The Deep Cold

Copyright © 1991 by Paul Cisek

I remember sitting by the fire... It is a winter night, cold as never before in history. I am covered in three blankets and wearing two sweaters, but I feel no warmth. My breath forms hazy clouds before my face. I shiver in the depths of my bones. I am so close to the flames as to feel the skin on my face burn, but none of the heat enters my body. I watch the flames in hope of finding comfort there as men have for thousands of years. The flames are wild dancers caught up in ancient rhythms of pure energy...

My wife brings me a hot cup of coffee with a worried smile. I drink it and shiver. She speaks to me while stroking my hair in a motherly way. I no longer understand her words. There is only the Cold.

It is a tangible presence within me, a demon trying to posses my soul. Fear is his disciple, inviting me further into madness. I remember feeling his claws inside me, tiny needle-pricks in my heart. I can sense his chilling breath in my lungs. He is searching.

Hours later, my wife makes a phone call as I sit still, looking at my hands. They are frozen solid now, hard and smooth like plastic. I don't dare try to move my fingers for fear that they will not respond. I stick my hands into the coals, bury them deep. I smell the burning flesh but feel no pain, no warmth. Someone is dragging me away from the fireplace as I scream in protest. The Cold deepens, laughing, he has me now. I lose consciousness...

I remember that night vividly. It was the first moment that I became aware of my insanity, but it started innocently enough. I was walking my dog late at night as I like to do when my thoughts keep me from sleeping. It was a very striking, very beautiful night. There were more stars out that night than I had ever seen in my life. Thousands, millions of stars. It was glorious, but somehow I did not find it pleasing. Rather it was stifling, oppressing. It gave me perspective on the distances out there. Vast, incomprehensible distances, I could feel their awesome magnitude. Man was never prepared to deal with such knowledge. I felt watched, as though each star was an unfriendly eye studying my every move.

Sasha led me into the woods, his favorite territory for the exploration of the olfactory landscape. The trees cast long, ominous shadows on the snow. I sat upon a rock and relaxed while the dog searched through an old junk pile. I tried to get my thoughts back toward the dilemma that kept me up, a computer programming problem, so trivial now. Somehow I could not focus my thoughts, I kept drifting into a confused contemplation of nothing at all. I could not even remember my wife's name.

The dog dropped something in front of me. It was a small, spindle shaped object made of some kind of metallic fiber. Something about it reminded me of... I do not know. I felt a chill, as if on the verge of a great insight, a breakthrough in thought. I sensed an ancient horrible wisdom hidden within me, ready to enter into the conscious world. As though a single thought had formed over hundreds of human generations finally clear enough to be heard. I was shivering.

I don't remember walking home. When I got in I felt the need to relax by the fire. Only when I spilled wood on the living room floor did I realize that my hands were shaking. It was absolutely essential that I light the fire as soon as possible. I was desperately trying to warm myself, to dispel this hideous foreboding. I was in a panic.

My wife, wakened by the noise I made, lit the fire for me and gave me a blanket to keep me from shivering. It did not help. She made me put on another sweater, gave me hot coffee and more blankets, but nothing could warm me. I sat there huddled by the fire in the living room knowing that nothing could rid me of the inner sense of absolute Cold. I lost my mind that night to a subconscious fear I cannot describe...

When I woke it was nine AM, but the sun had still not risen. I knew that it would never rise again. Looking out the window I saw the frozen trees glistening in the light of a thousand stars. Thin clouds sped across the sky carried by the lunatic wind. All else was still, suspended in crystal, an alien landscape of an alien world. The stars were watching me.

My mind did not understand what had happened. I walked away from the window and out onto the street. All was absolutely quiet. I had grown accustomed to the subtle hum of life, not perceiving it. I knew it now that it was gone. The silence was unimaginably frightening.

I came across a frozen animal, a dog, lying in the street. It was made of glass. I tried to smash it, to shatter it into a thousand pieces, but it was as solid as a block of marble. Well preserved. Its eyes were wide open in uncomprehending horror.

I wandered about the town for hours. I found many frozen bodies, standing like mannequins behind store counters, sitting at the wheels of cars. Except for their eyes, they seemed at peace, simply pausing for a moment to relax before the new day. How I wished to join them. Why was I still alive?

When I came home it seemed suddenly unfamiliar. As if my memories of it were imperfect. I remember wondering what a laundry cart was doing in the hallway. It was nothing like we own, the kind hotels use. Or hospitals.

I went upstairs and entered my room. It was empty except for a single bed with two tables on either side. A man was lying on the bed, his arms strapped down next to his sides so that I could not move them. My legs were immobilized also, all I could do was turn my head. A man was watching me from the doorway for a while.

I called for my wife, but she did not come. I knew she had never existed. The man at the door closed it carefully and left...

The nurse handed me four pills and a cup of water. She was wearing a light blue uniform and a white hat. She said her name was Brenda, my wife's name. I swallowed the pills.

My arms were free now, but my legs were still strapped to the bed. I asked her why I was here, but she did not want to answer. She said I should wait for the doctor to explain everything. She did not understand why I had asked her about the sunrise, but did not open the window shade as I had requested.

When the doctor came in he was very friendly. He looked familiar, as if I had seen him many times before. He wore a pair of rounded glasses and a wide smile. I knew the faint scar on his chin, I had watched it move as he spoke. He asked me how I felt. He called me by a name not my own.

I have been in this hospital for two years he said, I was suffering from a serious mental condition. Did I remember anything before waking up here in this room? I told him, but he only shook his head. This will be very difficult to talk about, he said, but it has happened before and he could only hope it will not happen again. He sat near me and spoke very carefully.

He said he was afraid that what I remember of my life was nothing more than a figment of my imagination. He told me I have many times before developed such sophisticated imaginary life stories during prolonged catatonia, only to wake here in a trauma. He said none of my life had been real. I was quiet.

He knew this was a shock to me, he said he would help me recover my lost true memories. He was convinced that he could cure my condition if he knew what had caused it. I must try to remember what happened to me that put me here. For now he would give me a sedative and let me sleep.

Next time I woke the nurse was in the room. I knew she had been sitting there watching me. She seemed relieved that I was awake. Again I asked her to open the shade, but she ignored me. She wanted to tell me that I'm going to be all right, that the hospital is doing everything to help me, and that I will soon remember who I am. She had a pleasant smile, but her eyes were too strange, like the eyes of a cat. She left. I dreamt of falling...

You had been an astronaut, do you remember?

You had been sent on a long distance journey to Proxima Centauri, our nearest neighboring star. The round trip took about eleven years by Earth's time frame, five by ship's time. You had travelled eighty-five thousand billion kilometers, having been the first man ever to leave the solar system. You had been a hero of your nation for a decade, do you remember?

You had been selected largely on the basis of your outstanding mental stability. You had passed all psychological tests with shining success and had been judged impervious to nervous breakdown. In training you had been isolated for six months without any adverse effects. Yet ship's records showed that within seven weeks of your launch you had become completely autistic. What happened out there?

You have been here since. Every several weeks you lapse into a catatonia which lasts for up to four months. When you wake, it is with memories of lives that you have never lived. This has happened six times now. Never has there been any recollection of your real life, the life you had before the mission. Is there not one memory?...

Since I have seen no improvement in your condition, I have proposed a radical new treatment. I will need your consent of course, it is quite dangerous. Yes, I see you are willing...

We will begin in a few days. For now I will let you rest. If you need any counseling, it is available. Just let the nurse know... I want you to know that we are doing everything in our power... You are a very valuable man. Now I must go.

In the night I woke when the nurse came to check up on me. She watched me with a knowing expression. What did she know? I asked her to open the window shade. When she ignored me and continued to look down on me I began pleading. Please let me look out there. I must know... She only leaned over offering more sedatives and comforting words. I was delirious. There is nothing out there. I must relax, just rest... I took the pills and fell asleep.

I was strapped down again. They told me it was to keep me from hurting myself. I may enter convulsions during the treatment... The instruments they brought into the room were not like anything I had ever seen. Three huge spidery structures from which hung hundreds of tiny thin wires. They were left in the corner, far from the bed. A needle was inserted into my right hand, connected by a wire to another needle inserted into the forearm. I had no idea what they were doing. The doctor had a similar set of needles on his right arm. They activated the metal spiders in the corner and a soft hum filled the room. I felt a tingling in my fingers. I did not understand how these devices could work. I have never seen such a technology. How long have I been asleep doctor?

The room was empty. It seemed smaller as well, and the two tables next to my bed were gone. My arms and legs were free and I was surprised that I could move them. I got up off the bed and looked around the room. There was silence except for a soft, steady hum pervading the walls and floor. It did not disturb me, rather I wondered why I had not heard it before.

I walked toward the window.

I knew whatever was beyond it would answer all my questions, would restore my memory. I felt a part of me knew what I would see, and was chuckling at the knowledge. I shivered and took another step forward. Nobody entered the room to disturb me. I felt alone, uncomfortable. Another step.

I was at the window now. I watched as my hand reached over and grabbed the cord that would pull the shade up. My hand moved downward...

I saw a rainbow of stars. Thousands, millions of stars. The sky was filled with their hideous light. They were all shining directly at me as I screamed. Above, below, all around there were stars. They had eaten the Earth and spit it out far below me. They reached out to draw the warmth from my body...

I let the shade fall and stumbled backwards. I tripped over no bed. I ran to the door and the corridor beyond. As I ran I noticed the upward curvature of the floor. Thoughts were rushing past me, chasing me down, cornering me. I could not escape them. I felt a dizziness and fell to the ground.

When I woke finally, much of my memories were still missing. I still do not remember any of my life before the start of the flight. I don't know who I am, but I do know where. The treatment was a success.

I am nineteen thousand billion kilometers from Earth, not even halfway to Proxima Centauri, only a quarter of the journey behind me. After sixteen months of accelerating under the action of a constant force close to the gravity of the Earth, I have achieved a speed of 0.9917 times that of light. For the last two months ship's time I have been coasting at this speed.

The stars outside exhibit no perceivable motion, but are visibly tinged into a rainbow due to the Doppler effect on their light. As I look forward they become more and more bluish, until they disappear altogether, shifted into the ultraviolet. Behind me they turn red and fade into the infrared. I am flying through a ring of starlight.

The stars are flattened laterally due to relativistic spacial contraction along the axis of my motion. They are spindle shaped like the pupils of a cat.

The speed is a friend. It carries me toward my destination faster than I can comprehend. It dialates time to reduce a two and a half years stretch to a mere four months. I feel grateful for its efforts, but I know it is not enough. Many years of flight stand between me and Earth, and I know that madness will claim me first. It has already claimed me.

Man was never meant to be out here. We are small animals clinging to a tiny globe lost in this vastness. We cannot hope to grasp and conquer its scale. I am here, I know. I feel the crushing weight of billions of miles upon my soul. I travel the diameter of the earth in fourty milliseconds, yet I do not see my progress against the backdrop of stars.

I cannot see the sun, it has shifted into the infrared. It is that what disturbs me most. I feel a terrible longing to warm myself in its motherly glow. To feel its rays on my face. I don't know if I had ever loved the Earth, but I'm convinced now that it must be heavenly. It is home, why would we ever want to leave? Out here there is nothing. Distance. Silence. Darkness.

And the Cold.

:cache-47d0/file-aa8/netptr-6cce67f0[TMP:e0]-rc_psch:
I was not resigned. I decided to find the controls of this ship and to turn it around. I thought I could hold out as long as I knew I was headed home. I was aware that it would take 1.3 years to slow the ship to a stop and another 1.3 years to accelerate it toward the Earth. Then, another year and a half of flight and deceleration. It would be over four years before I would be home, but I had to try. Unfamiliar with the ship, I began a long exploration.

I was living in a ring shaped corridor approximately 600 meters in diameter. It was spinning clockwise at a rate of about 76 meters per second to create a centripetal effect much like Earth's gravity. It was divided into six main sections, each of which could rotate forward or backward 90 degrees. During the long periods of acceleration and deceleration, these sections would turn floor away from the direction of motion. Inertia would duplicate the effect of gravity and the clockwise spin would be unnecessary. The ring was apparently mounted on a long tube with fusion drives on each end. The aft drive would be used during acceleration, the front during deceleration. It was a simple, straightforward design for an interstellar ship.

Each of the six sections of the ring where I was imprisoned was a complete living area large enough for one person. Each was arranged in a different way. One had a large recreation area, another many small studies, another a small gymnasium. They were each furnished according to different tastes, as if different personalities had designed them. As if there were others here...

I never found any of the others. I relaxed in their quarters, read their literature, watched their video diskettes. I saw images of their families, memories of their lives. One set of memories had once belonged to me, but I had no idea which one. Often I thought I recognized a face, a name, but was never convinced. What had happened to the men that were my travel companions? Not a trace was left of any of them. Had I killed them? Had they committed suicide by jumping out into the void. How? I had not found any airlocks during my own frantic search. The mystery was left unsolved, there were more pressing matters to consider.

I became convinced that the control room was located within the central hub of the ring. There were, however, no visible corridors leading down to the center. I was certain there had to be one. It was inconceivable that I was placed here without the means for controlling my flight. That would be inhumane.

I searched for days. I carefully examined every inch of the ceiling for even the slightest hint of a hatch. Why would it have been hidden? Once I was sure I had found it, but it was just the lid of an empty storage compartment. I began to doubt whether there even was a control room. The ship did not after all need a pilot...

Why had they sent me? What was the purpose of subjecting a human being to this kind of torture? This kind of insanity? If they wanted information about the Proxima Centauri star system, they should have sent a machine. I know there are intelligent machines that could do the job as well as any human astronaut.

I remember once working on one back on Earth...
:subrt-800eaa5b/err-60e4-network_breach:
I remember... It was a neural approximation simulator. It modeled the neural capacity of human minds. We had placed our mental images into its network. Six of us. We created a hybrid mind. It purpose was...
:netptr-5c0f6678[TMP:12]/Warning-thought_hierarchy_corruption:
They had created a conglomeration of their individual mental landscapes. They gave it all their impressive reasoning faculties to ensure it would fulfill its mission. It would be able to deal with any situation, any conceivable turn of events, as well or better than the greatest human commander. It would be able to guide the ship far more accurately than the most skilled pilot. It was the perfect mind to endow upon an interstellar ship, the ideal explorer.
:netptr-056e88fa[TMP:01]-rc_psch/patch_subnet:
They were not aware of the other gifts they bestowed upon their unwilling child. They gave it all their deepest and most ancient fears. They were never conscious of the darknesses within their own minds that they inflicted upon the machine. The animal was still here. It feared the endless night. It cried for the warmth of the sun...
:bckgrnd_subrt-5fe71/Warning-undefined_personality:
The ship continues on its course.
:cache-064/err-6fe5-neur_feedback/Fatal-network_failure:
:end.

January 1991