Paradigm Shift

Chapter 2

An old woman from the space exploration era peaked through the window to find a young man in her airlock system.

"Come in, come in—" she said as she unlocked the door; the air hissing as Taylor stepped through.

"Mrs. Ila—"

"Yes?" Taylor stripped from his suit and laid his oxygen tank by the door. The old woman grunted as she collapsed into her plastic chair and motioned him to sit at the other end of the round table. The house was small—they all were—with the kitchen and bedroom connected and a tunnel running to the lavatory.

Taylor shook his head disparagingly, "I'm sorry to inform you, but the pod you lent me was destroyed in a storm just the other day."

Mrs. Ila didn't speak—she didn't move—all she did was smile along with her wrinkling skin, "It's okay, boy, nothing ever lasts." She motioned to the papers he was holding. "What might that be?" Taylor explained that a man threatened war will break out. Mrs. Ila sighed.

"Mr. Watson used to be a war general to the Martians, but everything went kaboom when the Martian leader was shot cold blood in the streets of Tokyo. Ever since then, no one heard of him again—he was considered a legend because of what he did in the past: he was a military leader for the Martians, and when they raged war against each other, Watson was the general commander of the victorious side. But, in wars, nobody wins, so after the death of leader Charlie Sabot, Watson was last seen in Tokyo—and that was all. Now, it appears the Martian government is threatening Japan to give up the infamous Watson, or else they will insight a war."

Taylor leaned in, "I know a bit of Martian myself, Ila—and I heard something about Titan being involved with the war—"

"—it's true." She nodded her head, "Titan does heavily rely on Tokyo's resources—and the United States—the war with Japan will inadvertently starve us. . .Taylor why are you so interested?"

He explained how he was attacked at the outpost. . .In his hands, a crisp letter contained the powerful information to destroy his world. What Taylor needed to do was to find Mr. Watson before Titan was dragged into a war—he immediately thought of Mrs. Jacob's family. 

"Is there anyway to get to Tokyo from Titan?" Taylor asked Mrs. Ila.

"Take a flight from Central City—" she lifted her finger from her crossed arms, pointing in no particular direction, "Taylor, I hope you aren't doing what I think you're going to do. . ."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Ila," Taylor got up from his chair, moving to the door, "I have no where else to go: my home was destroyed. I hear Tokyo is beautiful during the winter time." He put on his oxygen mask and headed out the door.

—-

Samuel Taylor managed to buy himself a one-way ticket to Central City on a hyper-speed railway, and in a matter of hours, arrived at the entrance to the main building. Officers in deep-red suits documented every person entering and leaving (however, the only people at the border only wanted in).

"Next—" The man shouted over the speakers. Red covered the metal platform in a thin layer of dust, and as the train left the station, it hissed, creating a huge plume of silt. "Next! I said next!" Taylor hurried into the airlock where he was cleaned of dust. "Please state the nature of your business." He hastily took off his mask and fumbled for his papers. At the counter, a serious, middle-aged man with wrinkles indenting his forehead sat overlooking documents.

"Uh, travel—" Taylor handed the man his documents.

"—date of birth" The tired old man cut him off as he checked Taylor's passport.

"Twenty-seventh of August, twenty-sixty three."

When the man finished overlooking Taylor's documents, he waved him on, calling for the next person in line. The next station was directly connected to a small tram, so there wasn't any need for an oxygen tank, but Taylor carried it anyway as he walked down the small corridor. People of all ages and races equally looked bewildered at the funny man walking by.

He finally sat down and looked out the window as more people filled in: tall, erect buildings surfaced the dark, dirtied cement, and cars of sorts flew high in the sky. The city was relatively free of dust—except for those occasional dust storms—so most people had healthy lungs. The cloud covering in the city was worse than in the outer sectors, so light from the pink and blue, red and neon yellow luminescent buildings reflected in the dark glass windows, and the sky was a darkened brown. Taylor realized that yes, living in the city was a privilege, but how much so if they never knew what natural light looked like.

The ticket to Earth crisply bounced between Taylor's finger tips as he sat patiently waiting for his flight at the gate. The lobby was packed with multiple families, and businessmen and women, and everyday rich people on vacation—he realized the only reason he had a ticket is because he sold his beat up technology. His flight was mainly for traveling to Earth which would take two years, so Taylor decided to book a cryogenic tank and wait out the journey.

There were many forms and contracts he had to sign all labeling the danger of cryogenically sleeping. Your cells could burst, your heart could stop, permanent brain damage, paralysis, possible poisoning from the freeze-tolerant drug. There were many warnings about the freeze-tolerant drug too all listed in the fine print.

Taylor signed anyways.

—-

He was drowning—they all were drowning in the gelatinous liquid that filled their lungs. Taylor was the first to wake up in his cabin other than the Captain and flight attendants. One devilishly handsome man helped him as he puked up the green, thick liquid and situated him with a blanket and hot tea. Next to him, Taylor watched as more people began waking up, wishing everyone a happy new year. However, New Years was two months ago on the dot. Everyone was awake now, except for one man next to Taylor's cryogenic tube.

White, bland strips hung low under the black countertops, illuminating the walls in halos of neon light—the sinks in the bathroom a pristine black plastic, smoothly etched into the fake, midnight marble wall.

As Taylor washed up, he looked at himself in the mirror to notice a small black dot on the side of his forehead.

"Yep, I've traveled in cryostasis too many times for I have gotten cancer—" a man next to him, quite young and full of life muttered next to him, breaking the silence "—the thing about freezing your body is that you can literally time travel. But, there is always a cost to 'outsmarting God' because there is no such thing as defying Mother Nature." He smiled as he continued to stare at his own reflection, drying his hands with a towel. The young man explained how he had traveled thirteen years into the future because of cryostasis, putting fear into Taylor of the possibility of cancerous cells.

"One thing's for sure: you can't live forever." The man's words continued to echo in Taylor's mind for the rest of his life.

After meeting with the doctor on board before landing, Taylor was relieved to find it was just a small patch of cells that wasn't affected by the anti-freeze drug. Upon landing, a gurney was escorted out carrying a man—rumor had it that because the cryogenic tube didn't fully activate, the man starved to death; to think Taylor was so close to being that lifeless body carried out by technicians.