chapter fourteen: in deep

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"The problem with our technology​," Dr. Terrance explains, "is that our cells are full of water, and when you freeze water it expands and creates crystals, and that bursts the cell membrane. So once we would be thawed out, we kind of just turn into mush." He chuckles, turns around to see me walking behind him. "Doesn't sound appealing, does it?"
I shake my head. "Nope. What did you do to fix it?"
"We replace blood with an anti-freeze liquid," he says casually, like there's no big deal in draining all my blood. "It stops harmful ice crystals from forming. Works pretty well."
"Um..." I've just thought of something. "How about Subjects 1, 2, 3, and 5? Did they volunteer to be frozen?"
"Mmm... They considered. The one girl who wanted to didn't have parental consent." He dismisses that, points into a nearby room. "This will be where we get you set up, before we take you into the operating room. You can go ahead and get settled, because you'll be monitored there for a while. We're gonna double check that you're eligible."
"Eligible to be frozen?" I head in. It's similar to a normal hospital room, but a little less medical and a little more science. I sit on the edge of the bed, and it squeaks.
"Yep. I'll explain the process, and then I'll send Peyton in." He sits down, referring to his clipboard. "First, the subject is cooled in an ice bath. Then they'll replace the blood with the antifreeze, and pack the body in ice." He glances at me, and I nod for him to go on.
He continues. "It's then transferred to another sector, put into an arctic sleeping bag, and cooled with nitrogen gas to negative 110 degrees Celsius. It's frozen until it hits negative 196 Celsius, then put in liquid nitrogen and taken to the patient care bay. That all good?"
I nod. He leaves, and I fidget. I wonder where Hayden is. I wonder if Symon will actually call my parents.
I wonder what my parents will do when they find out what I did.
I ask myself if I am ready for this. I ask myself again, then twice more.
Every time, the answer is the same.
Yes.
Dr. Peyton appears. He's young and seems extremely friendly. "Hey, Reid! You're our first subject."
"So I hear," I say, gripping the edge of the bed with cold fingers. "A pioneer in the world of cryonics, they tell me."
"They are right," Dr. Peyton says. "You excited?" He pauses, gestures to my bandaged arm. "You hurt yourself?"
"Someone hurt me," I correct.
"Oh no! That's awful, I'm sorry. One of the good things about cryonics, though, we'll fix that and when you wake up it'll be gone." He checks the clipboard. "Broken elbow, right?"
I nod again, so he starts turning on wires and monitors. "You want to scoot back so your back's to the wall?" he asks. "Then I can hook you up."
I obey, and he's brought an IV bag, which he hangs and hooks up. Then he takes my arm, ties a rubber band, slides the needle into my inner elbow. It's all done in less than a minute, and he seems very efficient. He asks me to take off my shirt so he can hook electrodes to my chest, and I just sit still and think.
It's too late to back out now.
"It's not too late to back out," Dr. Peyton tells me, as if he's read my mind and disagreed. "I can take all this off now. Are you sure you want to do this?"
I flash back to handing over the forged signatures of my parents with consent for me to become an ice cube once again. I flash back to Dr. Terrance's words for the millionth time. They come back to me, eerie, almost haunting.
You wouldn't miss much.
Not with my broken life, I wouldn't. Ever since I heard about this opportunity, everything has gone wrong.
Which is strange, a little.
But I don't care.
I want to do this.
Right?
Dr. Peyton finishes setting up, and then he pumps something into the IV. "This is gonna make you sleepy," he says. "So I want you to count to ten, and then you'll be out."
"One," I say, taking a deep breath. "Two." My voice sounds funny, and my head feels stuffed with plush toys.
"Three. Four."
I am starting to panic. Fear is rising inside me, clawing at my throat.
"Five," I mumble, scared because normally I'm out at three. "What if I don't fall asleep?" I slur the words.
"You will," Dr. Peyton reassures me. "I promise it'll be okay."
"Six," I say, and the world falls away.

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