The uncomfortable hiss made by the closing of the coffin-like hypersleep tube focuses me. The tube is beginning the sealing operation, an operation that will put me in stasis. Outside the tube’s cold confines, beyond its claustrophobia, one will find the curved inner hull that constitutes a portion of the “Starcraft Bright Star,” which glides effortlessly through the Etherless void of space like so much wayward, but determined, sperm and, carrying the simile forward, carries the hopes and dreams of me and my crew through the womb we call “the Universe.”
Next to me on the chamber’s control panel, a dull light turns green: seal successful, freezing process cycling up, and, then?…the eventuality of the Sleep. The tendrils of viscous Permafreeze tingle over my nude body as the cold runs down deep, as if touching my very soul. Far away from me and on the starcraft’s command deck, my digital Doppelganger is on watch with a steady patience that knows no concept of Time.
My body grows cold. On the transparent metal surface of the tube, the first of what will be many lines of frost begin their fractal crawl. My exhale clouds in front of me and all I can think of is her.
Maureen.
The powder-like distant stars of the galaxy as seen from here are no match for her beauty. Or, her love, which sadly, found a home with Doctor R. so long ago when I thought love was unbounded by space or time when the Jupiter 1 cruised the Kuiper a Belt. Before the freezing process fully takes me into the Dreamland that is suspended animation, I hold onto one thought:
Then, tunnel vision and darkness, and a vision of her in that silver space suit and flowing blond hair, and all the while I stand cold and naked at the edge of forever.
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