A Prayer From the outer rim
She loved me once, but can love endure?
Her name is Cassie, after the constellation, Cassiopeia. She never liked that name, but I saw its beauty. It suited her. She was not that boastful queen of mythology, but the queen of the very stars in the sky and the true love of my life.
We met by chance on a layover at orbital station E-34. She was a propulsion engineer; I was environmental. Exchanging complaints about our overdue shuttle, we talked. We were both on our way to Mars planetary assignments. Once aboard our flight, we spent the hours lost in each other’s company, talking and laughing, telling our stories, all the while, the beautiful blue globe of our home absently drifting away behind us.
Our time on Mars felt like a dream; we were like children at play. Every moment not engaged in work, we spent together. And it was there in the open air of the Martian plains that her kiss and warm embrace revealed her love to be as great as mine was for her.
In the shadow of Phobos, we shared our thoughts, and our awe of the many worlds. We playfully argued about our likes and differences, and of course about the technologies that inspired us. We had our biases. She claimed that our greatest achievement was the ion drives that power our ships. For me, it was the undersea colonies on the moons of Jupiter and Saturn. Of course, our minds skewed toward our own expertise. But where we both agreed was the perfection of cryogenics. Without the technology to put us into stasis for extended periods, we would never have been able to overcome the myriad problems of long space voyages, nor would our goals of terraforming other worlds be possible.
It was this last subject that had our most recent attention. For we would both be going into the deep freeze.
Permanent positions had become available in the Outer Rim, a new world discovered, prime for re-imagining. We were both accepted and ready for what would be the work of our lives.
It is a remarkable experience, this artificial sleep. How it erases the space between points in time, like sleep erases the night. I had felt the deep freeze before and felt little trepidation about going under again. For me, the ten-year jump to the Outer Rim would be shared with my love, side by side, and together we would arrive no different in age or appearance than at our departure. When we awake above our virgin world, we will be ready to begin our new life together.
She was nervous on launch-date. Everyone was, I suppose. I did my best to reassure her. The entire crew and engineering team would be fast asleep before the engines fired and sent us hurdling from low Martian orbit into the vast sea of space. In a few minutes, we would all be quietly bound in dreamless slumber.
Leaning backward in my tube, I smiled at Cassie. We’d arranged spaces across from each other. I wanted her face to be the first thing I’d see when I woke up. I shuddered momentarily in the cool cryo-tube. Cassie returned a nervous smile as I watched goosebumps rise across her pale skin. Technicians placed IVs into our necks and thighs. These would circulate the cryoplast fluids, which keep our blood from freezing and which supply the nutrients necessary to sustain us while we sleep. I winked at her one last time as the transparent lids came down and sealed the tubes. I watched as her open eyes went blank with the coming of our artificial hibernation.
I too felt the paralyzing effect on my limbs, at first relaxing, then numbing, then complete disembodiment. I watched as the Technicians made their final system checks. Their mumbled voices through the cryo-tube’s shell faded as they left to exit the ship. Lights in the chamber dimmed until only the other tubes gave any illumination. I realized then that something had gone terribly wrong. The fluids pumping through me had paralyzed my body, but they had failed to put me to sleep.
As I lie here now, the panic has almost subsided. For a long time, it seemed, my mind screamed silently at the deaf and the invisible, though I knew all along that there was no savior. My mind floats incorporeal, aware of everything, but unable to interact with the world around. I remember the long blast of the engines, hearing the enormous rattle howling through the hull. And then the absolute, deafening silence of the long void ahead. Now, the horror comes and goes in unexpected waves.
I do not sleep. I do not dream. I experience no sensation - only a long, terrible stream of consciousness. The only reality of my existence stands across from me. Two meters away and completely out of reach. The glow of Cassie’s cryo-tube. Within that faint blue radiance, I see her face. Eyes open, she stares at me, moment after moment, as what must be passing days become weeks folding into meaningless months. But there is no comfort there. There is no sign of an active mind behind those eyes, only the ghosts of hopes and dreams once clung to. And I cannot turn away. I cannot force my eyelids shut. I cannot escape the barren gaze. I stand imprisoned before it, wide awake, thinking, thinking, thinking. I can feel the madness taking hold.
Then I realized, just as my sanity seemed to tease itself away. What if she, too, was trapped in this awful cage? What if behind those blank eyes her mind shares in my torment? What if the singular, everlasting vision of my face taunts her with the same horrific monotony as hers tortures me? How terrible that the thought of our shared suffering is the only sense of connection that I can feel.
It is a ten-year trip to the Outer Rim. Can we survive in this disembodied state for that long? Is there some limit to what the human mind can withstand? God help us…God please have mercy…what a horrible creature you must be to abandon us so…
And if we survive, will we be the same? Is it already too late? Will we ever be able to look upon each other’s face without knowing the torture of it? Without feeling the weight of mindless examination? Will she forgive my revulsion at her sight, and can I overcome my fear and hatred of her mocking stare? Her soulless eyes reflecting the cold infinity of lifeless space.
I pray when we arrive at the Outer Rim, that the same two people will emerge. That there is hope for some freedom of release and redemption. That our minds are not completely mad and that we might still be capable of feeling the emotions that made us human.
Yes, she loved me once, but can love endure?
