Wow, it's cold. Intensely cold, almost to the point of frostbite. My eyelids are stuck together and my ears feel as if they are stuffed with cotton. Muffled voices, barely heard and unintelligible, drone in the background.
I move to reach my hands up and rub my eyes but I hit an unexpected obstruction. As I thunk against whatever it is, I hear the hiss of air escaping. The voices get louder and I can understand what is being said. As I listen, I hear an underlying creaking and I sense something is different about the speaker.
" I informed you that the chances of success were quite reasonable, 67 percent to be exact, sir. It appears the process went, as your historical colloquialisms state, 'without a hitch.' "
"The bush was right for once," another speaker says. Somehow this voice seems familiar, though I'm not sure why. American accent, almost, with a hint of something exotic.
"Sir, I must point out that I am not a 'bush', I am a ..."
"Don't care. Vitals?"
"Apart from low temperature everything is within normal range. I recommend a lukewarm bathroom raise the core temp and wake him."
"I'm awake," I croak out, low and shaky.
YOU ARE READING
The Rim Wars (working title)
Science FictionBefore I got turned into a meatsicle I would read about aliens and hostile takeovers, advanced weaponry and Independence Day-like events. I never would've guessed that when they thawed me out, it would be humans as the hostile forces. Follow Gabrie...
