100 Lightyears 

by Søvn Drake / sleepingdraco

Standard travel cryotherapy doesn't guarantee injury free preservation, but incidents are rare. For the first round at least. Second freezes have high rates of minor limb loss–up to 90% lose a toe or a finger. Arms and legs are still at considerable risk, nearly 20%. A third round is inadvisable with death not being the worst outcome.

No one knew these risks better than the renowned scientist, Dr. Eleanor Mercer. She had designed the travel capsules–just one of her many notable accomplishments. She had worked hard her whole life to fuel her successful career. Unfortunately, as a result, there were many things Eleanor didn't know.

"You're a bitch!" screamed Ian.

Ian was a slight, awkward man with a thick head of unruly hair that Eleanor had gripped like the fate of the universe depended on it while they shagged in the control room light years away from any other human beings. Somehow, in the dim blue and red lights of the console with nothing but the vastness of infinite space in front of them, she couldn't find a single fault in this man.

But the space time continuum heals all delusions.

"Shut up and get back in your capsule," she said slowly in a low voice. "It's time for you to join your wife."

She sounded like a serial killer. Her face burned. She never knew she was capable of such loathing. But space travel did strange things to people. It was she who had impulsively programmed this unscheduled layover to have more time with Ian after their initial tryst which happened to both of their nerdy surprise three days after take off.

Ian pursed his lips. His thin frame shook and his nostrils flared as he breathed noisily through them. God he looks like a toad, thought Eleanor. How did she ever find him attractive? And why did she think she wanted an extra five years with him? The initial experiments had taken only two weeks and the plan had been to freeze for 99 years, 11 months. But Eleanor got greedy and set the timer for only 95 years.

Ian hadn't complained about waking up early from his hibernation. No, they were still blindly in love after 95 years. But honestly the ship hadn't been designed for domestic living and, when living together 24/7 in cramped corridors, humans can't keep their unattractive traits to themselves for very long.

Six weeks after defrosting, Ian and Eleanor's relationship cooled. Eleanor finally saw Ian for what he was: an insecure child who liked to brag about his scientific accomplishments which, in her opinion, weren't even that impressive. No wonder his wife had left ahead of him on this mission.

And Ian realized Eleanor's true colors. "You are such a bitch!" he screamed again.

Eleanor climbed into her tank beside Ian's and laid down. Cool liquid began pouring in, pressing against her space suit, weighing her down. Ian lay out of sight beside her but she could hear the flemmy grunt he made when he got really worked up. She closed her eyes and tried to block out the noise. A lump formed in the back of her throat. This disaster she had created meant she could never go back to earth again.

She pictured her favorite path in the temperate rainforest near her home. Unlike space, it felt so full of life. Immense green ferns, heavy with dew, brushing her legs. Birds above calling to one another. The smell of rich volcanic soil teeming with organisms. The thrill of an occasional glimpse of an elk or a bear. Only there did she ever feel at peace, only there could the constant buzzing of her mind begin to quiet. For all she knew the universe didn't contain anything else like it.

Just before the cryo liquid reached her ears and the lid shut she heard Ian's high pitched voice.

"If my weiner falls off on this round I blame you!"

Eleanor smiled. Yes, minor limb loss, she thought. She could only hope.