Waking up from a coma induced cryosleep was an experience like no other. The feeling of breathing for the first time was the sensation that engulfed me first. Fog rolled over the glass door of my pod like a mist on a pond as I gasped through the plastic tube shoved down the depths of my throat and into my stomach and lungs. Wearing nothing but my boxers, I shiver in the frigid and supposedly controlled temperature of the pod. My eyes, glazed from machine manufactured oxygen, stare out through the fog to the dimly lit hanger just inches beyond me. The utilisation pods were much like the safety pods of the Qubæ, minus the fact that these particular machines were bolted to the thick metal walls of the Helms like patiently waiting cocoons. Standing frozen in my machine, I blink away the disorientation and shiver once more. Slowly the memories of entering the Helms, stripping to one's briefs and being taught the low-down of the cryosleep process all in the span of twenty minutes resurfaced in my brain. The crewmen had said the trip would take at least three weeks, and that the passengers would be awoken from the cryo two days before landing.
Two days before landing....
Hearing my own voice in my head after so much silence gave my brain a comforting throb. My whole body felt as if someone had sucked the energy from my bones then froze them like sacks of meat.
Good Morning - Passengers of F.D.R. Helms
The electronic click of a speaker near my ear buzz's to life as the machine positioning the tube down my throat slowly retracts. Those agonising few seconds felt like an eternity as the thick round dispenser pulls itself from my mouth at last. At the sudden release in pressure on my stomach and lungs, I barely manage to squeeze through the retracting glass door of the pod before crumpling to my knees and puking over the black metal grate of the hangar hall.
Cryosleep is a precarious process - Nausea and Vomiting is a common side-effect - Please use complementary bags
Spitting the last of the bile from my mouth, I chuckle at the delayed warning as a tiny metal claw shoots out from the pod holding a barf bag.
Wow, real timely there, Helms....
Ignoring the resistance in my knees and feet, I slowly but surely clamber to my feet and sway experimentally as I stand for the first time in almost a month. Blinking away the haze of the pod, I wonder at my surroundings. The hall was lined on both sides with pods hanged and strapped next to steaming pipes that followed the length of the hall. Several more people had stumbled from the pods and vomited over the grate as I had done, their bodies pale and weak from the journey.
"You should look for Snojyn," advises a smooth voice out of the small hum of people puking.
I turn my head ever so slightly and smile at Haven and Rysk. The two were standing side by side next to my pod, both stripped of everything but their underwear. Haven's body type was less rigid than my own, his arms and legs held no distinct muscle tone and there was a bit of a pudge at his stomach which was normal for any man of his age and wore briefs that accentuated his logistical and analytical intelligence. Rysk, on the other hand, stood wearing black boxers that fitted snugly at the waist. His tanned, muscled chest was marked and inked with at least ten tattoos, all over varying sizes and designs, giving his four pack a nice rough finish.
Looks like I'm in the middle of this spectrum, I muse to myself, glancing down ever so slightly at my normal physique.
Thinking back on Haven's advice, I look down the lengths of the hangar hall. After entering, Sno and I had been separated due to wiring difficulties.
Follow the Green Line to the Chow Hall
Perking my ears at the broadcasted instructions, I glance to the projections, my eyes flashing in surprise as the black slate beneath my bare feet begins to glow a neon green. The light pulses down the length of the hall, disappearing around a corner. Rysk appears by my side and folds his arms whilst flexing his biceps. At the action, I inwardly groan, beginning a steady step to follow the pulsing green light.
"Don't listen to Haven, go to the chow hall and get some grub. Sno will find you when she's-"
"Who are you talking to?"
YOU ARE READING
Grey Horizon
FantasiA ship has just arrived in the famous port city of Nukaro, the capital of Aegeus, and in its hull, is the last hope for all the realms of Valen. The only problem? He doesn't know it yet. Comments are welcome and encouraged!
