Ranting Cassandra

July 4, 2043 – USSS Étoile du Nord launches

Earth: June 4, 2744 · Years in flight: 560 · Days awake: 336

Underwater. Cold. Running out of air! DON'T PANIC!! Don't panic! You can make it. Almost there.

His lungs tore open on a ragged gasp.

"Easy, TJ. You're back in the land of the living." The soothing voice of Meera Iyer. "Good to see you," she said after letting him take several gulping breaths.

"I hate it, Sarge! I think I would just rather stay awake," TJ replied, still breathing hard.

"I know. But you can't. Up and at 'em, TJ. We got stuff to do."

"What's the latest? Any news on the conflict?" he asked.

"Nobody's been back to check. You're the first I've decanted. Successfully." Meera trailed off.

"Who?"

Days awake: 342

Alexander Lebedev was the twelfth of their crew to succumb to Cumulative Stasis Syndrome, or CSS. There was always a risk with stasis. But they were coming to find out the hard way that the risk increased with each "nap." They lost Lars Halvorson on September 17, 2243, 160 years in flight, 76 days awake. At least, that is when they knew they had lost him. Who knew when he actually experienced "freezer burn"?

TJ stood slumped between the shower and the washer-dryer in the "laundromat," his forehead resting against the dryer as it rocked him gently. In his hand, up near his chin, was a worn map of Minnesota, folded into a narrow strip, the top of it pressed between his forehead and the machine. On one side, the names of the lost crew members, his friends.

76, Lars Halvorson - Hal, "I'm sorry, Dave. I'm afraid I can't do that."
166, Amara Okonkwo, Sofia Marchetti, aka Chef
186, Kenny
221, Tommy Boy - "Straight on till morning, my friend."
241, Prof, Nova, Relay, Whizzer, Mazzy - Bad, bad day
276, Siobhan "Shiver" Kelly
336, Alex
337, Alex

It had taken him five days to gather the strength to write that last name.

On the side facing him, the city of Alexandria inside a red heart caught his tears.

The door opened and a surprised Breven looked at him. "Oh...sorry. I thought Meera said you were in the info center."

"I was. You need the shower?" It was both question and statement. Breven Oskarson, the mechanical engineer, had gotten the unfortunate nickname of "BO" on account of his initials, his love for spicy food, and his propensity to sweat. Like all good nicknames, he hated it at first, but then it grew on him.

"What's that?" BO asked about the map.

"Nuthin'." TJ pushed past him.

Days awake: 344, supper

The sound of cutlery on tin trays, and chewing. They could all do the math. If they kept losing crew, they would not make it home. Finally Yusuf Demir, the flight surgeon, spoke up. "The latest download confirms it. Decanting is what kills us. If we minimize the times we have to wake, we reduce the chances..."

"Of freezer burn." BO smacked the table with his tray, then clutched it like a blanket.

Their navigator, "Roofie," chimed in. "We have been less than a kilometer off at each of our stops, sometimes a lot less. Once we were within ten meters. I think we can make it."

"No," the Mission Commander said. "We have talked this through every waking since we turned back for home. Even if we stay pointed in the right direction, there are critical things that must be maintained. Who is going to it?" Silence.

"Was that a map?" BO asked TJ, who was more withdrawn than usual. Every eye at the table turned to him as he looked up.

"I said it was nothing."

"Come on, that's bullshit, man. All that we been through? There ain't no room for secrets on this tub. It was a map, with a heart around a city. What's it mean? Is it where you're from?" pressed BO.

There was a long pause before TJ replied. "It was where my wife was. She has...had glioblastoma. I spent my signing money putting her on ice. Figured by the time I got back, they'd have a cure. The conflict spread. Some asshole used a pocket nuke to..." He started to stammer. "...take out Alex." He flipped the map onto the table for all to see. Stapled below the heart was a business card.

LAZARUS BIOSTASIS - Alexandria, MN

"I'm so sorry, TJ. I didn't even know you were married. What was her name?" Meera asked, extending a hand to comfort him.

"Same as the town," TJ said. He stood and walked out.

Days awake: 355

"Skipper?" TJ needed to talk to Ruth Abernathy, the Mission Commander. She acknowledged him with a raised eyebrow. "I'll do it. I'll be the one who wakes at each stop. If I need help, I will wake the person I need. If I don't, I won't."

"TJ, my decision..."

"Your decision is wrong! Ma'am. I came on this trip to save someone I loved." He blinked away a tear and straightened up. "Let me complete that mission. I have already reprogrammed the waking routine so that if my decanting fails, it will go to Meera, then you, then a random."

Ruth Abernathy sized TJ up for quite a while, then gave a brief nod.

Earth: October 2, 3044 · Years in flight: 800 · Days awake: 356

Meera came gently out of hibernation.

Earth: October 10, 3044

Seven stood at attention in crisp uniforms. Jack Jackson, "Jumping Jack Jackson," the nickname he hated because it reminded him of coming out of hibernation, first shortened to "Triple J" then just to TJ, was lowered into a cemetery on the same ground that Lazarus Biostasis had stood 490 years earlier. It was as close as he had been to his wife in a thousand years.