Part2: I am awake
I ask them to straighten me up, everything hurts from lying down and my eyes are constantly fixed on the not so interesting ceiling. My mind is in an incredible confusion and I have many questions. They carefully pick me up and place me in a wheelchair. This is my life now. I remember being 67 years old. An old woman completely paralyzed, in a wheelchair, who can only blink and squeak a little. Why did they wake me up? The view from the upright position is not much more interesting than the ceiling. Everything around me is white, and it immediately reminds me of a hospital. The smell of antiseptics, steel, alcohol, the whiteness of painted walls and the silvery shine of steel. Doesn't look comforting at all, ice was better. Around me is a group of people, young people, I would say, maybe in their thirties. There are four of them and they are all dressed in sterile white suits from head to toe. Two of them wear complex helmets, like the one I hallucinated that it was a ship, and they hold some devices, staring at them then staring at me.
"Patient number 287, female, 67 years old, fully conscious, general health excellent," says the woman with the "ship" on her head.
"First and foremost, child, I'm not a number, I have a name even though I can't remember it now. Second, my health is not good, as you can see, I can't move, to begin with.”, my voice sounds stronger than before, but seems softer than I remember.
"Um, your name is Tatiana Ristic, if the information I have are correct. Your health is phenomenal, especially for your age. We further improved it with your stem cells that we synthesized for this purpose. Your mobility will be back soon, we are working on it. You've been frozen for over two hundred years, it's a miracle you're even alive."
The name sounded very familiar to me, that my health is "phenomenal" not really, but the question is: compared to what my health is so good? After all, they pulled me out of the two hundred year old ice. Anything that survives such conditions and can still blink and even speak is in phenomenal condition.
“Can you move your hand, Tanya? May I call you Tanya?", a confused red-haired young man with a beard.
"Absolutely you can't," I said stubbornly. However, I managed to raise my right arm a little. I twirled my fingers. Only then did I notice something unusual. It wasn't my hand. Or is it? I tried to bring it closer to my eyes but I didn't manage to do it. However, even from that distance I could tell the difference. One of the young women noticed my confusion.
"Stem cell therapy changed you a little, um... that happens. Physically, you are now at the level of about forty years old."
"There are risks to this therapy, of course," jumped in a dark-haired youngster with a mop of curly hair, "but we had to resort to revitalization for the sake of cell recovery after deep acceleration. I think you handled the whole process brilliantly. Even better than our patients do, usually."
I wasn't sure if I wanted to ask for a mirror. I decided it was better not to think about it for now. I still wasn't even sure who I was.
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