Chapter Text
A quiet hum filled the space. Eyes closed, he held onto no memories, his brain engulfed in a cosmic, dreamless sleep. Somewhere in space, he floated, a void surrounding the man. It was peaceful. He had no thoughts, no concerns, absolutely nothing to think about. Until suddenly, there was. He blinked open his eyes, the simple movement requiring a level of concentration and effort like nothing he had ever experienced. As though he had 50lb weights attached to each eye, but they demanded to be open.
“Good morning, Verity!” A cheerful feminine voice greeted him.
Verity blinked a few times, the weight and tunnel vision beginning to clear from his eyes. In front of him was the woman’s face, not more than six inches from his own. He opened his mouth to speak, but found the effort required to move his tongue to form words was tenfold the effort of simply blinking.
“Don’t worry, Verity. It’s normal to feel confused. You’ve just spent a hundred and twenty years in suspended animation.”
Verity tried to listen to what this woman was saying, he really did, but the fog surrounding his brain made it nearly impossible. All he could think about was the fact that his body was arguing with him that every ounce of his blood had been replaced with liquid lead. He felt so heavy, not to mention the lightheadedness that came with being forced to his feet. “A hundred and twenty years?” He grumbled, his voice sounding choked and weak. Naturally. Of course it would, if he hadn’t spoken in that long.
“You’re a passenger on the Starship Avalon,” the woman’s face in front of him dissolved into a view of a massive spacecraft. He couldn’t quite tell the scale. “We’ve nearly completed the 120-year flight from Earth to your new home - the colony world of Homestead II. Congratulations!”
“Homestead…” Verity muttered, the word feeling familiar on his lips. The external view of the spaceship became a cinematic slide show of photos, each one displaying various landscapes. Desert, lush forests with waterfalls, valleys of huge plains surrounded by mountains. “My new home…” He muttered, the thoughts returning to him gradually.
“The Avalon is on final approach,” the woman’s face reappeared momentarily, smiling at him. Verity knew it was just a hologram, and not an actual person, but he still felt like she was just too close. As if reading his thoughts, she disappeared once more, replaced by other images. “For the next four months, you’ll enjoy luxury space travel. Food, fun, new friends!” Restaurants, movies, even a water park was displayed in front of him.
Luxury… Verity was aboard an interstellar cruise ship! Still foggy, he couldn’t quite remember how he had gotten here, or who he was. That didn’t worry him. If he had really just been asleep for a hundred and twenty years, he was bound to feel a bit weird. Verity felt sure his memories would soon return. Hologram lady continued to speak in front of him.
“Then you’ll start your new life on Homestead II. Our beautiful new world, a fresh start. Room to grow.” Videos, certainly from Earth, began to play in front of him of farms, cities, and rows of single family homes. Excitement, or maybe anxiety, began to build in Verity’s chest. It spread from his heart to his stomach, the feeling of butterflies overwhelming him with nausea.
Verity let out a groan, clutching at his chest. As if the hologram lady had heard him, she returned to standing in front of him with a smile. “Take these, Verity,” a sound not dissimilar to cat food falling into an automatic feeder came from beside him. He looked down to find a handful of pills near his hand, a glass of juice beside them. “The capsules and juice will help your body to recover from hibernation. It’s normal to feel a bit sick and confused, but do not worry. It will pass.”
Finally released from the confines of his sleep capsule, Verity stood on his own two feet for the first time in over a century. He definitely felt like it, though, on some level, he imagined this was not the worst he could be feeling. He took the pills and drank the juice, the woman continuing to talk to him as he stumbled around. Disoriented, Verity finally realized that her voice was coming from a watch on his wrist, a small band that had a speaker. He lifted it up, as if to check the time, and her face reappeared, smaller, and floating above his arm.
“This wristband is your key to the starship,” she explained, guiding Verity forward with her arm. “It’s used to access your room, order food, and sign up for any classes or amenities! Just tap your band!”
“Okay…” Verity ran his hand nervously through his hair. He couldn’t remember how long it had been when he left, or whether it was any longer now. The fact that it was still short mildly amazed him.
“Follow the yellow lights on the floor to your room! They’ll lead you right to it, impossible to miss!” She smiled and waved from the space where she floated above his wrist. Verity stared at the woman, his feet still unwilling to work with him. “Make yourself at home. Enjoy the rest of your voyage, Verity!”
Despite having just slept for over a century, Verity was nothing short of exhausted. The lights along the path did lead to a doorway beyond the cryo bay. As Verity walked, he looked back and forth at the giant room he was in. This room looked like a warehouse, with giant steel walls on all sides, and hundreds of cryo-pods in groups of six around central pillars. They were organized, but as he walked, it felt like a labyrinth. The aisles of pods reminded him of a library, but instead of the colorful spines of books staring back at him, it was the faces of sleeping people.
He followed the lights on the floor for a little ways before pausing to peer over at the people he saw. Each pod had a digital nameplate. On them, in golden text, was their name, age, and occupation. Verity hesitated for a minute. The confusion still hadn’t cleared from his mind. He knew his name, possibly only because the hologram woman had told him. Did he know anything else about himself? “Verity… Verity…” he muttered, hoping hearing his name would jog his memory. His voice came out ragged, not at all familiar. He cleared his throat. “My name is Verity and I am…” he tried to think of anything he could know for certain about himself.
“My name is Verity and… my favorite color is yellow.” Fantastic! He had remembered the most important, crucial fact about his life. Oh, hooray! It was all uphill from here. Given a sudden burst of energy to his legs, Verity found himself retracing his steps back to his pod. It was pretty easy to find, what with the lights and the fact that it was the only empty one. He knelt down and observed the placard telling him who he was.
Verity - 26 - Logistics Analyst
Well that explained… very little. With a sigh, Verity got to his feet again and followed the light trail. The walk was longer than he expected, taking him through many long, white hallways. Maybe it made more sense that way? For him to be the only one awake from his room so far. If everyone was trying to follow their own trail of lights, how would anyone be able to tell which one was theirs? A staggered approach, yes, that made sense. Verity felt like he was about to nod off along the way, but the lady’s voice returned to him.
“Your cabin is this way,” she pointed in the direction the lights led. “Your room is on the upper floor, a premium suite.”
“Premium…” Verity parroted, his voice still sounding wrong. Trying to keep his mind focused and his legs moving without collapse, Verity returned his thoughts to himself. “My name is Verity, I am 26 years old, and I’m a… logistics analyst.” That sounded like a… a job. At the current moment, it meant nothing to him, though. Hopefully they weren’t going to start him working yet! He needed a bit of time to sit and think. The memories had to come back, if they didn’t, that was just shitty design.
“Verity,” the woman’s voice startled him out of his thoughts as he realized he had come to the door of an elevator. “Just take this elevator up to the top floor, the lights will lead you the rest of the way.”
“Oookay,” Verity sighed, stepping in as the door opened. He felt naked as he looked down, realizing he was wearing a white tee shirt and shorts. This was not his normal attire. He sincerely hoped his belongings would be in his room already. He needed to get out of this and into something more comfortable. A white button up, maybe a sweater vest. Okay. That was something. He began to remember his clothing preferences.
Generic elevator music played over the speaker. Verity stared at the mirror on the wall, taking in his appearance. He didn’t look great, but admittedly, it was not as bad as he had feared. His face was the only thing he recognized, but he looked a lot worse than he had expected. His skin was paler than he remembered, his hair disheveled. Verity ran his fingers through it, and though it was very short, he could tell it would become pretty curly if he let it grow out. At some point, he had had long hair. Back in college. It had been a stressful few years, the long nights spent pouring over his thesis, rewriting it from scratch four separate times.
Yeah, his hair had been the least of his concern. Now, though… maybe this would be a good chance for a fresh start. Wasn’t that what hologram lady had said? He was busy running his fingers nervously through his short hair when a bell chimed and the door opened. Instead of it being his floor, though, a small robot rolled onto the elevator with him. “Hello, Passenger,” the AI vacuum greeted him.
Verity felt momentarily surprised before shrugging it off. “Hi there, robot,” he felt the strength returning to his voice the more he used it. The robot only went up one floor before departing, leaving him alone once more. He looked at his eyes in the reflection, his irises so dark they almost appeared black. As he stared, his reflection blinked back at him. Verity wondered if his eyes had always looked like that, or if maybe his pupils were blown out from whatever had been keeping him asleep. It felt so strange, only knowing bits and pieces about his life.
“Hey, hologram lady?” He muttered, flicking his wrist as the elevator finally reached his floor. To his surprise, she appeared. “Why can’t I-”
He couldn’t get his full sentence out before she cut him off. “Your room is just ahead! Look for the flashing yellow light!”
Indeed, he saw the light. She wasn’t kidding when she said ‘impossible to miss.’ It could’ve had a giant arrow sign that said VERITY on it, and it might’ve been less conspicuous than the flashing light. “Why can’t I remember anything?” He asked, but she disappeared from his wrist. With a sigh, Verity headed for his room. He swiped the band on his wrist and the door slid open, revealing his premium suite.
The room was a minimally decorated loft, nicer than any of the studio apartments Verity had lived in. Even better, none of them had a view quite like this. He was immediately drawn to the window, a wall of glass surrounded by a strip of LEDs that breathed through the colors. Outside was the inky black void of space, distant stars dotting the sky. He stared out, completely entranced by it for a moment. When Verity finally turned around, he noticed the rest of the room. On the main floor was a full kitchen with a bar counter for sitting, a recliner chair near the window as well as a large screen TV, and a desk. Above the kitchen was the loft, which housed a king sized bed and a closet.
“Welcome to your room, Verity,” hologram lady reappeared above his arm, her sudden speaking startling Verity. It was so quiet, eerily quiet, when she wasn’t talking. “This is your home until we make landfall. Please get comfortable and enjoy your time here.”
Verity wandered over toward the kitchen, inspecting each thing. There was a two burner stove, an oven, a microwave and even a dishwasher. If this room had a washing machine… Verity walked over to the bathroom, sliding a door to reveal both a washer and dryer. “Score!” He chuckled. “Man, this really is luxury.”
Even with a solid degree and a decent job, life in the city must’ve been quite expensive. After college, he had gotten a good job right out of the gate. It had paid well, so much so that he could afford to emigrate to a whole other planet. He stared at the washer, confused as to why he could remember his shitty apartments, but not more important things.
“You may notice that the room has been decorated with your belongings,” hologram lady continued as Verity realized she had been talking the whole time. He hoped he hadn’t missed anything important.
As Verity stepped out of the bathroom, he couldn’t help but notice that the room was absolutely not decorated. “Was I supposed to do that?” He wondered, trying to think back to when he had boarded the spacecraft.
“The items in your room are meant to jog your memory–tether yourself back into your life. Familiar things can help speed up the process, but fear not. If you’re still having a hard time remembering now, you’ll feel great after a good night’s sleep.”
Verity let out a relieved sigh.
“Passengers are organized into learning groups for orientation. You’ve been assigned to Learning Group 7. One hour before your class, your bracelet will alert you with a reminder. Please be sure to attend!” And with that, she was gone, leaving Verity alone in the silence once more.
He was exhausted, but the first thing on his mind before he could do anything else was how much he desired a shower. Honestly, with how badly he usually slept, Verity was surprised he hadn’t woken up a sweaty mess. He laughed at the thought. “Cryo-pod… cryo…” It was silly, of course it was nothing like a normal sleep.
Verity tossed the lame clothing to the floor and stepped into his shower. This shower was also definitely nicer than any he’d had in his apartments. He pulled the lever he figured controlled the showerhead, only to find himself being sprayed from an unseen jet by a different stream of water. “Oh- What the?” He turned it off, now dripping wet, and turned to the right. There were four other knobs and levers that all looked equally plausible at being the one that controlled the main showerhead.
Two of them were knobs, one marked with a red dot and the other with a blue dot. Based on the height of the knobs on the wall, as well as the proximity to the bathtub faucet, Verity felt confident in eliminating those choices from his options. The remaining two levers–that was where his true problem lay.
Presented with an initial five options, Verity had a 20% chance of picking the correct one on the first try. The remaining four made up 80% of his options, but by eliminating the other two, it would appear that his chance was narrowed to a 50/50. With only two options left, it seemed like an even split, but in reality, the true, combined chances of either of those levers being the main showerhead control was only 40%. However, because the first one hadn’t worked as intended, he was forced to choose. One of them was most certainly right, but was the designer of this room statistically more likely to favor the middle lever of this group of three, or to prefer the true middle out of the group of five?
If he considered who was responsible for designing the architecture of this spacecraft, based on their national origin, he had a significantly higher chance of being able to determine which lever would work- and… And Verity leaned forward, letting his head knock against the tile wall. He let out a heavy, disappointed sigh, before reaching up and turning both at the same time. It had been the second lever, by the way, that controlled the main showerhead.
“What the hell am I doing?” He asked, reaching up to rub his temples. Having only these few breakthrough memories to back up his knowledge bank, Verity felt crazy. It was like he knew everything, but had no frame of reference for why. He didn’t want to be a walking encyclopedia, he wanted his memories back, damn it.
The shower was on now, and that was what mattered. Verity stood under the hot water for 20 minutes, until his skin was flushed and radiated steam. He toweled off his hair before realizing he had forgotten to grab new clothes. He hadn’t even considered it. As he stared down at the discarded clothes on the floor, he simply refused to put them back on. He tossed them into the washer, just so he wouldn’t forget. He couldn’t bear to leave things on the floor.
Verity felt strange walking out into this new room naked. He didn’t have much of a choice, so he scurried up the stairs as fast as he could. At the top, he was pleased to find the closet stocked with clothing he actually liked. A variety of sweater vests, polo shirts, and suit jackets, as well as a proper set of pajamas. Verity had zero doubt that he had, indeed, brought his belongings into his room before departure, as these clothes were exactly his style. He picked the pajama set–a blue and white striped two piece button up, it even came with a pointed hat with a pom-pom at the tip. He smiled at it. “All I’m missing is the candle,” he grinned at the thought of past-Verity snickering as he hung the cartoony sleep outfit in his closet.
That was perfect, he knew the two most important things about himself. He was some sort of nerd, but at least he was funny. He pulled on the outfit, surprised by the comfort. He yawned, feeling mildly hungry, but majorly exhausted. Food could wait, all Verity wanted right now was to sleep this funk off. Just as he was about to collapse into bed, Verity realized all the lights were on. He glanced around, scanning the visible walls for a light switch. When he found none, he descended the stairs and looked for a switch down there.
Again, he found nothing. Ready to give up and sleep with the lights on, Verity slowly climbed back up. A thought hit him. “Room–turn off lights.” He supposed he must’ve been told about this before falling asleep, because it worked. Verity was suddenly surrounded by the dark void of space, matching his window in the absence of light. Trying to make his way up the rest of the stairs, gracefully, in the dark, Verity tripped and had to catch himself on the last step.
“Fix yourself, brain,” he mumbled before tossing himself into what was certainly the most comfortable bed he had ever had the pleasure of lying in. With a content sigh, Verity let himself immediately succumb to the sleep.
…
Verity sat at his bar counter on a vinyl stool, a bowl of cereal on the marble in front of him. He had found some empty notebooks, one of the seeming few belongings Verity had brought with him, and a collection of pens within a drawer. He imagined it would become quite apparent later, but Verity’s first instinct about any of this was to write it down. He needed to list what he knew, so he could focus more on knowing the important things about himself.
Cracking open the first notebook, he wrote:
Journal Entry 1:
Hey, it’s me.
My name is Verity. I am 26 years old. My favorite color is yellow, and I live in the future.
I am a logistics analyst for a company I cannot name. Homestead? Maybe. They said it’ll come back to me. I’ve spent the last 120 years asleep, and now I am about to start my new life with Homestead II. I wish I knew about their anesthesia drugs, as maybe then I would better understand how to get my memories back.
Here’s what I know:
- Went to college (wrote a thesis)
- Funny
- Lived in shitty apartments
- Wears business clothing
- I think I need glasses
- Was willing to take a trip across time and space
How much does any of that help me? Not a lot. They said my memories would come back soon, but didn’t say how soon. I have orientation soon, so I’ll ask the staff there. I hope I don’t embarrass myself. What if I see someone I know, but don’t remember them? This is probably a good question to ask before class, so I should get there early.
- Verity