asked, concerned.
“It’s just hard to receive this news.”
“I know, princess, but we’ re here to help you. Your mother and sister are so excited to see you again. As for me, I’m happy to have you back.”
I frowned as I suddenly realized something. “What about my father?”
He looked down before replying gently, “I’m sorry to be the one to break this to you, but your father passed away five years ago.”
My eyes welled up with tears. Daddy was gone .
“He lived a long and happy life,” he said reassuringly.
“Oh, Michael…”
He caressed my cheek. “You know he loved you. He would have been as overjoyed as the rest of us to see you alive again.”
I nodded, still sniffing.
“Rest now, princess. Your family will be in later to see you. I have to meet with the doctor. I’ll be back soon.”
He kissed my hand before leaving the room. I stared blankly at the white wall facing the bed. After a few moments I turned to look out the window again. I now understood why the view had appeared strange earlier. There were two futuristic-looking skyscrapers to the far left of the White House dome that weren’t there before. I also noticed ultra modern vehicles speeding on newly paved roads that were now white instead of black. Everything seemed much more sleek and streamlined than I’d remembered.
I looked around the room aga in with a detailed eye. I noticed a tablet propped on the seat of a chair in the corner. The image on the screen contained a young blonde woman with one word above her head- Vogue. It was comforting to know the magazine was still “in print” (although not on traditional paper). I wanted to get off the bed and pick it up, but I couldn’t move.
The portly nurse came back into the room. “Mrs. Adams, is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable? Another pillow, perhaps?”
“M y mouth is dry. May I please have some water?”
The nurse s hook her head. “No, I’m sorry. The supplement we’re feeding you intravenously contains everything your body needs. It will be a few weeks before you can handle food or drink orally. It’s been a long time since your stomach had to do any work.”
I nodded in understanding.
Wanting to be accommodating, the nurse said, “I can let you rinse your mou th out with water, but you can’t swallow. How’s that?”
“That would be great, thanks.”
***
I slept for the better part of the next two days. Anne had come to visit once and the counseling session had been informative, but far from comforting. As my memories returned, I recalled the series of events that eventually led to my cryogenic encapsulation.
It all started before I was born, when the New York World Trade Center had been destroyed on September 11, 2001 by terrorists flying two commercial aircrafts into the Twin Towers. At least that’s what we were taught as children in history class. My parents raised me in Washington D.C. during the Age of Terror. Sadly, our country was engaged in a drawn-out war in the Middle East that spanned the entirety of my childhood and teenage years. In school we learned that the cause of the war was to combat terrorism. On the Internet I learned that the U.S. was fighting over crude oil and profitable military contracts. Environmentalists and intellectual progressives were constantly preaching against the use of damaging finite fossil fuels, and thus exposing the U.S. military’s shameless liaison with corrupt Wall Street banks and mega corporations (like Big Oil). So much carnage was being committee in the name of profit. Blood money .
Around the world the U.S. was being referred to as The Beast . And the common opinion was that The Beast had to be stopped; brought down to its knees. Destroy the U.S., save lives, save the planet became the motto of extremists everywhere. The terrorist attacks came in various forms. Even our allies were
“It’s just hard to receive this news.”
“I know, princess, but we’ re here to help you. Your mother and sister are so excited to see you again. As for me, I’m happy to have you back.”
I frowned as I suddenly realized something. “What about my father?”
He looked down before replying gently, “I’m sorry to be the one to break this to you, but your father passed away five years ago.”
My eyes welled up with tears. Daddy was gone .
“He lived a long and happy life,” he said reassuringly.
“Oh, Michael…”
He caressed my cheek. “You know he loved you. He would have been as overjoyed as the rest of us to see you alive again.”
I nodded, still sniffing.
“Rest now, princess. Your family will be in later to see you. I have to meet with the doctor. I’ll be back soon.”
He kissed my hand before leaving the room. I stared blankly at the white wall facing the bed. After a few moments I turned to look out the window again. I now understood why the view had appeared strange earlier. There were two futuristic-looking skyscrapers to the far left of the White House dome that weren’t there before. I also noticed ultra modern vehicles speeding on newly paved roads that were now white instead of black. Everything seemed much more sleek and streamlined than I’d remembered.
I looked around the room aga in with a detailed eye. I noticed a tablet propped on the seat of a chair in the corner. The image on the screen contained a young blonde woman with one word above her head- Vogue. It was comforting to know the magazine was still “in print” (although not on traditional paper). I wanted to get off the bed and pick it up, but I couldn’t move.
The portly nurse came back into the room. “Mrs. Adams, is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable? Another pillow, perhaps?”
“M y mouth is dry. May I please have some water?”
The nurse s hook her head. “No, I’m sorry. The supplement we’re feeding you intravenously contains everything your body needs. It will be a few weeks before you can handle food or drink orally. It’s been a long time since your stomach had to do any work.”
I nodded in understanding.
Wanting to be accommodating, the nurse said, “I can let you rinse your mou th out with water, but you can’t swallow. How’s that?”
“That would be great, thanks.”
***
I slept for the better part of the next two days. Anne had come to visit once and the counseling session had been informative, but far from comforting. As my memories returned, I recalled the series of events that eventually led to my cryogenic encapsulation.
It all started before I was born, when the New York World Trade Center had been destroyed on September 11, 2001 by terrorists flying two commercial aircrafts into the Twin Towers. At least that’s what we were taught as children in history class. My parents raised me in Washington D.C. during the Age of Terror. Sadly, our country was engaged in a drawn-out war in the Middle East that spanned the entirety of my childhood and teenage years. In school we learned that the cause of the war was to combat terrorism. On the Internet I learned that the U.S. was fighting over crude oil and profitable military contracts. Environmentalists and intellectual progressives were constantly preaching against the use of damaging finite fossil fuels, and thus exposing the U.S. military’s shameless liaison with corrupt Wall Street banks and mega corporations (like Big Oil). So much carnage was being committee in the name of profit. Blood money .
Around the world the U.S. was being referred to as The Beast . And the common opinion was that The Beast had to be stopped; brought down to its knees. Destroy the U.S., save lives, save the planet became the motto of extremists everywhere. The terrorist attacks came in various forms. Even our allies were
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