Chapter 1
The day I won my ticket to Mars was the happiest day of my life. I get to help build something new, and hopefully better. They held a lottery for every one between the ages of eighteen and thirty-six years old. Scientists agreed that this would be the optimal age group to help found the colony. Everyone on Earth, that wasn’t a felon, was eligible to enter. I had just turned twenty-four when I won and was working construction at the time. I know it wasn’t a very exciting job. But with my skill set of carpentry and masonry I knew that I would be helpful up there.
I might be getting ahead of myself. Hi my name is Declan Kincaid. Like I said I am a twenty-four year old carpenter from Ohio. I’m an only child and my parents both passed away a few years ago. I never went to college, instead I started working right out of high school.
Ok now that we have all of my back story out of the way. I woke up the morning of September sixteenth, 2217, and today was the day I took my spot on the ARK. Breakfast was a sad affair. Getting uploaded today I was only allowed soft food. It has been soft food since lunch yesterday. But this morning was just plain cream of wheat. Staring down at the bowl all I could think was I hope the ARK simulation has better simulated food than this.
Throwing the bowl into the dish tray, I leave to head up to my room and grab my bags. As I am uploading today I let my apartment go last week and have been living in a hotel. Walking by the front desk I see the night clerk typing away on the computer. He looks up as I walk by and I give him a nod. “I’ll be checking out after I grab my bags" I say. “Okay that’s no problem sir. Just drop your key card off and we will settle your last bill.” I just nod again and head for the stairs.
My room's on the second flood and I don’t see the point in waiting for the elevator so I take the stairs. Getting to my room I give it a once over, just to make sure I didn’t leave anything. Not noticing anything I grab my two duffle bags and close the door behind me. Heading back down to the front desk I smile at the guy, his name is Steven according to his name tag. He takes my room fob and sets it down on the scanner. “Ok Mr. Kincaid it looks like you are all set. As long as there is no damage to the room it is all paid for.” “Thanks, enjoy the rest of your shift,” I say as I turn around and start walking for the door.
As I walk out the doors I use my optical link and call an auto cab. This early in the morning on a Tuesday my link says it will be three minutes. I set my bags down on the bench by the front doors and pull up the message again. I’ve read my winning email at least five times a day, I still get excited seeing the congratulations in the banner at the top.
“Congratulations Mr. Kincaid, We are proud to inform you that you are one of the chosen ones to get to be on the ARK. The attached documents will inform you of when and where to check in for processing. By opening this message an auto reply has been sent showing your acceptance into the program.”
My processing location is a recently renovated warehouse at the edge of tow. According to the documents, I will be given a full physical and then processed and placed into a pod. The pod will be placed on the ARK and I will wake up on Mars.
After a short twenty minute ride, I arrived at the processing center. The outside doesn’t look that bad for an old warehouse. Freshly painted white and tan walls with a sign over the main doors says Processing Center. Walking in felt like walking into the DMV. There was a counter at the opposite end of the room split down the middle by a hallway leading further into the building. A snaking velvet rope led back and forth up the room stopping ten feet shy of the counters.
Getting into line and looking ahead of me I saw about thirty or so people all looking a lot like me, carrying one or two bags. The line seemed to be moving fairly quickly though as before I even walked all the way through velvet ropes to get to the end of the line I heard two different tellers call out “Next" as the people they were helping received a stack of papers and walked down the center hallway.
Queuing up I decided to indulge in one of my favorite past times, people watching. Activating my link I hit shuffle on my Oldies Playlist and let it play through the subdural speakers while I looked around. If you’ve ever been to the DMV you would recognize the assortment of people I saw. The people in line consisted of everything from children around seven to ten at my best guess, to what I would most likely assume to be a couple in their mid to late thirties. This is what I would expect from the ARK lottery. We are heading to a new world and will need people that can work and some kids to start the next generation. Looking up at the tellers it was an even split of men and women. All of them look slightly bored and can’t wait to clock out.
Thirty minutes later and I hit stop on my link. As much as I love the old band called disturbed, I am at the front of the line and want to hear the teller call for me. Hearing one the male tellers to my left call out next I walk his way. Getting up to the counter, just as he is hitting the last few keys on his keyboard and looking up to me. “Hello, and welcome to the ARK processing center. Hold your link up the reader and we can verify your admittance into the program and get your started.” He says. Holding my wrist up the sensor I let it read my link controller. After three seconds or so he nods his head when the computer beeps and I drop my wrist back down. He looks at the screen then back up at me and smiles. “Okay thank you for that. You wouldn’t believe the amount of people who try to bring someone else’s link in here. It's why we always check it against your federal id profile before letting anyone move on.” I just nod my head and smile back at him. “Yeah I can imagine that a lot of people want to go.”
Looking back down at his computer he starts to get down to business hitting keys and clicking things. He says, “Ok have you read all the guidelines when it comes to what you can and cannot bring with you.” “Yes,” I say. “Good, I have to read them off again to you anyways. Nothing living or organic can be in your bags, nothing explosive or flammable, and no weapons are allowed. Your bags will be searched before being sealed and loaded into one of the cargo containers. I need you to verbally acknowledge that you understand this.” He pauses and looks up at me while adjusting a camera on his monitor towards me. “I understand and agree with those rules.” “Great, that makes this quick then, I need you to e-sign the same disclaimer I just sent to your link and you will be good to go to the next stage of processing. Just follow your links directions.” A scrolling box pops up in my optical link repeating the rules for baggage he just said verbatim. I click accept and my link shows a line saying continue to the next step. I smile at the guy one more time and say, “have a good day,” “you too," he replies.
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I step back from the counter and start walking towards the hallway when I hear him call out, “next.” Walking down the hall is only about twenty feet before I have to go through a door deeper into the building. Walking in I come to another waiting room. Sigh. My link pops up with a box that says have a seat and wait. With a Qu number of thirty-seven in the top. Looking around I would guess there are about thirty-six other people in the room, and that is confirmed when the door opens at the end of the room and a nurse calls out “Samantha Green.” After a young woman starts walking her way my counter drops down to thirty-six. I grab a seat along the edge of the room and hit resume on my link to start the music back up. Sitting here I can’t help but to hope that this isn’t going to take as long as the email said it might. It said processing could take up to six hours. I am dreading having to keep waiting for that long with nothing but oatmeal and water in my stomach.
Somewhere around two hours later my que finally drops from two to one and I decide to pause my music once again to listen for my name. When I hear it and look over it’s a younger woman calling me. “Declan Kincaid, please come on back.” I stand up and walk through the door down the short hallway and stop on the scale as she directs me to. It's nothing new. It reads two hundred and twenty five pounds, and my height is six feet one inches. Farther down the hall she leads me into a room marked exam four. “Please have a seat on the bed and we will get your vitals and take a small blood sample for analysis.” After the standard blood pressure test and her taking two vials of blood, she says to change into the gown on the counter and the doctor will be in shortly.
After a surprisingly short five minutes the doctor walked in. “Well Mr. Kincaid we will make this quick and get you on with processing. I see here the nurse already got your vitals and took the blood samples. Just have to have you do some basic stretches, and a sight and hearing test we will get you on your way. So first thing first, stand up and touch your toes.”
After going through some basic stretches and having my vision and hearing tested the doctor gives me the all clear and tells me to get dressed and the nurse will be waiting in the hall to escort me to a pod room to get me situated so that I can start my journey.
Stepping out of the door after getting dressed to see a different middle aged nurse waiting for me. “Follow me please,” she says and starts walking deeper into the facility. Getting to the end of the hall after the examination rooms she uses a key card to let us through the door into another waiting room. “Please have a seat, and I will let them know you are here. It shouldn’t be much longer and they will have a technician available to get you loaded into your pod Mr. Kincaid." I smile and nod at her before grabbing the seat in the corner of the room. There are about twenty chairs total, and only eight people.
Starting my links music back up it picks up where it left off on a Eric Church song that was popular back in the early 2000’s. Most of the people in the room are in their early thirties by my guess. It is also about an even split between men and women. Judging by their clothes I would also put everyone from the middle class. No one is dressed like they are homeless but I don’t see any custom suits either. Part of me wonders if this isn’t because the middle class makes up around forty-ish percent of the global population these days.
After another surprisingly short wait of only thirty minutes the door opposite of where I came in opens and I hear someone call out my name. Standing up and walking over I see what appears to be a male lab technician standing there holding the door for me. “Third door down on your right Mr. Kincaid and have a seat on the stool." Walking down and turning into the room I’m slightly surprised. Sitting along one wall is what appears to be a coffin with the lid open.
Looking closer as I walk into the room I see that it is not a coffin. Just shaped like one. Around seven feet long and a silver metallic color the inside has a bunch of gel like cushions lining the interior. Sitting on the stool the technician walks in behind me and closes the door. “Ok, hold out your link so I can verify it is you and that all of your medical records went through. And we will get you hooked up with the leads and situated in your pod.” Holding out my left wrist he passes his tablet reader over it and waits for a few seconds before nodding to himself. “Okay looks like everything is in order and you are all cleared to go. If you will strip down completely we will get these leads on you and get you into the machine.”
Standing up and starting to undress I ask him what I can do with my clothes and bags. He tells me to store my clothes in my bags and he will tag them to be loaded after getting me in the pod. Stripping down and packing my clothes away nearly as possible, he slips barcode tags on my bags handles and scans them into his tablet before asking me to place them on the cart in the corner and to stand by the stool. Doing as he says I stand as still as possible as he stands in front of me and starts placing the patches with little metal nubs on them all over my chest and on my temples. “Okay" he says, “lay down in the pod and I will get you hooked in and I will put the IV in after you are unconscious.”
Laying down in the pod was both claustrophobic and oddly comfortable. The gel pads are slightly above room temperature giving a slight warm sensation, and they just mold around me. Cradling me like the softest bed imaginable.
Leaning over the edge of the pod the technician starts to pull wires from the sides of the pod and connecting them to the pads he placed on me. “Okay just a few more then I will help you put on the neural cap.” Placing the neural cap on my head, it reminds me of the caps that you see professional swimmers wear. If they had a few dozen wires leading off of it.
After going over everything again the technician nods to himself and takes a few deep breaths before giving me what sounds like a rehearsed speech. “Okay now that we have you all wired in I need you to sync your link with the pod it will give you access to it while in the simulation and allow us to send you basic directions.” Running through my optical link is a notification asking me if I wish to connect to ARK-P0867. I click accept and the technician's tablet beeps acknowledging the connection. He continues his speech. “Alright. Good. Everything seems to be connected and functional. Now I need you to verbally agree that you are willing to be put into Cryo-sleep for a duration of three hundred years, and you are a willing participant in the colonization of Mars.
I look at the tech and notice that he is facing his tablet camera at me. “I agree to be put into Cryo-sleep for a duration of three hundred years and that I Declan Kincaid am a willing participant in the colonization of Mars.”
“Alright then,” the tech says. “I am going to put you to sleep with this injection and insert your IV, breathing and feeding tubes while you are under. To save you from the discomfort.” He pulls out a small prepackaged injector, and makes sure there is no air in the needle, before sticking me in the crook of my arm and tells me to count back from thirty. “When you wake up next you will be in the simulation to give you guidance for the early days on Mars. I hope you do us proud.”
“30. 29.. 28… 27… 26…. 25… 24.” And the blackness takes me.