At first, they struggled to hook up the ECG pads and the other medical instruments to me. That was until I told them to forget it, since there would not be any doctors left to watch over my progress.

“Alright,” John said. “Just give us a moment then to figure out how this stupid software works.”

I stepped back out of the Cryo-Tube. Clover and Amelia stood on opposite end of the room, minding their own businesses as far from each other as possible.

Lindsey approached me, and apparently, sensing something bothering me, asked, “What's wrong?”

I nudged my head at Clover and Amelia. “Those two. I don't know. Some sort of tension between them.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Intense. I know.”

“No, what I mean is that it's about to be your last few hours alive and you can still think of other people? That's kind of amazing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

I said, “I'm just weird I guess.” She nodded, though in the darkness, I could not tell if it was as an agreement to my statement, or a nod of approval of my actions. “Listen, could you go talk to Clover for me? See if you can get her to go easy on Amelia?”

She raised her brow quizzically. “You want me to give life advice? How old do you think I am?”

“Um...” I realized that Lindsey had been such a mature minded woman that I had not thought of her age as anything but that. After all, she was able to forgive me for her brother's death, or at the very least, not blame me for it. “Thirty?” I shot randomly.

“I'm twenty-five!” she waited with bated breaths as I struggled to find a reply that couldn't be interpreted as an insult. When she realized that wasn't happening anytime soon, she shook her head disappointingly. “Fine, I'll go talk to her. You just get yourself ready to go under.” She turned away.

“Wait!” I stopped her. From my pocket, I retrieved her brother's watch. “You should have this,” I said, holding it out.

She stopped in her tracks, bit her lower lips in thought, then held out her hands. Not to take the watch though, but to close my hand around it and pushing the gesture away. “Keep it. Remember where you've been. Remember all those that helped you.” Before I could reply, she walked away.

I muttered, “Thanks,” under my breath. She was indeed a woman beyond her years.

As if having read my mind, Amelia came walking up to me. Trying to act calm and cool, I leaned my hand against the Cryo-Tube, no doubt looking like a cheesy movie hero, minus the sunglasses, famously toned body, or anything that might give a view of pleasure. So more like a creepy man at the bus station actually, selling candies to kids.

She asked, “You ready?”

“Not yet,” I replied. If there's one thing I've learned over the last two days was that the best way to deal with hard-headed people like my granddaughter was to be as direct as possible. I had Jason and Clover to thank for that epiphany. “Still have to settle this whole thing with you and Clover.”

“Settle this whole thing?” she scoffed. “What are you? My father?”

“Grandfather,” I corrected.

“Old man,” she insisted.

I let out a sigh, “Listen kid, you're going to lose a lot of people in life. And it's not often you get a second chance with them.” I nudged my head over in the direction of Clover, who surprisingly, seemed to be having a calm discussion with Lindsey instead of the heated one I had expected of her. “Don't let her slip out of your grasp just because of pride.”

Amelia folded her arms and pouted, “You've had a few second chances over the years.”

There was something about Amelia that reminded me of Leila. A mix of her stubbornness, inability to express her feelings, and still be empathic of others. I told her, “Every one of those days I hold close and dear. Every day I get to spend with all of you is a blessing, followed by years of curses,” Leila had grown up without me. Amelia and John had grown up without me. My wife grew old without me. Solemnly, I said, “I missed a lot too. So take it from me, take all that you can, while you can.”

She looked to her feet as if in thought. When I tried to continue, she waved me off and went towards Clover. I do not know if I got through to her, but she did not curse or swear at me or anything, so that's a plus.

From the main console, John exclaimed, “Milton!” I turned to him. “We're ready for you.”

Somewhere inside me, confidence welled. I did not know where it came from or what it was for, but I fearlessly turned my back from the room and stepped into the old Cryo-Tube and strapped myself in. The group of four gathered around at the main console in front of me. Despite only being lit by a single lamp and their respective torches, the four of them looked clear as day to my eyes.

I smiled at them and shouted happily, “Happy endings!” Before strapping on the oxygen mask.

They looked confused for a moment, before breaking into slight chuckles. John gave me a thumbs up. Amelia stuck her tongue out. Lindsey and Clover waved me goodbye. I waved back as John flipped a switch and the glass door closed before me. The familiar blue liquid slowly filled the chamber.

Amelia ran up to me, squishing her nose against the long since misted glass. She shouted, her voice a clear whisper, “See you later, gramps!”

Before the water completely filled me, I strapped Borris's watch onto my wrist. Finally, I smiled, closed my eyes and muttered, “Happy endings...”

A beeping noise started next to my ears, but sounding distant and muffled, as if I was listening to the beep of a sonar from underwater. Then I realized I couldn't breathe. At first, I was baffled by how I was able to tell that I had no air in my lungs, and it was only after a few seconds that I realized that they were burning in pain. The joint which my robotic arm was connected to was also shouting for me cut it off. I was drowning.

Do something! I screamed to my body. Or I'm going to die!

Somehow, through the pain and confusion, I managed to raise my legs to the glass door. I pushed against it, leaning into the back of the liquid filled chamber. Even underwater, I could hear the grinding of the gears in my legs as I pushed the limbs to their limits. But despite my efforts, I was losing consciousness, this time I feared a more permanent sleep.

Is this it? I travel decades to die by drowning?

Something at my feet gave way. I could feel it. I could physically feel it. The slight jerk as the glass door shifted forward. The cool liquid wrapping my body. The burning ache in my shoulder. The continued ripping of my chest as the last of the oxygen left my body.

The glass door broke and the liquid gushed out of the machine, leaving me dangling by the harness. But I still could not breathe, and I struggled to catch my breath. I must have opened my eyes at some point but I could not be sure, for no matter how hard I looked, my vision was completely dark. I couldn't see what was causing my suffocation. I took my hand to the oxygen mask and ripped it away from my face, the pulling of the adhesive felt like the tearing of a band-aid. Air flooded back into my lungs, invading like college boys at a strip club, tearing a path through my already pained lungs. The violent inhale forced me to cough uncontrollably and I spat and drooled as-and-how my body wanted for comfort.

As my body got itself back under control, I looked around the room as my camera-eyes adjusted to the darkness. The faint, blood-red glow from the Cryo-Tube gave them just enough light to shutter in an image. It was not that I was blinded or my eyes had failed, but the room was shrouded in complete darkness.

I coughed out, “Amelia? John?” To no reply.

Despite the situation, I was more worried about the pain in my shoulder. Though slightly glad to have the sense of touch back, the sudden return and the continued ache was troubling. Good things never came without bad consequences.

I unbuckled myself from the machine, revelling in the stretching of my muscles as I did so. There was an itch on my nose. I scratched it. I groaned with an almost primal pleasure. Then I stopped when I realized how much my voice echoed. How loud the silence was ringing in my ear. I turned to the digital clock embedded on the Cryo-Tube. 61 years had passed, but still 20 years too early for me to wake up.

“This is a joke,” I said out loud. “It has to be,” not just because I was dangerously early to be spending my final days, but also because I was finally able to feel again, yet there was not a single soul around me to hold.

The main console, where John and gang stood just moments ago, was empty. But a single red light blinked at me. I thought at first my eyes were just malfunctioning, but upon closer inspection, there was indeed a light blinking on the console above a big red button.

Entire body still soaked wet, the room keeping itself at a temperature that cooled, I approached the console and stood with my hand above the button. “Only good things happen when red buttons are pushed,” I reasoned against reason and pressed it.

The computer screen embedded next to it flickered alight. Booting, loading, colour slowly filled. The words:

VOICE RECOGNITION

Printed across the screen.

“Milton Jones,” I announced.

CONFIRMED

A bar began to load. Once it was filled, a familiar white room flashed into view. It was the chamber as it had been nearly fifty years ago. From off screen, a figure moved into the camera's line of sight and the face nearly brought me to tears.

I think she worked on you till the very end.

Professor Leah Leslie Hullway, with a her bright smile, signature yellow dress and lab coat, and a slightly greying blonde hair, looked into the camera and greeted, “Hello Milton. If you're hearing this, you're probably at the end of the world.” As if reading my mind, she continued, “You're also likely alone right now.”

With a bleep, the red light above the big red button turned green.

Leah continued, “I'm hoping that the light is still working by then. There should be a button beside this screen. Just press it and it will download a collection of videos to the internal hard drive of your eyes. It's just a little something we put together to make sure you're not alone at this last stage.” Another smile, one that pierced the gloom of the room. “Good luck Milton. We're with you.”