None of the mechanics that left the Cryo-Chamber did so much as look at me when I passed them in the long corridor. I was reminded that for many on Project Dawn, I was but another job, and the small group of people with an emotional attachment to me are possibly the only friends I had left.

Entering the chamber, I got my first look at the new Cryo-Tube. Installed on a raised platform, the new tube – well, more of a box then – looked much more similar to a science fiction machine than the bulky metal monster before. The cumbersome tanks of preservation liquid remained around it, but the main part that housed me had been replaced with a sleek, metallic, rectangular container with a half cylinder glass door.

I instantly recognized Doctor Parker as he was the only blond in the room. He stood by one of the control panels with what looked to be an ECG monitor. His hair had also grown out into a ponytail which I thought was kind of an untidy hairstyle for a doctor but perfect for a slightly arrogant hippy.

“This is more like it,” I said as I approached him. “Now it's starting to look sci-fi.”

The doctor looked up from his work and, in a completely unfamiliar fashion, smiled at my presence. “Yeah. No more climbing up and down for you.”

“I'm sorry about earlier,” I blurted out.

“For what?”

“For not forgiving you.”

Parker nodded solemnly and turned his sights to the machine in the middle of the room. “I started talking with the professor and G after that day. They told me the little things about you that I never thought to look into myself.” He pulled up a chair and sat down. I leaned against the console and listened to his story. “That's the thing about being a doctor. When I worked at the ER for my internship, I saw so many patients that they just become a number to you. A job. I numbed myself and forgot that they were human as well.”

Unsure of how to reply, or even if I should, the better part of my social abilities, which there wasn't a lot left of, redirected the conversation. “What's new with the Cryo-Tube?”

Jumping on the bandwagon away from the awkward topic, Parker explained, “Well, as you can see, we have a door now so all you have to do is step into it. And we can monitor your physical status by sight as well.” The doctor got up and headed to the machine. I followed. Knocking on the glass door, he explained, “High density magnesium aluminate spinel. One of the hardest transparent ceramics we have. It'll help keep in the pressure when we fill up the liquid while giving us visuals of you.”

“I don't know. That's kind of weird you know, you guys watching me as I sleep.”

“It beats us not knowing your physical condition. At least this way, we won't just rely on the ECG. We'll be able to use other methods to help preserve you better.” I found it weird speaking of myself as an experiment, but figured the term was required for them to properly do their jobs. Too much emotional investment can sometimes lead to bad decisions, no matter what the doctor thought of professional stoicity.

I leaned into the glass. Well, the doctor called it a spinel-ceramic-something but I'm a layman and if it's hard and transparent, it's glass. On the other side, I can see the enclosed space as just slightly smaller than the previous metal one. The floor was a metal grate, probably to drain out the liquid. There were about half a dozen of what looked to be medical instruments – from tubes to plastic suction cups – placed on the white interior wall, including an oxygen mask. A shoulder harness was connected to the ceiling and left dangling in the middle.

Parker continued the explanation. “The holes in the walls are used to better regulate the liquid,” sure enough, there were four holes that wrapped the wall at waist height. “With that, we can control how active your body is. We can adjust the pressure and the amount of the liquid, basically letting your body 'exercise' in a way. Keeps your body healthier and active. Lot's of sciency medical stuff you won't understand.”

I felt a pang from his last sentence, a slimmer of his arrogant personality surfacing for a brief second. However, he wasn't wrong in that I had no idea how any of the stuff he said was supposed to work.

Stepping away from the glass, I asked, “So do I need to go change into that stupid pyjamas now?”

“Oh, right. You don't have to do that anymore either. We've got a new system that will rinse, disinfect, and warm your body dry before you even wake.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah!” he announced proudly. “I'd dare say our engineering team has outdone themselves with this new design.”

“That's pretty convenient,” I said. “What about G? Is he here yet?”

“He should be on his way down. You want me to hook you up while we wait? I'm sure you two have a lot to talk about.”

Without reasons to do otherwise, I agreed. With a shout to one of the other lab hands, we stepped back and watched as the Cryo-Tube de-pressurized with puffs and hisses. As the gears of the machine clicked and chugged into place and movement, the glass door began retracting into the walls.

Parker instructed me to, “Step in and strap on,” to the harness, but with my shoes being the sole exception to the clothings I was allowed to wear. I did as I was told.

The shoulder harness hung by an tensioned rope that extended to my height when I pulled. I slipped into it and felt slightly lighter as my body weight lessened with the stretch. The doctor squeezed in after me and began to fit the instruments from the walls onto different parts of my body. A wired ECG was attached to my chest in favour of the wireless ones from before, and a few sensor patches were stuck onto the back of both my hands and my forehead. I felt like I was being connected to a computer where I would become its brain.

“Alright, we're done,” Parker finished, stepping out of the Cryo-Tube just as G came into view. “I guess I'll leave you two to your talking.” The doctor greeted the agent and turned back to me with a, “See you next time.” And walked out of sight past the walls of the machine.

G stepped into his place and asked me, “How does it feel in there?”

I looked around, getting a sense for the space. “It feels bigger. Guess it's the colour. They say white makes things look larger you know.”

“That's why I don't wear white. Don't want people thinking I'm fat.” He laughed at himself and I smiled.

I said, “Congratulations by the way.”

Looking me in the eye, I saw a gleam of apologies in G, even as he said, “Thanks.”

From inside my round enclosure, the world outside looked indescribably larger than I knew it to actually be. I felt isolated, and knew that in just a few minutes, I would be frozen, suspended in animation while the world around me moved forward with its life. And part of the life would include Joan's marriage to Agent Golph.

The mood turned serious, as if we were about to host a ceremony to past on some sacred mission. In a way, that was true. “You know G, I don't even know your first name.”

When the realization hit the agent, he grinned broadly and chuckled at the revelation. “You're right. I can't believe we've went ten years without you knowing my name.” He let out a sigh. “It's Randolf. Randolf Golph.”

“Well Randolf, you take care of her.” I smiled. Though I had made peace with their engagement, I could still feel emotions welling up within me and was sure I would cry if I physically could. “Give her a good life.”

“I will,” G nodded in reply.

“And don't let her work to hard.”

“Gotcha.”

“She's not young anymore,” I informed him. “Make the rest of her life a good one.”

I could see the shine of waters welling up in the agent's agreeing stare. He continued to nod at my instructions and let out an audible sniff as he held back his tears.

“And take care of Leila. Don't let her date anybody without vetting them through The Forum's criminal database. Make sure you take her to Hillbury when it snows. She may say she doesn't like it anymore but that's a lie.” The words poured out of my mouth as the realization that I was passing on everything I cared about into the hands of a man I've only known for three days dawned on me. “And bring Joan to Tikika for your honeymoon. She loves it there. And please, for all's sake, don't-”

G stepped into the Cryo-Tube and embraced me, no longer able to hold back his tears. He sobbed quietly as he confessed, “I'm sorry for replacing you.”

Limply, I lifted my right arm around him and patted him on the back. “Thank you. For replacing me.”

After a minute, he finally managed to get his crying under control and stepped away from me and out of the Cryo-Tube. “See you,” he said with reddened eyes.

Taking the oxygen mask off the wall, I placed it over my nose and mouth and it automatically sealed itself against my skin. I nodded back at the agent, “Be happy for me. Do what I can't.”

G looked to the side and with a thumbs up directed outside my view, the glass door slowly closed, shutting me inside the soundless box. This time though, I could see the outside, just as much as they could see me. I watched as G walked away from me and towards one of the consoles to begin his work. Doctor Parker rushed to another panel to monitor my vitals. Two friends. I found that a much better viewership for my freezing than the day before. I could only hope that better scenes laid in the years ahead.

A puff of white mist shot out from the holes in the walls. They smelled of disinfectant and old folks home. The rope of the harness retracted into the ceiling, lifting me off my feet. I dangled in the air as clear water poured out from the gaps in the wall, probably to wash me off before freezing. In seconds, I was completely submerged in water. It was then that I found out that not only could I see clearly underwater due to my implanted camera eyes, but that my mechanical legs were heavy enough to prevent me from floating.

I mused, Guess I can't swim any more. On the other hand, I'd be great at diving. Internally, I laughed at that insight.

The experience of being frozen was different with sight. For one thing, there's actually a memory to show for it instead of instant darkness and immediate dawn. I could see the blue cooling liquid being released into the water and watched as it mixed and misted, snaking it's way around the currents as it slowly surrounded me.

My vision blurred as the clear liquid was replaced by the murky blue, yet I kept watching until I could no longer stand the mind twirling sight of the dancing liquid and closed my eyes. When it felt like the dizziness was gone, I reopened them to find myself hanging in an empty Cryo-Tube, bathed in an orange light that I assumed was warmed. As promised by Parker, my clothes were dried and on the other side of the glass door stood Joan.

Despite knowing full well that my voice would not reach her through the soundproof glass, I asked, “How long?”

But she got my question anyway, as I knew she would. She held up her hands and extended all five digits and I knew immediately why I was awoken.

It was my daughter's graduation.