment. Then it got cold, fast.” Cecil holds his arms as if he feels the cold engulfing him.
“I would love if you would be able fill me in. I’m not too familiar with the process after all. How did you get to that point?”
Chapter 3
“Cryogenic hibernation is still pretty much in its infancy. I mean it’s harmless, if you’re asking only those people who have simply written about it in their scientific journals. Subjects get frozen, transported, and then show up somewhere else, being ready to work after only a short period of rehabilitation. The first people to go to Mars went in the traditional way… awake for the whole journey. Six long months, having contact only with the other crew members and the people of mission control for the entire trip. Foil packets of freeze-dried to keep you company.
A method like that is straightforward, but boring- both for the missions control and for the passengers. It uses up too many resources to, which have to occupy space on the ship. However, if the crew members don’t have to eat or drink, use the bathroom, and they only breathe a very tiny bit of oxygen, you can have more people and less supplies for each of them. When you’re trying to launch a craft off a planet like Earth, the lighter and more efficiently supplied the load the better. I mean, our space launching technology hasn’t improved much since the 20’s. The escape velocity of Earth isn’t getting any lower, either.
So, how do you get humans to stop having human needs? The answer is to freeze them. Of course, it isn’t that simple. It’s like hibernation, but even deeper. There are a few animal species in nature that can survive it alone. Some frog somewhere in Africa, if I remember right. You slow down your metabolism so much that you can survive on very very little.
Cryopreservation had been used in medical fields for a long time to keep organs ‘fresh,’ to keep them from breaking down over time. However, doing it to a whole live human being was illegal, at least in a very fuzzy sense. I mean, in most cases the person wouldn’t have survived it. It was only done to people, well, bodies, that were considered clinically dead. Back in those days, even the best practices would end up with a body horribly mutilated on the microscopic scale. Tiny ice crystals from the body’s water supply would wreak havoc on the cells and organs.
Even more, we didn’t understand how the brain reacts under such circumstances. The brain needs pumping blood… oxygen to survive. If you come out brain damaged and can’t operate, you’re no good, especially on an alien planet where every person needs to contribute.
Eventually they found a remedy to both of those problems… a substance that wouldn't freeze and tear up your insides with razor sharp ice crystals, while still proving oxygen to the brain. The answer was tiny oxygen carrying nanites that would be pumped through your veins in a sort of dialysis. They were quite simple, actually. Oxygen freezes at a lower point than one’s body needs to be at for cryonics. It keeps the body just oxygenated enough to keep the brain healthy, as well. At least in theory and lab rat tests of course.
At some point, they wanted a real prolonged test. They needed one. With a human. If they couldn’t get a system working, they wouldn’t be able to get people to the red planet in an efficient matter. Someone had to volunteer for a procedure that wasn’t proven entirely safe. If I recall correctly, they left him in there for a month. Every day, they checked his heart rate, his brain function, and the temperature of his blood… well, what was left of it. I can’t remember exactly how it went, but he woke up relatively fine.
I think that was a couple of years before I had even heard of it. However, I saw the news. It was a space race again, just like in the late 20th century. Who could mass produce cryopods and ships fastest to get to the planet, and who could fabricate the necessary tools and machinery to allow them to not only live up there, but thrive? They wanted to make the planet livable.
I was in the navy working engine rooms at the time, when I saw news of the Mars Development Project. I was good at my job then, I guess. That’s what everyone told me. I was strong too. Maintaining an engine room is no easy task. Engine blocks, drive shafts the size of tractor trailers, gears and bolts the size of my head or arm.
My higher ups definitely knew my name. I knew so… they came and asked me if I knew about the program. I feigned ignorance. I was intimidated by it. They told me that I was too good for what I was doing. They said an engineer like me could do good up there. I knew they were right, but I was scared. Well, I went anyways.
The first test was them putting a blueprint in front of my face and asking me what was wrong with it. I immediately turned over the paper and designed it again from the bottom
up. After that, it was a blur. I guess I passed their test.
I didn’t want to leave the Earth just yet, I felt. However, I remember talking to my mother on the phone, who insisted I go. She wasn’t in the best health, but she was in her right mind, as always. It’s almost as if she heard the excitement in my voice. So, into the training program I went.
The astronaut training was a breeze, and even the briefing for the freezing process made it seem painless. Then the time came. We were going to be put on the ship like human luggage, pre-frozen, with only a couple of guys awake to monitor things. Thinking about it, if something were to go wrong with the systems on the ship, those guys wouldn’t have been able to do much.
Brain monitors, heart monitors, a catheter, and last but not least, the dialysis machine. I think it was actually more like hemodiafiltration, but let’s not split hairs. It isn’t pleasant in the least. You can feel the cold flowing into your body. That’s just the nanites, though. Eventually you get sedated. However, just as you’re about to lose consciousness, it becomes cold. Very cold. Then, all of a sudden, you’re awake, millions of miles away.
Defrosting is excruciating. You can’t move a muscle. While the freezing process happens in a blink of an eye, coming out is a slow process. You wake up about half way through, after your heart starts beating at a normal rate. If you woke up sooner, you could literally become fractured into pieces, like that. Perhaps they only told us that to scare us. When you can move, you’re completely stiff and weak, but otherwise you feel mentally invigorated, due to the abundance of oxygen in your brain.
I was on Mars, a completely different world, just like that. Your muscles may have atrophied slightly in the freezer, but you wouldn’t have noticed. The gravity is one third the strength of Earth. But then you realize that your inner ear is thrown off, your stomach just won’t settle, and you eventually get light headed from the awkward way the gravity effects your blood flow. You get used to it, especially with the help of the drugs they give us, but eventually there’s nothing you can do but just get used to the feeling.”
Chapter 4
“So… you return home, and then what?” The doctor is now sitting on the lounge himself, intently listening to Cecil’s story.
“That’s the funny part. Many people don’t get the chance to return home. I think they know a return trip isn’t healthy. The low gravity wrecks your muscles, pulls calcium out of your bones, and makes your heart muscles pump less efficiently. Not to mention the withdrawal from the drugs. Combine that with the effects of going through cryo again, and well… I’m living proof of the crap it does.”
“So, should I say you were fortunate or unfortunate for being able to come back?” Griogair says, stroking his beard.
“Good question. I think the real reason that they don’t send people back is because it’s too expensive for them.” Cecil sneers. “Ships get sent back and forth pretty regularly, but launching a ship from Mars back to Earth is more intensive. Mostly they’re unmanned, which reduces the cost and danger. I wasn’t supposed to be sent back, but the medical staff there were adamant that they couldn’t do anything for my condition there. I don’t think they wanted to have my death on their hands.”
“I see. Let me change the subject a bit. How did you sleep there, on Mars?” The doctor asks, picking at his fingernails.
“I slept because I had to. The work there was exhausting, regardless of the gravity. I loved every minute of it, but I also loved crawling into my bunk every night. You know the day is almost just as long as a day here?”
“I’ve heard so. About forty minutes longer, right? So, about every thirty days on Mars, you end up one more days behind on Earth.”
Cecil looks up at the dark ceiling, squinting his eyes while he ponders the math. “Yeah, you’re about right. I might have noticed it at some point. It can’t believe it would make any real difference.”
“Like I said, there isn’t enough knowledge on the subject, so I can’t really make a call. For that reason, it’s tough for me to do anything for you directly. Cecil, I know you’re not here by choice. To be honest, I can’t speak to the efficacy of mandated sessions like these… patients can put up a barrier and refuse to cooperate, whether they’re completely aware of it or not.” Griogair sits up from his laid-back posture, and plants himself before Cecil. His eyes studied him, up close. “Nonetheless, the agency wants you here; they want their brilliant engineer back in good mind.”
“Maybe, but only so they can use me.” Cecil glares up at him.
“Yes, maybe so. Perhaps that’s why they’re providing for your treatment and living expenses for the time being… because it’s an investment for them.” The doctor clears his throat, and takes a few steps back, finally turning around to avoid Cecil’s gaze. Grasping his hands behind his back, he continues on. “When you showed up, the only thing you wanted to talk about was your mother. I eventually got more out of you, but it was an uphill battle. Today, I’m glad you finally opened up. Still, I’m not sure about you.”
“You think I’m still holding back something? Or you think that there’s something deeper that you can’t squash on your own?” Cecil grits his teeth. “Why don’t you just drug me up like they did? You have that big prescription pad, so you can make sure people leave here doped up and happy.”
“In the end, the problem isn’t with you, it’s with me. Rather, the situation. I’ve never dealt with a case like yours. Some people who come in simply have an issue with their brain chemistry. They’re lacking enough production of one chemical or another. I don’t think that’s the case with you.” Griogiar paces over to the bookshelf and starts absentmindedly admiring the text on the intricate spines.
“Obviously, there are some things that aren’t right with you. That scar on your forehead is a remnant of one of those things. I think there is something else. There is something else that I can’t dig into… I simply don’t have the expertise. This whole ordeal… the accident, the coma, being frozen multiple times, being exposed to living on that planet… Those are circumstances that lead to issues I can’t begin to consider.” Griogiar peers back over his shoulder, and makes a quick turn to face Cecil. He takes a series of quick, waddling steps to Cecil’s chair and points his meaty finger at his forehead.
“Somewhere in there, there’s something we’re missing. Wires are crossed, or disconnected.”
Cecil swats the doctor’s his finger away. “Are you saying I’m brain damaged?”
“No, no. Not at all. The brain is a complex organ, one that we still don’t fully understand. There’s obviously more than meets the eye with your situation. I want to get you help. I can direct you to someone else who has a whole different field of experience.” The doctor waddles back behind his desk, where he begins writing furiously on his notepad. “My colleague… he deals specifically with sleep disorders. Despite the medications I have given you, you said you can’t properly get to sleep, and during the day you can’t focus. This man can look deeper into your brain that I ever could here.”
“I don’t think they’ll condone that.” Cecil protests.
“Don’t worry about that. They don’t have to know. I’ll sign off saying that you will have come next week while you’re there. As for the costs… well, when he hears about you, I’m sure he’ll be elated to take your case.” A rip sounds through the air, very subtly, as Griogair pulls off the top sheet from his notepad. Cecil stands up, accepting the paper from the doctor’s outstretched hand. Looking down on it, he takes in the information and shoves the paper in his pocket. Griogiar looks back at the clock that had been silently ticking away during the session. “Again, I appreciate you opening up to me today, Cecil. I really do. Now, unless you have anything else you want to discuss, I can let you go. Your friend drove you again today, did he not?”
Cecil nods. Griogair goes to the door and opens it a crack. The bright light filters into Cecil’s eyes and he squints to see better. The doctor pushes him out of the door lightly. Alika lo
oks up from his magazine, and slowly folds it so as to put it aside.
Chapter 5
“Let’s go get lunch, okay?” Alika looks over at Cecil, who is buckling himself into the seat, holding back a response. The car hums to life as Alika turns the key.
The ride is silent, save the jostling of the car on the bumpy road. Cecil stares out the window as they pass by the optometrist they had been the day before. Cecil can make out the name of the business and the decorative neon sign in the shape of glasses. A few blocks down, Alika turns into an equally plain looking shopping center. A parking spot sits conveniently open at the front of building. The windows of the shop reveal booths full of people inside, happily scarfing down food. Cecil turns to Alika who is undoing his buckle. Noticing Cecil’s gaze, he looks up and smiles.
The bell chimes as the door swings open, pushed by Alika. Gazes immediately shoot up from people sitting at tables by the door. Cecil ducks behind Alika, pushing his hair to the side, letting his bangs fall down in his face. “Just two?” Chimes the hostess, who quickly jumps out from behind the corner.
Alika nods, and starts to follow the girl who had already gathered up two menus and two bundles of silverware. Cecil follows closely after, until they arrive at a booth against the side wall.
Sliding into the squeaky vinyl seat, Cecil takes a place opposite Alika, looking back and forth between the menu and his friend. Alika had already fixated on the appetizer section. “I thought we would try this place today. It looks nice, doesn’t it?” Alika looks up. Cecil quickly averts his gaze, looking back down at the menu.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how it went in there?” Cecil speaks up, still avoiding eye contact.