The alarms woke me. Blaring around the tiny chamber, I could barely hear myself think. Trying and failing to adjust my arms, I was stuck in a mostly standing position. The chamber, or cell rather, seemed just large enough to accommodate a single person. The poly-carbonate lining held me in place like some sort of packaging for action figures. I tried to recall one of my favorites, only to continually be interrupted by the loud alarm.

  I looked around the small cell. The flashing lights had hid the fact that there was a screen that was scrolling through readouts. That, or it could have been the fact that my eyes were only barely able to focus at the moment. I only recognized the screen by…by the fact that it was familiar to me. The fact that I couldn’t read it was frustrating to me, that and the fact that I couldn’t turn off the alarm. I thought I’d try a new tact.

  I tried to say the word ‘Computer’, it felt like this thing was voice controlled. What occurred instead, was I vomited all over myself. Vomited probably wasn’t the exact right word, it was more like purple goo began pouring out of my mouth. I began to retch, which was quite difficult being held inside a specific shape. I realized quickly that what was coming out of me wasn’t from my stomach, but my lungs. After a few minutes of cough-retching, I managed to obtain a semblance of balance with myself. Sure, I was confused, and frankly quite deafened by the alarm. But at least I felt ok. Just covered in purple goo that I spewed out of myself, covering the lower half of my naked body.

  Oh, great. I was naked too? I guess I hadn’t realized it with everything going on at the moment. Whatever, it could wait, I figured I had control of my lungs once again.

  “Ompewthur,” I managed to mumbled. Seemed like all of my facilities weren’t completely back. That was alright, it wasn’t like I was going anywhere anytime soon. Where would I go? Outside? Wait, what was outside again?

  Alright, first thing, take a breath. I told myself. I didn’t know where I was. That’s fine. I was obviously somewhere meant for me. I was in a me shaped tube, filled with goo that probably kept me alive. In some weird way, it did feel familiar. It felt like coming out of a incredibly deep sleep. Perhaps there was purple goo up in my brain right now. Whatever it was, it was making it very difficult to think and act.

  I didn’t realize I’d fell back asleep until the alarm came back on. I hadn’t even realized that the alarm had gone off in the first place. I didn’t even get to enjoy my peace and quiet. Not like I would’ve been able to, trying not to panic when it came to trying to recall seemingly simple facts.

  Either way, I wasn’t sure how long I’d been back asleep. I looked back at the screen, it was much clearer than before, legible even.

  Redundant Navigational Computer Offline - Stage 1 Emergency

  Technician Joel Kupler - Required at Bridge

  These two lines were repeated over and over, in sync with the blaring alarm.

  “Well that seems bad.” Was all I had to say apparently. As well as, “Oh, I can talk now.”

  Two revelations at once, we were making progress. Wait, my name was Tom? And I’m only now realizing I didn’t know my own name? Well, at least I found out immediately, I’d hate to be freaking out about something so simple for who knew how long.

  Okay, maybe I was still a little freaked out, but I had more important things to worry about at the moment. I found out that I was a technician about this…ship. The navigational computer was down, not just the primary, but the redundant one as well. The words were familiar, but I still wasn’t able to apply deeper meaning to them and myself. Well, I was able to connect the basics at least. Whatever navigating the computers were doing wasn’t getting done anymore, I at least knew what redundant meant.

  “Computer…status.” I said, taking a stab at potential commands. Apparently it worked, as different lines of text began to scroll across the amber screen.

  Core Memory Fault - Stage 1 Emergency

  Redundant Core Memory Fault - Stage 1 Emergency

  Navigational Computer Offline - Stage 1 Emergency

  Redundant Navigational Computer Offline - Stage 1 Emergency…

  My eyes began to glaze after the third or fourth page of reports that kept scrolling by. From my best guess, it appeared that something had seriously damaged this…place. The computers were royally messed up, obviously something big happened. Could’ve been some sort of EMP, there’s not many things that would destroy so many electrical components at once—

  I caught myself going down a tangent in my own brain. I knew what an EMP was, and also apparently was connecting the dots between all the different errors and what they could mean for the ship. I didn’t mean to stop myself, it felt like my brain was going down multiple paths at once, but I myself was the fork in the road, only able to watch. I needed to get out of there quickly, at the very least I needed to figure out more about what was going on, with me, and also the ship.

  Ship, that’s right. I was aboard a space faring vessel. We were going…somewhere…for some reason. The fact that I was traveling in space didn’t seem to raise any personal alarms. This was expected, I just had to remember it.

  “Computer, alarm off,” I said. The alarm, thankfully turned off. I had left it on much too long, dealing with everything else. At least now it was slightly more peaceful where I could now freak out in peace.

  “Computer…mission briefing.” The amber screen phased out of sync for a second before going black. After a few more seconds, the amber light came back and the text repeated the same alerts as before.

  “Computer…personal log.” The same thing happened. Whatever it was, it seemed the computer didn’t like fetching data at the moment. Perfect.

  I was Joel Kupler, a technician needed on the bridge. The main reason apparently being that the navigational computer was currently down. If the computer couldn’t help me anymore than that, then I had to get out of here. I tried something less verbose.

  “Open door,” I said, partially expecting the computer to reboot again. Instead, there was a sizable hiss as the pressure differential flooded the other room. There was a nondescript hallway outside, the same grey-black steel lined the floors and ceilings. The walls held windows, or at least displays, it was hard to tell with the increasing fidelity of screens these days. It also could just be a random display of blackness with white spots, the star field wouldn’t be recognizable by anybody but a particularly fascinated astronomer. One who wasn’t stuck in a cell where—

  I patted my face with both my hands, trying to ‘wake’ myself back up. My brain seemed to drift into things I knew at one point. That was helpful to know, but now in this particular instance. Perhaps once I got to the bridge I’d be able to try and trigger some of this knowledge purposely.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  I stood up, or at least tried my best. I suddenly felt like all of my bones and muscles were jelly. Perhaps the entirety of my body was now purple goo. It took me a few minutes of trial and error, but I eventually remembered the basics and managed to get most of my body to follow suit. My makeshift physical therapy allowed me to at least clamber in the corridor.

  I looked down both ends my new found space, leaning against the wall for support. What I saw was a continuous row of doors identical to the one I had just come out of. The only difference being that mine was open. I apparently wasn’t shocked, I guess if you had several of these pods, it made sense to put them together.

  Thankfully there were some symbols dictated on the floors and walls. There was one that read ‘CRYO’ and pointed down one end, another that said ‘DECON’ and pointed to the other.

  “Would it have hurt to put down the whole name?” I asked the empty hallway. “What if someone just happened to not remember any aliases or acronyms.”

  Looking towards the ‘CRYO’ side, the lights were stuttering, or off entirely. I made my way towards the more stably lit ‘DECON’ passageway. Sometimes the choices are just made for you ok?

  I passed by dozens and dozens more of the same small doorways that lined the right side of the corridor. At the end, I reached a larger door, terminating the space that I was in with whatever was inside ‘DECON’. I found a similar computer panel to the one if my cell.

  “Computer, open door,” I asked.

  “Authorization?” It queried back.

  I had no idea. “Authorization Joel Kupler…Technician.” I shrugged to myself.

  The door hissed open, beckoning me inside. Lights began to flicker on illuminating the very white and different room. ‘Decontamination’ was splayed across the top panels of the wall that lined the room. Okay, it had more letter than I would have personally written, I’ll give them that.

  Inside was a large phase shower. Enough to house potentially dozens of people. I guessed if several groups of people were woken up like I had been, they’d need to come here as well. Well, I was already naked, so I tried to get it turn on. I actually didn’t need to try, as soon as I stepped in, it activated. A blast of light and supersonic vibrations berated me from all angles. For some reason these things always reminded me of sand blasting. Even though I knew I was clean now, I still had a lingering feeling of pieces of sand stuck around.

  Decontamination done, I walked to the other door. This one opened without any fuss. The small transition hallway that opened up had multiple shelves of different garments. All of them shared an identical cyan color, the only thing differentiating them were the labels indicating their measurements. It took me a few minutes and a few tries to guess my own size. No amount of picking up random shirts brought back any memory of me acquiring new pants or anything similar.

  Slightly baggy clothes acquired, I moved into apparently the second half of Decon. It was a particularly cozy space, with chairs, desks, and tables. All surrounded by walls with hundreds of small lockers honeycombing throughout the space. This would be where I put my personal affects away for the cryo-sleep. In a ship as large as this, no one would have their own permanent quarters, especially if you were going to be spending inordinately large inside your little cell. There were—

  My focus snapped back. I slapped my forehead in frustration.

  “Why did you do that! That was good stuff!” I yelled at myself.

  Cryosleep, right. I should have put two and two together earlier, but I had other, or rather, less things on my mind currently. “Ok,” I said, to the empty room again. “I’m sure I remember what my locker contains. Or where it is. And it’s code.”

  Nothing.

  “Ugh,” I groaned in consternation. “Computer, please locate the locker for Joel Kupler.”

  The lights dimmed as the computer systems suddenly clicked off, rebooting once again, all the displays went dark for several consecutive seconds before coming back. The boot up sequence began scrolling across the screens as it came back online.

  So the entire computer system was barely holding together, not just the unit that was in my cell. Well that made sense, the errors that were being thrown indicated a lot had happened to the ship’s internals. A lot that related to the computer systems and such. Still, it was terrible timing to essentially have amnesia and also not be able to look up any information; about himself or not.

  “Alright, think Joel,” I said to myself, my face in my palm. “There had to be a number right? An ID?” I thought back to the initial screen that I woke up to. There had been more than just words next to my name. It was three hundred something. Three twenty nine to be exact, I was one of the first people brought in to this particular project. Most of the others had numbers that ranged in the four digits, we hadn’t gotten past the ten thousand mark yet. Turn over had been quite severe, but we had left before—

  I shook my head, bringing myself back. “Three twenty nine,” I said out loud. “Would’ve been nice to reminisce a little more, but I have places to be.”

  Running over to the first part of the small lockers, I quickly found my number. Instinctively, I reached out to grab the inset handle. As soon as my hand made contact, the dull lights pulsed a brighter green and an internal latch made a clack. I pulled open the small door.

  It turned out not to be a door, but a drawer. That made sense, better use of space. Especially since you might have more than small cube shaped objects. Inside mine was a uniform, and various implements and tools, arrayed cleanly as they should be. One of them stood out to me because it appeared to be a computer in of itself. I pulled the contraption out and looked at it. This particular device had a screen and a sizable strap that seemed to go around a wrist. It looked like an oversized wristwatch, which even after several hundred years of obsolescence, still found themselves on certain individuals with more money than sense. One of my friends…one of my friends…that… Right, my brain still wasn’t fully recovered, but at least I felt like things were coming together. Even if it was rather slow to do so.

  There were probably changing rooms somewhere, but I hadn’t seen anyone else yet, so I donned my uniform quickly in front of my locker. I collected my things, approximated where I thought most of my tools and trinkets went, put the link on my wrist, and I was ready to go. Oh right, the Wrist DeckLink, multi-tool computer. I guess I still recognized certain brands. I doubted that would be useful. The deck beeped quietly as it began to power on. Apparently strapping it to your wrist also was the power switch. I wasn’t sure how it had power after…many years…but it happily scrolled through its own boot sequence.

  Fully dressed, I was as ready to go as I possibly thought. I exited Decon and made my way to the bridge. Fortunately, like before, all of the corridors and intersections were labeled like the two places I had just been. Which was useful, because there were not many discernible features between the walls and floors besides the labels. Unfortunately, the amount of labels and corridors went up, and none of them said anything like ‘Bridge’ or ‘BRG’.

  I brought the link up to my face and said, “Computer, directions to bridge, please.” But as I peered at the small screen, I noticed that it was flashing a dull amber. A worrying sign, similar to the first computer panel.

  Unable to link - No Host or Network

  In the back of my mind, I felt like I should feel more upset than I did. Nothing seemed to be working right, including myself. But I was unintentionally ignorant of all the repercussions that were probably about to cascade around me. Like if the entire navigational computer was down, that would mean there was nothing guiding the ship. That wouldn’t be the most urgent thing ever, unless we inside one of three very specific guidance scenarios.

  I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my neck. I guess actually thinking about it could make it worse after all. Now I was lost, confused, and now anxious about stuff I couldn’t quite describe. I began to move, I needed to get to the bridge.

  I wanted to run, but my purple goo ridden body apparently could only manage a weak jog. It would have to manage. It was at least nice to be putting my body to work, it seemed to yearn for this, like it had been waiting to exercise once again, which in a way it had.

  The saving grace was that the corridors didn’t lead exclusively to rooms. I shuffled past other rooms at certain intersections. It was an interesting quirk about this ship. It was absolutely massive, but it also wasn’t built with efficiency as the top priority. That allowed it to have spacious decks with wide areas for commuting, work, and play. That also meant everything could be segregated appropriately, labs and engineering could actually have some space away from the botany rings. The top priority for any colony ship was, after all, morale. What better way to—

  “A colony ship!” I stopped running, having caught myself off guard by the revelation. That explained most of what had transpired so far. There were countless other people in cryosleep right now. Each with their own lives on hold, a locker with their own momentos and tools. And currently, there was a potential ship-wide catastrophe looming over them all.

  I picked up my pace.