afterlife."
"So, what happens when we die?"
"Eternal oblivion."
Goosebumps appeared on his arms. "A lot of people would disagree with you."
"Popular opinion is meaningless unless backed up by science. Think about all the theories that have been disproven over time. People used to think the Earth was flat. Others thought the Sun revolved around the Earth. Still others believed light waves propagated through the ether."
"You're going to kill me, aren't you?"
"No, no. Quite the opposite."
"Just let me go. I promise I won't tell anyone about this place."
Holly stood up. She walked to a computer. "Mankind is born with a natural survival instinct. And yet, only a small fraction of science is devoted to life extension technologies. Personally, I blame religion. It gives people false hope. It keeps them from doing everything possible to extend life."
Tears welled up in Peterson's eyes. "Please."
"The U.S. government funnels billions of dollars into science. They spend money on all sorts of odd projects, ranging from the mating habits of beetles to observing how people ride bikes. And yet, very little of that money is spent on life extension technologies." She shook her head. "Astounding, isn't it? We know death is the end. And yet, we're barely investing in ways to overcome it."
"Don't do this. Please don't do this."
"We should be treating this like the Manhattan Project. We should be investing every conceivable dollar in ways to conquer death." Her face darkened. "To do otherwise is tantamount to mass murder."
Peterson fought to control his emotions. "You don't have to kill me. We can make a deal."
"Haven't you been paying attention? I don't want to kill you. I want to give you eternal life and not the false kind promised by religions. Unfortunately, life extension technologies aren't here yet. That's where cryonics comes in."
"Cryonics?"
"It's the practice of preserving life via low temperatures. In other words, I'm going to freeze you, Jim." She tied her hair in a ponytail. "I'm going to place you on ice. Then I'll drain out your blood and replace it with a special cryoprotectant. This will reduce the risk of ice crystal formation within your cells. Afterward, I'll move you to one of my cryocontainers and immerse you in liquid nitrogen. Your temperature will drop to negative one hundred and ninety-six degrees Celsius."
"You're insane."
Holly typed commands on a keyboard.
Peterson yanked his arms, his legs. But the cuffs held fast.
Icy water touched his bare feet. A sudden surge of coldness swept over him. The water quickly covered the ground. Then it started to rise.
He shivered. His shoulders started to tremble. He kept waiting for his body to adjust to the temperature. But it didn't happen.
Icy water swept over his ankles. It moved to his thighs. His breathing turned into rasps. His struggles quieted down. His eyelids started to close.
Peterson fought to keep them open. He knew what would happen if he fell asleep. But the frigid water was too much for him to handle.
Holly watched his eyes shut for the last time. She hated death, hated it with all of her heart. Every time she saw someone die or even heard about it, a small part of her died as well. She could never kill someone.
And that's why Peterson wasn't dead. She had every intention of reviving him someday, once technology had progressed that far. In the meantime, however, he'd make an excellent experimental subject.
She climbed off the platform and swept across the room. She passed by several stacks of crates. Due to the nature of their work, she and Rupert needed to import sensitive materials and resources on a regular basis.
Five shiny cylindrical cryocontainers stood on end against the west wall. They were made of metal and rose roughly seven feet into the air. A table, covered with computers, stood off to one side. The monitors flickered gently in the dim light. Numerous other pieces of machinery were situated about the area.
An old-fashioned
"So, what happens when we die?"
"Eternal oblivion."
Goosebumps appeared on his arms. "A lot of people would disagree with you."
"Popular opinion is meaningless unless backed up by science. Think about all the theories that have been disproven over time. People used to think the Earth was flat. Others thought the Sun revolved around the Earth. Still others believed light waves propagated through the ether."
"You're going to kill me, aren't you?"
"No, no. Quite the opposite."
"Just let me go. I promise I won't tell anyone about this place."
Holly stood up. She walked to a computer. "Mankind is born with a natural survival instinct. And yet, only a small fraction of science is devoted to life extension technologies. Personally, I blame religion. It gives people false hope. It keeps them from doing everything possible to extend life."
Tears welled up in Peterson's eyes. "Please."
"The U.S. government funnels billions of dollars into science. They spend money on all sorts of odd projects, ranging from the mating habits of beetles to observing how people ride bikes. And yet, very little of that money is spent on life extension technologies." She shook her head. "Astounding, isn't it? We know death is the end. And yet, we're barely investing in ways to overcome it."
"Don't do this. Please don't do this."
"We should be treating this like the Manhattan Project. We should be investing every conceivable dollar in ways to conquer death." Her face darkened. "To do otherwise is tantamount to mass murder."
Peterson fought to control his emotions. "You don't have to kill me. We can make a deal."
"Haven't you been paying attention? I don't want to kill you. I want to give you eternal life and not the false kind promised by religions. Unfortunately, life extension technologies aren't here yet. That's where cryonics comes in."
"Cryonics?"
"It's the practice of preserving life via low temperatures. In other words, I'm going to freeze you, Jim." She tied her hair in a ponytail. "I'm going to place you on ice. Then I'll drain out your blood and replace it with a special cryoprotectant. This will reduce the risk of ice crystal formation within your cells. Afterward, I'll move you to one of my cryocontainers and immerse you in liquid nitrogen. Your temperature will drop to negative one hundred and ninety-six degrees Celsius."
"You're insane."
Holly typed commands on a keyboard.
Peterson yanked his arms, his legs. But the cuffs held fast.
Icy water touched his bare feet. A sudden surge of coldness swept over him. The water quickly covered the ground. Then it started to rise.
He shivered. His shoulders started to tremble. He kept waiting for his body to adjust to the temperature. But it didn't happen.
Icy water swept over his ankles. It moved to his thighs. His breathing turned into rasps. His struggles quieted down. His eyelids started to close.
Peterson fought to keep them open. He knew what would happen if he fell asleep. But the frigid water was too much for him to handle.
Holly watched his eyes shut for the last time. She hated death, hated it with all of her heart. Every time she saw someone die or even heard about it, a small part of her died as well. She could never kill someone.
And that's why Peterson wasn't dead. She had every intention of reviving him someday, once technology had progressed that far. In the meantime, however, he'd make an excellent experimental subject.
She climbed off the platform and swept across the room. She passed by several stacks of crates. Due to the nature of their work, she and Rupert needed to import sensitive materials and resources on a regular basis.
Five shiny cylindrical cryocontainers stood on end against the west wall. They were made of metal and rose roughly seven feet into the air. A table, covered with computers, stood off to one side. The monitors flickered gently in the dim light. Numerous other pieces of machinery were situated about the area.
An old-fashioned
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