I regain consciousness
and am cold and wet with sweat.

The glass viewing window is fogged
from my breath.
My knees are bent,
kneecaps pressed
against the hard surface
of the Nutripod’s coffin lid.
I reach out and feel
the matte plastic clasp.
I unlatch it, push open the lid
and sit up, looking around.

The sleep lounge has no windows,
to let the sleepers adjust
to their surroundings in their own time.
The walls are blank,
covered in gold panels.
Low sconces emitting pink light
are affixed at meter-long intervals.

The Sisters of Nyx
bustle around the pods,
greeting others who have awoken,
checking the vitals statistics on the pods
of those who haven’t.
One of the sisters walks over to me,
tucking the end of her silk veil
over her shoulder as she does.
She lifts her quilted skirt to avoid
tripping on her way.

Good morning, traveller, she says softly,
kneeling down beside my pod.
She hands me a small glass
of reconstituted chocolate milk
and a steaming face cloth.
I can’t quite make out her features
behind the purple gauze.
This is purposeful,
so we aren’t alarmed
by the changes
in the sisters’ aging faces,
while we are in Longsleep.

In my dreams, I was a student,
in an old Victorian mansion.
I was being chased by a group of men
in dark suits and sunglasses.

She says, It is January 24th, 2476, 06:37
Eastern Standard Time.
You have been sleeping
aboard the Hermes
for 618 days.
We will arrive at our destination,
Sinka24, in 1854 days.

I sip the chocolate milk, which is grainy,
and remember sitting with my dad
in the Auckland Science and Technology Museum
cafeteria. I put the cup down
inside my pod and lift
the steaming cloth to my face.
I breathe in the lavender scent
and wipe the crust
from the corners of my eyes,
the mucus around my nose and mouth.

In the dream, the house would reform
while I was inside. Staircases would bend
and twist, connecting attic to basement
and then folding and severing them.
Rooms turned inward,
walls narrowed, the boot steps of the men
were always close behind me.

You will want to make use of the bathing deck
during your Wake Period, she tells me.
Towels, robes and soap powder are all available
in the changerooms.

I remember finding a puddle in the house,
stepping into it carefully,
my whole body submerged.
I thought there was no way
they could find me there,
until one of the men,
came to the edge of the puddle,
leaned over and looked inside.

You should also use the Wake Period
to stretch your body. We encourage you
to visit the fitness studio
and to walk along the deck,
to get familiar
with the reduced gravity and use muscles
that have been inert during your rest.

Thank you, I rasp. The first
words I have spoken in years.
She leaves to speak
with another newly risen sleeper
and I continue to sip at the brown liquid.

When I feel up to it, I stand carefully,
legs wobbly and weak
from the years of stillness.
I wipe my arms, my legs
with the cool wet towel,
then follow the line of sleepers
making their way
to the bathing deck.

I try to look through the crowd,
to see if I can spot Jamie or Bentley.
The new friend I made at the beginning of our trip,
and the old one from back home.
But I don’t see them
among the kaleidoscope of faces.
I rest my hand against the wall to steady myself.
The reduced gravity helps me lift my body,
but I worry about how much muscle I’ve lost,
how much I will never gain back.

Luckily, the changerooms are nearby.
We step into individual cubicles,
putting on the identical
black bathing suits we find inside.
The tight neoprene covers our thighs
and stretches up over our forearms.

Carrying dry towels and robes,
we walk through pocket doors.
The pool is a circular pit, full of steaming water
and covered with a clear plastic lid
that contains the moisture as much as possible.
Each of us bends forward,
careful to open and seal the lid
as we climb in.
The water is hot, like a stovetop,
scalding my feet when I step in.
I join the others, floating on my back,
drifting towards the centre.

When I made eye contact with the man
through the surface of the puddle,
the water around me turned to ice.
He reached down and pulled me out
by the wrists. My skin scraped against
the cutting shards.

I leave the bathing deck
and change into the robe.
I am impatient to move
while there’s still time.
So, freshly rinsed,
I walk along the viewing deck.

This is the first time
I’ve seen outside the ship.

The view is terrifying.

Still not up to talking,
I am standing alone
staring out the porthole,
trying to see just how quickly we are moving,
but unable to make out any change in size
of the pinprick galaxies.

Around me groups of sleepers
gather at the other portholes,
gasping and pointing.
An older man holds up a child
who can't be more than four years old.
Which one is Earth? she asks him.

I’m not sure, sugar pie, he answers.
Maybe we can ask one of the sisters
on our way back to sleep.