Waking the Zed

Waking the Zed - By ML Katz





Waking the ZED



"I am alone and miserable; man will not associate with me; but one as deformed and horrible as myself would not deny herself to me. My companion must be of the same species and have the same defects.

This being you must create."

Mary Shelley, Frankenstein





Future Faith Cryonics, Incorporated



Dr. Ada Klein’s mood almost appeared rapturous as she made a circuit of Preservation Room 17. Her rubber soled shoes glided soundlessly across the gleaming tiles. Her expertly outlined and tinted lips curved upward in an unusually placid smile. A streak of grey accented her dark and carefully coifed hair. The colorful scarf, draped artfully over her narrow shoulders, fluttered about as she walked. As the slim middle aged woman moved from one gleaming man-sized capsule to another, she bent over the transparent face plate of each tube, considered it, smiled, and then moved on.

Pam Stone, the graduate student intern, stood stoically as her boss made a circuit of the room. For a moment she thought that her boss’s movements reminded her of a dancer making a grand sweep of a ballroom while curtsying to an array of suitors. Of course, the grey streak in the doctor’s dark hair, her cold manner, and her current occupation also reminded Pam of an old black and white horror movie she had seen at a teenage sleepover. Considering that the gleaming steel and glass cylinders each contained the preserved body of one of Dr. Klein’s clients, Pam thought, not for the first time, that her middle aged mentor’s actions and mannerisms were really quite creepy. An involuntary chill ran up Pam’s spine.

Pam cleared her throat, reluctant to disturb her boss’s reveries for a variety of reasons. When the older woman glanced over at her, Pam asked, “Dr. Klein, do you want me to run the usual diagnostics this morning?”

In contrast to Dr. Klein’s slim and elegant figure and carefully coifed hair, Pam appeared sturdy and natural looking. Her unremarkable straight hair fell past her shoulders. She had tied it back in a loose and simple pony tail for work. Some Native American ancestors had bequeathed Pam high cheekbones and a long straight nose. English ancestors had contributed her pale eyes. But otherwise Pam Stone’s pleasant face appeared rather strong but unremarkable. Though trim, her corn-fed upbringing on an Iowa farm showed in her muscular legs, strong hands, and fairly broad shoulders.

When Pamela stood next to Dr. Klein she often felt like a thick, ungainly, and untutored hayseed. Few people actually ever considered Pam Stone, a pathology doctoral candidate with her own research and publishing credentials, any of these things. She just has that affect o people. Pam frowned crookedly.

Dr. Klein looked up slowly, as if Pam had just pulled her out of a private fantasy. Though Pam had arrived, on time, at her assigned duty station, she felt like an unwelcome intruder. The older woman considered the request and seemed to study her intern for a moment. Then she shook her head and said, “No, I have something very different planned for this morning. Hopefully, you can handle a change to your normal and expected routine.”

The doctor did not elaborate immediately, so Pam just continued to stand there uncomfortably, trying not to shift from one foot to the other. Truth be told, the more that Pamela learned about Future Faith Cryonics, the more she thought the whole operation was a giant scam that existed to suck generous annuity payments from each paying client.

Pam knew that this collection of industry giants and political leaders could have well afforded the price tag of the required annuity fund that had to be established to pay for their care. Their heirs would be unlikely to skip a five star restaurant meal, utility bill, or even a luxury trip to St Bart’s because of the added expense. But Pam also knew that many live people subsisted on less money than Future Faith Cryonics required for the care of the dead. She certainly thought that the money could be put to better use funding care for the living. The whole concept just jarred with her normally practical way of viewing the world.

There, Pam had thought it, and she knew she believed it. No matter what Future Faith Cryonics called those poor people, they were surely dead and quite likely to stay that way. No matter how much Dr. Klein insisted that Future Faith preserved the cream of society until they could be safely revived, Pamela believed that her boss either must be lying or deluded.

Dr. Klein paused and gazed at her young assistant. She kept her placid smile frozen in place, enjoying the younger woman’s discomfort. She imagined how Pamela would look, frozen in one of the gleaming capsules. If Pam Stone could have shared that image she surely would have listened to her instincts and bolted for the door.

“Ms. Stone thinks she keeps her face impassive, but I know what she’s thinking,” the doctor speculated silently. “Well, she doesn’t have to believe in me. She only has to do her job for a little while longer. After that she can return to school or her parent’s farm for all I care. People like her should be usefully employed teaching middle school science classes. People like me change the world through the advancement of human knowledge.”

Dr. Ada Klein had surely always believed in herself. Even if her parents had not always lavished praise on their perfect little girl, which they certainly did, she would had been aware of her gifts since before the very first day she had entered kindergarten class. She had certainly never had any issues with her school work, except for being bored by the chore of copying simple words or coloring in boxes to work out basic math problems. Sometimes she had only felt challenged by minimizing her gifts so she would not draw the ire of her more modestly talented classmates.

As a very young child, Ada had learned that she could not be the first one with the right answer every time. Now as an accomplished scientist, she learned that restriction no longer applied.

Once the final results of her work became public knowledge she imagined that many of her past acquaintances, including old schoolmates, would be beating on her door for help rather than mocking or shunning her. Everybody will be eager to tell all their friends that they knew me. This simple and cynical young woman she employed as a favor to the university, for example, would be clamoring for full time work instead of regarding her duties as some sort of highly paid nonsense. Then Dr. Klein could decide if she would get more pleasure from terminating the young woman’s employment or keeping her around to torment a bit longer.

In the meantime, Dr. Klein certainly never minded the fact that she spent most of her time working with the uncomplaining corpses in the gleaming laboratory, away from the chatter of animate people. Her client’s passive faces, viewed through the transparent face plates, seemed calm and restful. She imagined they almost looked hopeful. Her clients certainly would not speak up to censure her when her experiments finally legitimized a lifetime of work. She imagined them rising from their preservations chambers full of praise and gratitude. They would have Dr. Ada Klein to thank because she was their savior.

Technically, at least in the opinion of Future Faith Cryonics, Incorporated, the hard frozen bodies, resting in their separate capsules around her were not corpses at all. They were her very wealthy clients who had chosen cybernetic freezing, right at the moment of death instead of a burial. She would have harvested them sooner, before a doctor called the time of death, but the laws forbade it. Dr. Klein considered these laws quite silly and old-fashioned, but she had to abide by them to stay in business.

In the case of the silent and still residents of the frosty capsules, the line between life and death blurred. But in life, they believed they could be preserved at the moment before a doctor would call their time of death. And then they believed in the promise of resurrection when science had advanced sufficiently to revive and cure them. They had believed that Future Faith Cryonics, Incorporated was the best company to insure their destiny.

Ada’s clients may have believed in the promise of cheating death partially because of the scientist’s global reputation. A few decades earlier Dr. Klein had made a name for herself by working on the team that developed a virus blocking protein that cured everything from common colds to Ebola. She could have retired on her royalties as a rich and admired person. But she had not been content with simply curing the living when she was sure that in many cases she could even raise the dead. Dr. Klein actually lived quite frugally and invested most of her cash back into the company. She enjoyed having a comfortable and secure income but she craved renown.

Her customer service representatives and expensively printed literature all made a very good case as well. The researcher had spared no expense when she hired gifted speakers, printed expensive brochures, and arranged for luxury seminars. However, Dr. Klein knew that the real reason that she housed the earthly remains of millionaires and billionaires was because she had convinced them that they were the type of people who deserved another chance. The rules of life and death just did not apply to them. They deserved her care and attention just as they had deserved luxury cars, gourmet food, and power when they walked among the living.

“Dr. Klein, what do you want me to do?” Pamela asked finally, bemused, and more than a bit repelled, by the other woman’s odd behavior. She wondered what distracted her boss this morning. She thought about asking if something was wrong, but decided she really did not want a closer examination of Dr. Klein’s private thoughts at this time.

“The standard diagnostics won’t be necessary,” Ada said pleasantly, “because I worked late last night and ran them myself. I have something else planned for today. It’s quite important, and I’m just trying to make a final decision about which clients to begin with.”

“Does it matter?” Pam said out loud before she could stop herself. Ada just turned back to look at Pamela and smiled. The smile did not reach all the way to her eyes though. Something in Dr. Klein’s expression reminded Pam of a very stern teacher she had endured as a bright but somewhat hyperactive eight year old elementary school student. That thought made Pam dislike the woman all the more.

“Look, Ms. Stone,” Dr. Klein finally said, “I know you don’t approve of my business. You also don’t think that this internship is particularly educational for a pathology doctoral student. I believe you told my engineer, Mr. Sanchez, that you felt like you were babysitting corpses.”

Pamela could not see her own face but she was pretty sure she blushed as she forced herself to remain silent. She certainly felt heat rising to her face. She knew should not have said anything disparaging to the young engineer who kept the company’s machinery running. She had simply thought he had found her attractive. She had believed she was just making clever small talk to flirt a bit. He had even smiled at her when she said it. Pam had no idea that Enrico would take her seriously enough to report her words back to Dr. Klein.

“I find your attitude particularly disappointing,” Dr. Klein continued. “When you interviewed for this position, you seemed quite interested in Future Faith Cryonics. I wanted to give an opportunity to a promising young student. I also find your comments quite disloyal and disrespectful. You need to learn to be more professional.”

“I’m sorry. It was just a joke.” Pam shook her head. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.” She still disliked her boss but the older woman did have a point. She had been happy enough to accept the prestigious internship and the high salary. She did not need to walk around biting the hand that fed her. Chagrined and chastised, Pam waited for her employer to continue.

Pam had never actually been fired from any job before, but she honestly believed she might feel relieved if she was fired from this one. Then she could see if the therapy ranch job was still open and spend the rest of her summer enjoying worthwhile labor making the lives of disabled people happier and more productive. She had time to worry about her resume later. Perhaps any employer she would want to spend a long time working with would think a therapy ranch job, combined with her academic credentials, would make her as worthy as somebody who spent their time monitoring corpses.

“No matter,” Dr. Klein said curtly. “I cannot let this little matter distract me from the tasks I need to accomplish today.” She smoothed her scarf and patted her carefully styled hair as if these actions would help her get her thoughts back on track. “Today I intend to experiment with a new serum, and I want to select two clients who seem particularly hardy.”

Pam practically grimaced as she choked back her thoughts. None of them are hardy. They’re dead. Despite her internal dialogue, she tried to remain quiet and composed as she waited for instructions. She sucked at her lower lip and had to keep herself from biting it. This was difficult because Pam was sure her bitten lip was the only thing that would keep her from making an ill-chosen response if she had much longer to wait.

Dr. Klein took her time, moving her head as she considered each of the frozen capsules. “I think Mr. Barnes and Mrs. Bell will be the best choices,” she finally said. Her head moved up and down in a determined nod. “They were both under fifty when they came to us. Poor Mr. Barnes crashed his small plane and couldn’t be revived. Dear Mrs. Bell was hurt in a freak skiing accident, though otherwise she was quite healthy.” She turned back to Pam. “Did you know that she had once tried out for the US Olympic team? Her death was quite tragic.”

Without waiting for an answer, Dr. Klein nodded and continued, “I need you to wheel in a tank marked Serum A. You will find it in the large cooler just outside this room. Be careful with it and remember that this is quite a big opportunity for you. Deserving or not, you may actually learn quite a bit today. Do you think you can handle it?”

“Sure,” Pam said, “I can handle the tank. I know how to move heavy things.”

As she turned on her heel, she had to bite back a snort. Sure, it’s quite a big opportunity to learn to handle a hand truck. Still, she was relieved to leave the company of her eccentric boss and her shiny capsules full of dead people, if even for a moment.

Since Pamela had chosen to study human pathology, she had no particular problem with cadavers. She had certainly worked with them before in order to gain skills she believed she could use to help living people. She believed that if her work helped living people, and she showed proper respect, she would honor the dead who had donated their bodies to science as a final gift.

And even though Pamela was already two years into her pathology PH.D., she had no problem performing manual labor. Raised on a working farm in Iowa, she had become used to hard work at an early age. It usually invigorated and revived her. Seeing a field full of healthy growing produce that she had helped plow and plant satisfied her as much as the addition of her name to a paper published in a prestigious journal.

Pam Stone was no squeamish ninny.

These days Pamela mostly immersed herself in school and science, but sometimes she only felt truly alive when she had some hard physical task to perform. In fact, Pamela had considered taking a low paying summer job on a therapeutic ranch instead of this internship just because she thought she would enjoy it more. She had no problems working with the dead, but only if her work might actually help the living. She had certainly hesitated before taking this internship, but in the end she had let her shrunken bank account and her advisor’s advice prevail. An internship with the notable Dr. Klein would be a star on her resume later. Ridiculously generous paychecks would allow her to keep her nice apartment and stave off more debt.

She found the fifteen gallon tank in the cooler. It had been clearly marked as Serum A in Dr. Klein’s usual meticulous way. Of course, the label told her nothing about what the tank contained.

Filled, Pam estimated that the tank weighed almost a hundred and fifty pounds. Still, she did not experience summers on a working farm without learning how to use tools to move heavy objects. With the right tools and techniques a sturdy young woman could perform most jobs as well as a much stronger guy. She rolled the heavy tank with practiced ease onto the platform of a hand truck. Then she wheeled it back to the laboratory. She had no idea why Dr. Klein wanted to experiment with a new blood replacement solution, but supposed the doctor simply wanted to find a better way to preserve the frozen remains.

After she returned to the preservation room, Pam assisted the doctor as she replaced the permanent serum feed with a temporary hose from the tank. They started with Mr. Barnes. When Dr. Klein was satisfied with the temporary feed she instructed Pam to do the same for Mrs. Bell.

The old solution slowly dripped from an outlet into drains on the steel tiled floor. As the new liquid replaced the old liquid the tanks grew slightly darker. They also seemed to pick up a faint pinkish glow from the lights. Under the bright laboratory lights the capsules almost started to look as if they had bodies encased in some sort of jewels. Pam entertained the cynical thought that the image would make a good selling point for one of Future Faith’s brochures.

Pam watched carefully as Dr. Klein carefully monitored the procedure. Pam supposed this was merely some routine experiment, but she did note that the doctor’s eyes almost looked shiny from excitement. It’s good that she, at least, is enthusiastic about her job. Pam noticed that the older woman’s bright eyed expression seemed to shave years off of her face. She looked more like the press photos Pam found on the Internet when she had first researched Future Faith Cryonics.

For once, Dr. Klein almost looked cheerful and youthful. Pam knew that Dr. Klein had been regarded as a beautiful woman a couple of decades ago when she’d first risen to prominence in her field. Now, I guess she’s still what my folks would call a handsome woman. But when she’s happy I can still see her beauty. I guess her disposition accounts for the fact that she never married. Even as Pam entertained that thought she dismissed it as unfair.

Without looking up from her work, the doctor said, “I need you to set the timer to slowly raise the temperature to seventy-two degrees over the course of three hours. Just set it to automatically spread the temperature adjustments equally over time.”

“Dr. Klein, you don’t mean to unfreeze them, do you?”

“I do,” the doctor said flatly. She did not even bother to look up and meet Pam’s eyes.

“I thought you had a contract to keep these people frozen and preserved until they could be revived? If you raise the solution to room temperature, they’ll surely degrade quickly.” By degrade, Pam meant rot. In her opinion, returning a body to the elements should be something that was done under ground and out of sight. She frowned, wondering again just how badly she really needed this job. “You can’t just experiment on them like this. Do you have some way to preserve them without freezing?”

“Ms. Stone, I have a contract to preserve them until they can be revived,” Dr. Klein said, smiling placidly. She spoke softly and slowly as if she was explaining multiplication to a dull child. Her tone almost sounded musical to Pam though it was certainly intended to be biting. “If they are revived, their own body mechanisms will keep them from degrading just as yours do. You don’t have to walk around in a freezer suit, right?”

“Of course I don’t.” Pam answered as if Dr. Klein had really required an answer.

The doctor put her hands on her hips and looked directly at Pam. “Future Faith also has a mission to work on reviving them. That is also part of the contract. Otherwise this would just be a very expensive cemetery. Is that what you think this is, Ms. Stone?”

“You actually believe you can revive these people right now?” Pamela asked, plainly aghast. She knew the futility of arguing her point with this stubborn woman, but she could not stop the words from escaping her mouth. “Do you actually think you can wake them up? They were declared dead several months ago.”

“Listen, while I have been paying you fifty dollars an hour to make jokes and perform tasks that any bright eighth grader could be trained to do, I have been working on real science. You must be familiar with my reputation. Why else would you have coveted this internship so much?” She cocked her head, waiting for an answer. Pam had no argument. They both knew she had pursued the internship as a bright mark on her resume as well as a generous paycheck.

Then the doctor gestured with her hands as if she were holding an expanding globe. “My serum can regenerate the damage and actually grow new life. I will certainly let you review my papers later, but right now it has to be a closely guarded secret. I’m sure you can understand that.”

“Why does it have to be a secret?” Pam asked. “Wouldn’t the scientific community want to hear about something like this?” Is it because you know it’s either a charade or nuts?

“Don’t take offense, Ms. Stone, but you obviously took this position because you needed the money. That’s nothing to be ashamed of. Many students find themselves in your position. But as you might guess, this formula could be priceless.”

Pam sighed. This woman actually believes she can wake up dead people. She’s so paranoid she thinks I’m here to steal her secrets. The only buyers might be science fiction or horror fiction publishers. Pamela had assumed the Dr. Klein had just become a cynical charlatan in her old age, but now she wondered if the woman was actually deluded. She looked at her employer in alarm and asked, “Have you even actually tested this on animals?”

“Of course,” Ada said with a dismissive wave. “I sacrificed a hundred mice before I began to see any results. First I woke up a dozen of the little fellows before I moved on to dogs. Then I finally revived primates. The animal labs are in another part of this building, and are manned by an entirely different crew. Perhaps you, with your rustic background, would have been more comfortable working there. Didn’t you mention that you had grown up on a farm?”

“The animals died, you froze them, and then you woke them up?” Pam asked again. She tried to picture the experiments in her mind. Did the mice have little individual capsules or did she just throw them in a freezer?

Dr. Klein’s explanations just continued to make Pam feel more stubborn. She refused to be baited by Dr. Klein suggestion that she was somehow primitive because she had grown up on a farm. She was a successful pathology doctoral candidate, and if she decided to work with animals, it would be for some sane reason.

“Your summary is simplistic, but essentially accurate,” Dr. Klein said again. “You know that the current regulations prevent us from harvesting our human clients until they have actually been declared dead. In my opinion those regulations are unfair and restrictive. They hamper my work and increase the risk. But I had to operate under the same constraints when I tested my serum on animals.”

“You killed the healthy lab animals in order to attempt to revive them?”

The doctor shrugged carelessly. “I consider the sacrifice of laboratory animals regrettable but absolutely necessary. You’re no vegetarian, Ms. Stone. You don’t mind sacrificing animals for your burgers or soup. But you have options. I actually am a vegetarian now, but in this case I had no alternative.”

Dr. Klein sighed as she thought her assistant was becoming tedious. At first, the young woman’s round eyed expression of disbelief had been humorous. It turned Pam’s interesting face into an almost comic caricature. But now, on the brink of a life-changing scientific breath through, Pam was quickly growing tiresome. “Ms. Stone, I tolerate your questions because you are, after all, a student. I even credit you with possessing a better than average intelligence and scholarly reputation for so young of a student. That’s why I gave you this opportunity. But we are still worlds apart. I really just require your ability to follow my instructions. May we proceed? “

Pam stopped herself from mumbling an automatic apology. She was not quite ready to be silenced but she knew that she and the doctor were not standing here today as equals. She bit back an immediate reply with an effort.

Still, if the day came when science had ever advanced sufficiently to revive the long dead, which Pam doubted would ever happen she expected the deeds to be performed in hospitals and attended by a large team of doctors and scientists. There might even be mobs or reporters waiting outside. The science and ethics would certainly be discussed in the news. Political and religious leaders would probably hold heated debates. She certainly did not expect a historical event like this to first happen in a quiet room, located in a private lab, attended by one scientist, perhaps a mad scientist, and one reluctant laboratory assistant.

Pam unconsciously bit her lip as she watched the serum from the small tank replace the existing fluids in the bodies of Mr. Barnes and Mrs. Bell. So far nothing had changed except for a slight tinting of the liquid in the capsules where the dead floated. Except for the awful waste of the lab animals, maybe nothing has really changed that much. Then Pamela glanced at Dr. Klein and saw that other woman was watching her, her mouth set in an impatient line.

Pamela shrugged. She did not want to raise the temperature. She did not have to be a scientist to know that warm dead things rot unless they are preserved in some way that is incompatible with life. But these people were, after all, actually dead. They had committed their mortal remains to Future Faith, and it was not like the company broke any laws by experimenting on the dead when they had full permission to do so. This would be especially true if these poor souls had even signed up for the experiments when they were still alive and mentally healthy. Apparently Mr. Barnes and Mrs. Bell had died accidentally, and not after some illness that might have damaged their mental facilities. Pam did not suppose she could do any real harm by following Dr. Klein’s orders. She certainly could not make dead people any sicker. They’re dead. It’s not like I’m killing them or something.

Pam’s frown deepened as she slowly turned back to the control panel and carefully selected the temperature control application on the touch screen mounted on the wall beside her. As she set the final temperature and time duration for Mr. Barnes, a red warning flashed on the screen. Pamela had to manually override the control in order to set the number at any point above a hard freeze. Finally, the device beeped in recognition of its new settings. Pamela sighed and repeated the process for Mrs. Bell. She waited for the confirmation and then turned back to her boss and said, “It’s done.” Then Pam felt like she needed to add, “I did what you told me to do.”

“Fine,” Dr. Klein said. “I just need you to monitor the readings for these two subjects for the next few hours. If you see anything abnormal, be sure and notify me. In the meantime keep detailed notes. Of course, the automatic safety systems should keep me informed over my handheld device, but I still believe in using a human eye and mind as a backup. That’s your job, Ms. Stone. You are employed to simply back up my computer systems. I don’t require anything else from you.”

“Right,” Pam said, still unwilling to be baited. She had just determined she would do her best to get through this day, and then maybe go home and figure out if she could find some other way to pay her bills. It would be such a relief to show up for work anywhere without this witch around.

The thought of all of those poor laboratory animals being sacrificed for Dr. Klein’s mad ambitions did not sit well with Pam. In a way Dr. Klein had a point though. Pam was no vegan, and she had even spent time hunting and butchering animals back on the family farm. On more than one occasion, it had also been Pam’s unpleasant duty to put down a sick or injured beast. She also believed in the occasional justification to experiment with animals for the greater good of humanity, but she would never condone it without an excellent reason. She certainly did not like to see any animals suffer. Pam avoided certain brands of cosmetics because the companies testing practices had been exposed as cruel to animals.

Pam consoled herself. After she earned her doctorate, Pam assumed that she should have plenty of six figure job offers. Other pathology doctoral candidates she had known seemed to be able to pick and choose from a varied selection of opportunities. Her mounting student loans would be burdensome, but not totally unmanageable. As soon as she finished her degree, she could move into some type of productive work and put Future Faith far behind her.

She figured the rest of the work day would be unpleasant, but a ten hour shift here would equal another five hundred dollars deposited into her shrunken bank account. That would be enough to purchase most of her text books or pay for another class next semester. Her check for the month should be close to ten thousand dollars, and that would pay most of her modest living expenses for the next few months. If she could have stuck it out for another month, she would have had two semesters paid for. In another few years I won’t have to pick my job based solely on the salary, but right now I can’t afford to ignore reality. Losing this job would be regretful from a financial standpoint.

Her mind still calculated how she could find a temporary job to make up the difference. It will certainly be too late to find a solid internship, but checking out groceries or waiting tables seem like attractive options at this point. They really liked me at the therapy ranch and maybe they can find a spot for me to ride out the summer.

Then Pam decided that she would probably cooperate until she had her month’s pay safely deposited in her bank account, and then she would simply resign to find more hopeful and productive work with the living. It might be awkward explaining to potential future employers why she would rather they did not call Dr. Klein for a reference, but maybe she would just risk leaving this internship off of her resume altogether. Taking this job had been a mistake but Pam believed she could recover.

As Pam considered her future, an uneventful hour passed. She watched the monitors and made infrequent notes on her handheld tablet as she thought about possibilities. Dr. Klein had watched her work for a few minutes, and then departed without a word. The gleaming, silent room still felt creepy and chilly. Pamela pulled a second lab coat out of the small closet to provide her with a thermal layer. She wished Dr. Klein would allow her to play some music or even browse the current news on her phone, but that was strictly against policy. The doctor wanted no distractions on the job. For some reason, Dr. Klein thought it would be important to listen to sounds in the room too. Pam had no idea what she was supposed to hear. The machines worked almost silently and the dead had nothing to say.

Just after the end of the first hour, Dr. Klein returned. She handed Pam a steaming mug of coffee and asked her if she would like her to fetch a sweater. “I might be able to find something that would fit you.” Of course, her look suggested that anything that draped her own slim figure would fit much too snugly for Pam’s sturdier frame. In the midst of all of this, Dr. Klein is still incurably vain.

Pam shook her head, “I’m alright.” She managed a thin smile. “I grew up on a farm in Iowa, you know. A little cold wakes me up. I do appreciate the coffee though.” She took a small appreciative sip. One thing she liked about her job was that Dr. Klein invested in good coffee and an expensive coffee maker. “This is great brew, Dr. Klein. I think it could wake the dead by itself if we could just get them to drink it.”

Dr. Klein smiled, though her expression did not seem to reach all the way to her eyes. Pamela suppressed a sigh as she realized the worst thing about this job was not the silent stiffs in their individual freezers, but the cold and creepy personality of her boss. Even the gesture of bringing Pam coffee seemed condescending, like Dr. Klein took a moment to pantomime what actions she believed thoughtful people would perform. But like her occasional smiles, the sentiment never seemed to come from deep down.

Pam suppressed a chill even as she tried to understand what her instincts were telling her about this woman. She reminded herself that Dr. Klein’s earlier work with the virus blocking proteins had certainly saved millions of lives. That should earn her a break, right? A great woman like that did not have to be likable to be appreciated. But it was still hard for the young woman to balance that sterling reputation with what she knew of the cold and condescending person who signed her paychecks. Pam wondered if the doctor had always been this way. Maybe when she had been a young and beautiful scientist on the verge of fame she had also been pleasant.

Then the young engineer, Enrico, entered the room. In the past, Enrico Sanchez’s dark eyes and carefully trimmed mustache had always reminded Pam of some handsome and tragic silent movie actor she had read about on the Internet after attending a campus festival that featured old films.

But now that Pamela knew he had passed on her chatty comments to Dr. Klein, she felt uneasy instead of attracted. He had looked so handsome to Pamela before, but now his features just appeared artificial and rubbery. His features were even, true, but Pam noticed that the pores on his nose were rather large. His dark mustache looked too even, like it was a fake one that had been pasted on. She suppressed a sudden grin at the thought. She tried to cheer herself up by imagining Enrico with different types of pasted on mustaches and beards.

He barely nodded at Pamela but smiled openly when he turned towards Dr. Klein. The older woman smiled back and something in her suddenly open body language reminded Pam of her earlier sense of unease. They’re a pair. The realization that Dr. Klein and Enrico Sanchez were probably already lovers abruptly shoved its way into her consciousness. I’m a fool. It was a sudden and shocking thought. Dr. Klein had to be thirty years older than either Enrico or Pamela. But as Pam mulled the possibility, she instinctively knew it was true. Dr. Klein had a young lover, and it was the same person Pam thought was attracted to her! Then she shrugged. I must be losing my instincts.

Pam forced herself to settle down. The pair had every right to love whom they pleased.

“I have the recovery room almost prepared,” Enrico said to Dr. Klein. “The technicians can complete the rest. Should we move the capsules now, Doctor?”

“We still have a few hours to wait,” she said. “After all, even I can’t be a hundred percent certain this will work. It’s important to take each step in the right order. That way I can document all my results to determine if anything about our process caused a failure.”

“Hmm,” Enrico said. “Well, if you have a bit of free time I have some new designs I would like you to review.” He shot Pam a quick and condescending look. “If you think Pam here can handle her station, that is, I really do have an urgent need for your attention.”

He kept his eyes on Pam for a moment. As she met his eyes, she was sure his thin smile communicated triumph. Then he glanced back at Dr. Klein, and his oily features seemed to transform themselves instantly. He looked at the doctor with an expression that approached adoration. Pam quickly looked down to focus on her work station to hide her distress. She was glad he had attached herself to Dr. Klein because she certainly had no use for him now.

“I think I can be spared,” Dr. Klein said. “There’s nothing particularly difficult to attend to at the moment.” Pamela stared at her monitor, but she could hardly tune out the conversation. If they weren’t trying to speak in code for arranging a little work break for hanky panky, I must have hatched from an egg yesterday.

Dr. Klein turned to Pamela. Her tone was simply stern and businesslike. “Just send a text message if anything minor happens. If you think it is urgent, call me. Please, try to handle any routine matters yourself if you can.”

“Sure,” Pamela said, glancing up at her boss. The arrogant smile told her that her boss knew that Pam had suddenly guessed at her relationship with the young engineer. Everyone had always told Pam she was too transparent.

The situation deteriorated rapidly and Pamela finally firmly decided against showing up for work the next day. She would simply leave her resignation in a text message later tonight after she had shared a glass of wine and a good rant with some of her friends. Hopefully the company would still send her final payment, and she could be off attending to business somewhere else. Pam started wondering if there were any friends or relatives she could tap for money. As a last resort the university’s financial aid office would certainly find her an on-campus job or a loan.

The younger woman tried to keep herself from biting her lip as she said, “I will do my best. I believe I understand your instructions and can handle my station.” Though Pam attempted to keep her tone neutral, she was sure her facial expression betrayed her discomfort.

“Of course you can,” Enrico said pleasantly. Suddenly Pamela forgot why she had ever found him attractive. Instead of looking handsome, his features simply struck her as oily and plastic. He suddenly reminded Pam more of an old science fiction TV show monster who could change faces at will than a romantic leading man. He’s as creepy as Dr. Klein. They belong together.

Enrico gazed meaningfully back at Dr. Klein, Pamela actually thought he looked at the much older woman with the soft expression of a man in love, but there was oiliness about his manner then as well. Just a day ago, she would have sworn he had looked at her with the same deep interest. Feeling foolish, she turned back to her monitor and pantomimed the actions of somebody who was very interested in taking detailed notes.

The pair left, obviously absorbed in each other, and perhaps a little giddy over lording their relationship and power over Pam. Narcissists need an audience. Not for the first time that day, Pamela considered getting up from her chair, replacing the lab coats, and leaving the premises. She could not remember the last time she had felt so discomfited by other people.

But she had been raised with a solid Midwestern work ethic. Some petty squabble, or even a troublesome co-worker, did not excuse getting up and leaving her responsibilities in the middle of the day. Plus, I’ve got a lot of bills to pay. So far, Dr. Klein had, at least, helped her pay her bills with this job.

Let me just get through today, and I can think tonight. I can get paid for this month’s work and worry about next month’s work next week. A moment ago, she had been determined to quit. Now she wasn’t sure. Exhausted by her cognitive dissonance, Pam decided to focus on her work for the moment and put off her decision until later.

As time passed, the cylinder temperature started to rise noticeably. Warming threads in the face plate kept them from frosting so the faces could always be viewed. However a strip of the same study transparent material that ran around the actual body was always frosted over. Pam noted that the condensation was clearing and she could begin to see vague outlines of the bodies. Her scientific curiosity overrode her angst as she peered at the capsules.

As the two cylinders warmed, Pam felt as if the room warmed a bit too. But there were still six more frozen capsules, so she figured that had to be her imagination. She wondered if her clammy palms and suddenly dry throat were simply caused by nerves. Very little had actually happened this morning, but it had already started out to be a day of revelations.

She found herself studying the warming subjects in the capsules. Mrs. Bell seemed built like Pamela, with a sturdy frame and athletic limbs. Mr. Barnes was tall and long limbed. He looked like one of those lanky, but deceptively strong farmer’s sons she had known growing up. They still floated silently in a bath of some complex chemical solution. Before it had been clear, but now it was tinged with a rose shade that seemed to sparkle as it caught the light.

As far as Pam could tell the bodies remained perfectly still. She never expected them to do anything else. But something bothered her. There was a difference in the appearance of Mrs. Bell and Mr. Barnes but Pam could not immediately describe it. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light caused by the slightly different shade of the new solution.

Apparently the new solution contained, among other things, enough liquid oxygen so a live person could actually “breath” in it. Dr. Klein assured her that she had tested it on herself and dozens of other volunteers. Pamela tried to imagine forcing herself to breath in liquid even if she been assured it was perfectly harmless. According to Future Faith Cryonics brochures, the bodies should not degrade more than one percent every hundred years.

Pamela remembered that she had originally read that in the company literature and asked herself, “Who cares? They are still just bodies.”

Pam considered herself a spiritual if not particularly religious person. Souls passed on but bodies stayed put. That’s how she could work on cadavers without squeamishness or moral qualms. To Pam they were just remains, like waste, left behind after that which formed the core of an individual had been released. Whatever happened to souls was a question for priests, ministers, rabbis, or mystics, but not scientists. Then her mind wandered. Even if Dr. Klein could wake the dead, what part of their souls would remain to inhabit them?

But then she shook her head and tried to get back to the business she was being well paid to perform. Dr. Klein had made her duties quite clear. She didn’t pay Pam to judge, but just to monitor. Pamela made notes of the monitor readings and her observations. After several minutes, she tired of making notes and stood up to view the bodies from a closer angle.

She stared down at Mrs. Bell first. The woman’s features appeared pale, but lifelike. Pamela figured that she had already had some work done to improve the line of her jaw and reduce wrinkles. Her records indicated that Mrs. Bell had been forty-eight when she had met her tragic end. She looked like an athletic thirty year old taking a nap.

Mr. Barnes’s face looked worn and craggy, like he had spent a lot of time outside. He had a nice strong jaw, pronounced cheekbones, and a proud nose, but Pamela did not find him particularly handsome. She judged it a good, homely face, like Abraham Lincoln’s.

She squinted as she studied him, and she almost thought that there was a bit of a flush on his cheeks. Startled, she looked more closely, but then dismissed it as a trick of the light.

Pam glanced back at Mrs. Bell one more time. Both bodies were very pale. But now she felt sure that the woman’s cheeks were slightly tinged with pink. Perhaps it’s a chemical reaction from the new serum. Maybe it’s just a trick of the light.

She was about to turn back to make a note on her tablet computer. The frozen woman’s full lips parted slightly. Pamela had never seen any of the bodies move at all before, and she took an involuntary step back, startled for real this time. As she stared, the lips almost seemed to quiver. Then one eyelid popped open to reveal a striking blue eye. Pam forced herself away from Mrs. Bell’s capsule to examine Mr. Barnes again. His lips had parted slightly too. Both of his eyes remained closed.

“It’s got to be a change in pressure from the temporary tank,” Pamela muttered to herself as she hunched over the narrow desk and made a quick note. The last thing she wanted to do, right now, was to contact Dr. Klein sounding like a hysterical teenager.

She had just convinced herself that everything she saw had some simple and natural explanation when she stood up to view the bodies again. Clearly, through the transparent strip along the side, she saw Mrs. Bell’s fingers move. Pam swallowed down a gasp and decided it was time to pick up her cell phone. If it was just a change in pressure, her whole arm would move, right?

She tried to put a call through to Dr. Klein but there was no answer. Then she sat down to compose a text message. As she glanced up, she saw a thin stream of bubbles near the heads of both bodies. They can’t be breathing. She looked back at her phone. What do I say?