Future Findings

My jacket was wrinkled, while theirs looked perfect. My khakis had a few stains, yet theirs were spotless. My scuffed converse meant nothing to their designer brands. Yet I was the object of focus here. I was the main event. I guess that made me feel better, but I still felt terribly insignificant when compared to all the household names in my presence. I was willing to bet my less-than-a-million dollars that I was the the only person here that wasn’t a millionaire. Oh well.

I had the paper folded up into my pant pocket. It was signed by Troy and I, and had at least a dozen copies circulating throughout my workplace. This was to ensure that nobody could back out, I was told by a congregation of lawyers. I didn’t even bother reading the contract before I accepted it. I had nothing to lose, and everything to gain.

The penthouse took up the entire two floors of the high rise building on 4th and Douglass. My place was in the closet room-- just off of the dining room where the majority of people were congregated. I would be introduced by the owner of this place, the fellow named Troy Baker. That’s when I would be able to leave my hiding place and smile to the thunderous applause of top class citizens.Though nobody could see me, I could see them. They held glasses with fine dignity, and flaunted their perfect hair and clothing. I could name more than a dozen of them, though I had never met them personally.

There was Troy, in the near center of the giant dining room, talking with a handful of fellow rich people. Nobody was sitting at the table-- dinner had ended hours ago. Troy was the man that had made me being here possible. Without him, I would still be a janitor working in his facility on the other side of town.

If the ideal male was possible to achieve, Troy would be the result. He had clean cut black hair: parted on the left and flowing perfectly over his large forehead. He wore a black suit, but his strong biceps were still visible underneath the thin silk coat. His dark hazel eyes gleamed, and they soon moved over to me. I avoided his eye contact and checked the clock hanging over the entrance to the kitchen. It appeared to be gold plated with crystals indicating every hour. 8:25. My time would be here in five minutes.

Though Troy owned and ran a scientific testing facility, he was not a scientist himself. He was a douchebag CEO-- with the money to chase his wild dreams. One such dream: immortality. That’s where I came in. I’m the lab rat. His scientists needed someone who would be willing to give their life up for money, and who better than the poor night shift janitor? I wasn’t complaining, however. Being the labrat meant I got attention, more money than I could imagine, and a chance at living forever. Sort of.

It was called cryogenics. I would be put into a frozen stasis, while still alive and breathing, and would wake up hundreds or thousands of years later. The scientists said that once I was frozen, I wouldn’t be able to be wake up until the technology to resurrect me safely was created. However, they would be able to test for signs of life while I sleep, and could improve their technology to meet Troy’s aspirations of never dying accordingly. It wasn’t really the money or recognition that enticed me, it was the possibility of being able to live again.

To wake up in the future, new. To have left all my problems behind me. To experience something that I was never meant to see. That’s why I decided to be the labrat.

My name is Abid Decker, and I would be the first person to undergo cryogenesis while alive and come back thousands of years in the future. I’ve always been told I have an odd name. “Abid” gives the impression of a Middle Eastern, African, or Indian man. But really I’m a pale white man from the midwest. My parents gave me the name because they wanted a unique child with a unique name. Tom or Gregory or Leroy just wasn’t eccentric enough.

I continued to watch the wealthy partygoers, and counted down the time until I made my big entrance.

8:30. But I couldn’t go yet. I couldn’t leave the room until Troy gave me the signal. The signal was basically just him waltzing over to me and grabbing me by the shoulder. After he arrived, he pulled me out into the dining room. I stood awkwardly at the head of the table for a few minutes while everyone throughout the penthouse floated into the room. I was just beginning to take interest in the odd foods at the table, including calamari and something that looked like purple alien broccoli, before Troy commanded for everyone’s attention.

He briskly clapped his hands together, and began his speech.

“Hello everyone! As you know, you’re all here to witness a breathtaking leap in the journey towards immortality!” he set his clean and smooth hands on the back of one of the ornate oak chairs at the table. “My company, under my management, has devised the technology to allow someone to enter cryogenic stasis, and keep them perpetually frozen, and alive, until the ability to reawaken them is created. Using this same technology, it is my hope that extending human lives by 20, 30, 500 years is well within our grasp!”

Troy clapped his hand on my back, hard enough so that my breath was pushed out for a second. “This man right here, Abid Docker, will be our ‘lab rat’ of sorts.” Yup. He said my name wrong.

“He started as a night janitor at my facility, but has recently worked his way up to having the honor of being the first human… frozen alive!” At this, everyone politely clapped. It was a kind but utterly emotionless noise.

Troy turned his head so that his eyes were staring straight at mine. Except he wasn’t looking at me, it was if he was looking right through me. I fully came to realize that to him, I was nothing more than a stepping stone for him to grind with his heel on his ascension to complete power. I tried to avoid eye contact, but his eyes gleamed so brightly that I was forced to glare at them. Like a bright light in the distance on a stormy night, you can’t help but wonder how it came to be, and why it is there. So I kept my eyes locked on his, until his hand left my back and moved elsewhere.

I was suddenly aware that his wife was now standing next to him. Laura’s beauty almost, but not quite, overshadowed his handsomeness. If he was the devil of this place, she was the angel. Her black hair was even darker than his, with the locks flowing over her tanned shoulders and coffee-colored skin. She had brown eyes, nearly hazel. But where Troy had tints of murky brown and blue, she had gold.

She looked at people, not through them. She smiled with a genuine smile; not the overused rich person shine. Though Troy was pleasing to look at, Laura was pleasing to be with. Pleasing to talk to. Pleasing to know. It was no wonder that Troy had married her, she commanded your love. Though I had not been officially introduced to her, and likely never would, I knew her name. Hell, everyone did. The poor girl that rose to celebrity status by marrying one of the most wealthy men in America. She was a Cinderella story, through and through.

“We, meaning all the donors and hard workers at my husband’s facility, as well as him and I, are pleased to get this thrilling exercise underway!” She looked off into the crowd and gently shook her head, presumably signalling to someone that something should start now. A path started within the crowd, being officiated by burly men in brown suits. Bodyguards undercover, I supposed. They made a more or less straight line through the millionaires, and stood on either side of the way.

Troy grabbed my elbow again, and walked side by side with his wife while I trailed behind. Mrs. Baker’s blood red dress dragged behind her, shining on the ornate planks of wood that made up the majority of the flooring in her home. Her slim body moved from side to side as she walked, while Troy’s stayed relatively still.

He still had his hand on my elbow, as if he was leading a kid to his room as punishment. But my room was a cold chamber that I would spend decades in. Though I couldn’t see around the pair, or through the crowd, I knew where we were heading. A coffin like catastrophe, consisting of metals and plastics. It stood on end, rising to about 7 feet tall. But the Bakers headed toward their staircase. I guess the coffin resided on their lower floor. Which meant I had a couple minutes of being gawked at before I was thrown into the chamber.

But instead of staring at the floor, I tried to meet the gaze of everyone I could. This would be the last people I would see for a couple hundred years, maybe more. Might as well make the most of it. Besides, they were here to see the “lab rat” perform. It was my job to give them a show, and that’s exactly what I would do.

Waiting at the bottom of the stairs was a woman dressed in a lab coat. The long, flowing white one that scientists in tv shows and movies wore. I didn’t know that people actually wore them, but the proof was right in front of me. Troy loosened his grip on my elbow as we got to the landing at the bottom, and I was able to slow down a little to talk to the lady. She was obviously waiting for me.

She looked familiar, though I couldn’t quite place her face. It was after she introduced herself that I figured it out.

“Hello,” she said quietly and somewhat robot-like. “My name is Genie, I’m the scientist responsible for your… uh, transition.” That’s why I recognized her. She worked at the facility, the Baker’s building. Troy and Laura were gaining distance, so Genie and I started walking after them.

“I’m-” I said, but she cut me off.

“I know who you are. You’re Abid. You’re going to be the first person frozen alive, and woken up hundreds of years later.” She spoke a little less like a robot, and a little more like a fascinated child at the zoo.

“Oh,” I said and smiled. She had her face pointed straight ahead and wasn’t looking at me, so I took the opportunity to take a peek at her. She wore her auburn hair in a tight braid behind her. It trailed down her back, and ended just short of the small of her back. Though the oversized lab coat concealed her body, I could tell that she had quite the figure.

Abruptly, she turned to me. She noticed me staring at her waist, so I coughed and pretended that I hadn’t been. She smirked.

Her ice blue eyes met mine, and she spoke up.

“When we put you under, it might hurt. Hell, it might be excruciatingly painful, but you’re not dying. At least, I don’t think so. And when you’re fully frozen, you won’t experience any conscious thought. It’ll be like falling asleep, and waking up nine hours later, even though it felt like less than five minutes have passed. But until you’re under, it will hurt.” Great, I thought.

She looked at me, and must’ve sensed the apprehension dwelling within me.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “It’ll all be okay. And when you wake up, you’ll be in the far future. Away from all troubles, and hopefully surrounded by friendly people and crazy inventions. God, I wish I was you. Oh, and I’m gonna need to take your phone-- just a safety precaution” she told me. My phone was how they were supposed to transfer my money over to me, but I didn’t care.

Though she said it with some truth in her voice, I knew she really didn’t wish she was me. Not many people would be willing to abandon their entire lives to wake up in an unknown and mystic world. I guessed that I was one of the few that was okay with it. And that’s why Troy picked me.

Genie and I walked in silence, to the wide-eyed looks of the world’s wealthiest. Some had cameras out, but most just stared.

Finally, I had arrived. The chamber stood in front of me. It was hooked up to countless machineries, and seemed to pulse with raw energy. For a solid second, I wondered how it was legal to have something this dangerous and powerful in the middle of a city. But the Bakers were rich; they could do whatever they wanted.

It seemed to tower above my small stature, though it was really not much more than a foot taller than me. It was situated in the corner of the ballroom, taking up a giant amount of space. It was nearly all shiny and dark gray, except for the glass on the front of it. That would presumably be where my face would rest during my hundred years of rest. Through the glass piece, the interior was visible. It was slate gray, though it seemed to be more blue when I looked through the hue of the window.

There was no seatbelt. No pillow. No mattress. Just a cold, metal room that was about to get a lot colder. Tubes and wires tunneled throughout, yet there was not even a trace of comfort. Troy and Laura were looking expectantly at me. Genie moved forward, tending to the electronic interface that stood a yard away from my coffin. She seemed to shy away from the public, whereas the Bakers basked in it like a lizard in the afternoon heat.

Abruptly, Troy spoke up. “Today, at this very moment, we will begin our journey to longevity, power, and even immortality!” Everyone clapped, and there were even a few distant whoops throughout the crowd. But the group quickly grew silent, patiently waiting for me to act.

Troy grasped my hand and briskly shook it-- the way two opposing officials would interact, though there were no cameras or newscasters present. After Troy relinquished my hand, Laura leapt forward to give me a warm hug. She held it for upwards of 5 seconds, and took the time to quietly whisper something in my ear.

“I’ll see you later,” she told me. What does that mean? By the time I wake up, everyone here’s gonna be dead. So how am I gonna see her later? It’s not like she’ll be alive in a couple hundred years. Unless… she gets frozen as well. But that doesn’t make sense. Why would Troy risk losing the love of his life to pioneer cryogenics, when he’s got workers like me at his facility more than willing to do it?

She slowly loosened her grasp on me, and I let her go. Though this was the first time she had ever touched me, I felt an immense sense of loss, simply from losing the sensation of her skin on mine.

Then it hit me. How long has it been since I’ve hugged someone? How long had it been since I participated in a warm and loving embrace with someone else? God, I had no idea. I hadn’t seen my parents in two years, and my sister was on the other side of the world working for some British company. So many thoughts were bombarding me simultaneously that I barely noticed when Genie opened the door of the coffin and took my elbow to lead me in. The room was still completely silent.

She turned me around so that I was facing her, and pushed me up against the cold interior. Then, she forced a metal cusp around my wrist, likely to take my vitals. Finally, she asked me one question.

“Does it feel okay?”

“I guess. Not very comfortable, though,” I replied.

“Oh don’t worry. You won’t have to feel it again until you wake up.” Well great, I thought. She began to close the door to end the conversation, but quickly opened it up again. I looked at her inquisitively.

“Good luck,” she told me, and shut me in.