The Coming Winter, 12/23 (Backpost)

It was the moment he had been dreaming of for all these long years, and now that it was finally here it was hard for him not to try to shake himself awake. He reached out for the hand of the beautiful blonde sitting beside him, and smiled at her when she curled her fingers around his. Nora Fries had been his pillar of strength for so long, and it was her the ceremony should be honoring. She pushed him forward when he doubted himself, and made so many personal sacrifices for her husband’s dreams. When he looked into her brilliant blue eyes and saw nothing but love reflected back at him, and vowed to make it all up to her.

“I need to use the restroom.” Nora said, smiling at him while she withdrew her hand. Victor’s smile faded a little as he watched her stand. She was looking rather pale, and had been suffering from a stomach virus for the past week. Today she had seemed especially meek, so much so that Victor was ready to call the whole thing off. He relented only because of her assurances that she looked worse then she felt, but now he wasn’t so sure.

“Want to get out of here?” Victor asked, ready to rise and grab their coats, but Nora simply shook her head.

“I’m ok. You’ve worked hard for this, and you deserve it. I’m proud of you.” She replied, and leaned in to kiss his forehead. Victor watched her go, and when she disappeared he turned his attention back to the crowd that sat facing him. Men of science with names familiar to anyone with an interest smiled back at him, and as always Victor felt a little exposed without the comforting presence of his wife nearby. He looked to his friend and boss, Ferris Boyle, who gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up. Ferris had kept the faith, and more critically kept the money rolling in to fund the project. In Victor’s mind, he deserved just as much credit as well. He gave his friend a slight nod, and watched horrified as Ferris stood and approached the podium. He wasn’t sure he was ready for this part.

The dining hall was filled with an audible click as the microphone was turned on, and as the conversations in the audience died to silence Ferris began his introduction.

“Friends and colleagues, we are here today to honor a man who has put us all to shame. After nearly a decade and a half of constant research, Dr. Fries has turned cryopreservation from science fiction into practical reality. I don’t need to tell any of how this discovery will completely rewrite modern day medicine and perhaps even out own perceptions of mortality. It gives me great pleasure to introduce him tonight and to present him with this award. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you my dearest pupil and closest friend, Dr. Victor Fries.”

Ferris stepped away from the podium to the sound of enthusiastic applause, and as Victor rose to take his place he could feel the sweat forming on his brow. His heart skipped a beat with every step, and before he knew it he was facing his public. He bowed his head to the podium, and after donning his glasses he pulled his speech from his breast pocket. He waited until the applause died down before he began reading.

“I want to thank everyone for attending tonight’s ceremony, it really means a lot to me to have such respected and notable individuals honor me with their presence. I’d also like to thank Dr. Boyle, whose generosity made this all possible and my wife, who kept me afloat all these years. If someone were to tell me...”

Movement by the podium made Victor pause, and as he looked up a woman leaned in to whisper into his ear. The words she spoke were the most painful and fear inspiring combination that could’ve ever been uttered, and as she told him that his wife was found unconscious he felt ice forming in his veins. A siren sounded close by, its mournful wail mirroring his own concerns as the carefully written words dropped from his hand to fall forgotten to the floor. In a heartbeat his world came crashing down, and all the curious faces, shiny awards, or personal achievements meant nothing to him when compared to the safety of his wife.

Victor sat in the sterile waiting room, staring at the sick green tiles between his feet. He was on the verge of panic, and every footstep, every white coat, every intercom announcement made him jump. There was a confliction boiling within him, which started almost an hour ago. It couldn’t have been exhaustion or a stomach virus; they don’t keep you waiting so long for that.

Something was wrong.

Victor had left the ceremony the second the initial shock wore off, no explanation and no award; only his wife mattered. Boyle had stayed behind to issue an apology and reschedule on behalf of the bewildered Fries. It was something he’d probably thank him for later, when he discovers that his wife is fine and he’s been worrying about nothing. They’d probably toss a couple back and laugh about it all, poor Victor and his overactive imagination. Right now though, Victor needed a friend to help fill the depressing room. He couldn’t decide which was worse; the waiting, or the not knowing.

He picked up a worn copy of Vanity Fair, thumbing through the bent pages of what may have been news three or four years ago. He forced himself to read an article declaring that the mysterious identification of Deep Throat was none other then William Felt, followed less successful by an article about what clothes were taboo for summer ‘05. He glanced down at a copy of Field and Stream before struggling through a third article. He was on the verge of giving up altogether when he heard soft shoes clacking against the tiles.

It was one of those moments when you knew before you ever looked that it was meant for you, and as he stared up into the eyes of the approaching doctor he felt a mixture of relief and terror. He stood as she closed the distance, and absently pumped her hand when she offered it.

“Dr. Fries? I’m Doctor Myra.”

“How is she?” Victor asked. It was the only question he had and one he didn’t really know if he wanted the answer to. The deadpan look in Myra’s eyes told the story, and before she could answer he collapsed back into his chair.

“It’s cancer.”

Two words. It might as well have been a truck for the effect they had on Victor Fries. A cold hand clenched around his heart as the room started to spin. His dinner rose, but before it could force its way to the surface he relaxed. Treatments for cancer have come a long way, and it was possible that it could be removed or slowed. Hope crept in, and as he looked up at the doctor to ask about their options he could see that she had already expected it, and worse her look hadn’t changed.

“I’m sorry Doctor, but it’s too far gone. If she would’ve accepted treatment earlier we might…”

“Earlier?”

“My records show that your wife was diagnosed over three years ago. I’m sorry sir, I thought you knew.”

It was a blow he didn’t think he could bear. Cancer? Three years? Why didn’t she tell him? Why didn’t she get help? He felt confused, and in a way betrayed, until the answer was right in from of him. Three years ago they had discovered a newly developed nanotechnology which showed amazing promise. Three years ago was when the years of searching had finally paid off, and Victor became concerned almost exclusively with his work. Nora knew how important it was to him, and must’ve kept it to herself so he could continue. He still felt betrayed, but the overlying feeling of love for his wife was comforting. He looked up at the physician. There was only one question left to ask, and whatever the answer he was going to make the most of it.

“How long?” Victor asked, determined to quit his job and put all projects aside for his wife. The Doctor took a moment in answering, and her searching eyes gave rise to the frustration all over again. When she finally did answer, he wished she hadn’t.

“We don’t know. Soon. The cancer is pretty extensive; I don’t think she’ll last the night. I’m sorry.” Myra said, and as Victor collapsed into tears she put a comforting hand on his heaving shoulder before returning to her work. She had broken enough bad news to spare herself the brunt of the emotions, but Victor wasn’t so lucky. He felt torn and wrecked, his entire life hitting a brick wall before it had a chance to begin. The world faded away as he sat sobbing for his loss, for her loss. He didn’t know how much time had passed before he was finally able to get himself under control, but eventually he looked up with blurry raw eyes and surveyed the hospital. No one met his gaze; in fact they seemed to be doing their best to avoid it, which was fine for Fries.

He rose on shaky legs, and through the remaining tears he pushed himself down the whitewashed hallways of death and anguish. He had to see her, he had to hold her hand and tell her goodbye before she left him. He needed to kiss her cheek and tell her that it was all going to be ok, and that he would be with her again soon. As he approached the open door of her room though, fear began to sneak into his thoughts. He didn’t know if he could see her in this state, hooked up to machines and running out of time. The fear was replaced by guilt, and after wiping his face Victor pushed himself into the dark room.

There on the bed, with her hair splayed out like a radiant halo, beautiful Nora laid in peaceful sleep. His breath caught in his throat as he saw her, her pale and delicate face a far cry from the outgoing and laughing girl he fell in love with. A steady beep was the only sound in the room, and as he approached her bed he found himself wishing he could see her captivating smile one last time. He took her hand, and after looking at her for a long second he leaned in and kissed her softly.

“Hey you.”

Hey you? Was that really the last thing he wanted to say to the only person who had ever made him truly feel alive? Why did he have to think of last words at all? In a brief fit of rage he damned Nora for not telling him and the doctors for not forcing treatments. He wasn’t ready yet. He couldn’t say goodbye, not like this. He couldn’t let go of her, not when he still needs her so badly. He’d cure her himself if he had too, if only he had more time. It only took a second for him to realize that he could.

No, he did.

Victor looked down at his wife. Beautiful Nora. If there was a chance he could save her he would, and neither hell nor high water would ever stop him from trying. He needed her, and now she needed him. He wiped away the last of his tears and doubt. This was something he had to do. For her.

“Don’t worry my love, you’ll be ok. I promise.” He said as he turned off the machines surrounding her bed. He bent down to loop his arms under her, and with little difficulty he gingerly lifted her out of the bed. He smiled at the brief memory of their honeymoon, and without a second thought he carried her out of the room and down the nearest stairway.

Snow fell from the darkened heavens, covering the world below in a thick white blanket. Pedestrians had long ago sought shelter from the cold, and the remaining traffic slowed to a cautious crawl, much to the chagrin of Ferris Boyle.

Hold on Victor, I’m coming. He thought as he sped along the stalled roads. He ignored the angry honks and choice obscenities; the only thing he cared about was reaching his friends. Ferris had watched Victor bolt from the podium, motivated by something more then just the typical stage fright. He had quickly waved over the messenger, and when he heard that Nora had collapsed in the bathroom his first instinct was to join Victor on the way to the hospital. Fortunately, he had remained calm enough to offer an explanation for the bizarre spectacle, and asked that the ceremony be rescheduled for a later date. He had seen off the guests, remaining cordial despite the storm brewing inside of him. When the last one was finally out the door, he had rushed to his car only to find it buried in the snow. He had spent the next thirty minutes digging it out and fighting it alive, and when the engine finally turned over his foot stomped on the gas and didn’t let up until he reached the hospital parking lot.

The lobby of the emergency room was painfully bright, and in a corner a decorated Christmas tree pinged to the tune of Silent Night. It made Ferris pause; he had forgotten that Christmas was only a few days away. He frowned as he looked at the tree, but his thoughts were interrupted by the small voice of an intern.

“Sir?”

“Nora Fries?” Boyle asked, only to get a slacked jawed look in return. “What?”

“Are you a friend of Victor Fries?” She asked tentatively. His frown deepened. Has something happened to Victor too?

“Yes I am.” Ferris said, and when the receptionist rose and beckoned he followed her at a brisk walk through the building. Boyle did his best to keep up with her as she navigated the turns, and his calls for an explanation fell on deaf ears. It wasn’t until they reached the top of a stairwell that she turned to speak to him.

“I’m sorry that you have to hear about it this way, but Nora Fries has been diagnosed with terminal cancer. She flat lined almost fifteen minutes ago, and when we arrived to resuscitate her she was gone. We believe her husband took her, and it’s very likely that she has passed by now. I’m really sorry.”

“TOOK HER?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN TOOK HER?! TOOK HER WHERE?!”

“That’s what we were about to ask you.” A gruff voice said from behind. Ferris turned to the new voice, seeing a slovenly looking man in a grimy trench coat and fedora. His massive stomach heaved from the effort of walking up the stairs, and combined with the toothpick lazily hanging from his mouth, a stain on his clip on tie, and the three day stubble on his jaw Ferris had trouble taking him seriously. In fact, the only hint that this man was more then the sum of his appearance was his eyes, which pierced Ferris with a cold, calculating scrutiny.

“Do you have any idea where we could find Victor Fries?” he continued, never taking those eyes off of Boyle’s for a second. Ferris shook his head slowly; he honestly had no idea where Vic could be. The gesture earned him a scowl, but the man obviously believed him as he began to huff his way up the stairs again. As he came closer he pulled a card from his pocket.

“You know the drill. If you hear from him or think of anything that might be helpful call me.” He said, pushing the card into Ferris’s hand before exiting the stairwell. Ferris stared down at Detective Bullock’s card, and after putting it in his pocket he looked back up at the receptionist. Boyle thanked her, and with no reason to stay he retraced his steps until he was standing alone in the frigid night. His car was buried again, but he had other problems clouding his mind. There was no doubt Victor loved his wife, but he didn’t seem to be the unstable type. He wouldn’t have taken such a drastic action unless he was sure there was something he could do for her.

“Vic, no.” He whispered to himself as he raced towards his car. Nora was gone, and he didn’t have much time before Victor would be too. He had to get to the lab before it was too late.

Victor passed through the final door of the airlock, leaving behind the bright, fluorescent lights of the cramped chamber for the bluish glow of the cleanroom. The sudden drop in temperature was a shock to the system, but he refused to turn back for an environmental suit. He was racing the clock to save his wife, and neither hell nor hypothermia could stop him. He proceeded deeper into the lab, the dull hum of machinery guiding the way. Before long he was standing in front of a row of tall cylinders.

Fries gently lowered Nora into the nearest stasis tube, adjusting her comfortably before placing a monitoring device over her heart. He bent down to give her one last kiss before locking the glass canopy closed. He flopped into a chair at a nearby workstation, donning gloves and goggles to protect what he needed to operate the machinery. He wiped frost from the computer’s screen and keyboard, and breathed a sigh of relief. Nora’s vitals were faint but steady, the first sign he had since he took her from the hospital that she was indeed still alive.

Victor quickly set to work firing up the freezing sequence, and as the cryopreservant solution began to flood the tube he finally allowed himself to relax a little. All that was left now was to monitor the process and control how fast the liquid cooled, two things which pretty much took care of themselves. After hours of uncertainty, it looked liked Nora would finally have a fighting chance. It would all be over in a matter of minutes.

“Vic…What are you doing?”

Fries spun in his seat, startled and dismayed at the sudden appearance of Boyle. The noise of the machines had masked his entrance, and as they studied each other for a quiet moment Victor wondered which would come first, his long time friend or the Director of Science. As Fries met the pitying gaze of his friend, he watched as the eyes behind the thick Plexiglas of the environmental suit shifted from the man behind the desk to the woman in the stasis chamber. The look on Ferris’s face answered the question, and as he started towards the tube Victor quickly rose and pushed him into the steel wall of the coolant tank.

“Victor, what the hell are you doing?!” Ferris screamed, shoving back against Fries in an attempt to free himself. A patch of ice underneath him caused Victor to lose his balance and they both toppled to the cold floor.

“No one is going to take her away from me!” Victor screamed as he straddled Boyle. He punched meekly at Ferris’s ribs, but the thick fabric of the suit made it a wasted effort. Ferris managed to get a foot in between their bodies, and with a hard kick sent Victor rolling over his head to crash against the legs of the table. He struggled to his feet, the cumbersome suit and the thin layer of ice covering the floor making the maneuver a chore. As he pulled himself into a standing position he wasted no time in lurching towards the stasis tube.

He couldn’t blame Victor, after all Nora had been the driving force behind him since Ferris met the promising scientist. What he needed now was a friend and time to collect himself. Once Victor accepted the fact that she was gone he would be able to grieve and this whole incident could be quickly forgotten, but before that could happen he had to show him that his wife wasn’t coming back.

As he approached the tube he noticed that the preservants had almost completely flooded the tank, leaving Nora to gently float behind the glass. She looked so peaceful, and for a second his hands hesitated over the locking controls. He wondered if opening the tube would just aggravate the situation. He was here to help after all. He became aware of Vic standing behind him, but he didn’t turn. Instead he stepped away from the tube and lowered his hands to his sides.

“She deserves a proper burial Vic.” Ferris said softly. He would’ve expanded on the sentiments but was interrupted by a heavy blow to the side of his head. Boyle staggered and fell, sliding across the slick floors to once again rest against the tanks. The world spun out of control and a warm sensation spread from his temple to cover the entire side of his face. Every inch of him screamed in pain, and as his eyes refocused on the manic visage of Victor Fries towering over him he still couldn’t really bring himself to blame him.

Victor stared down at the wounded man, knocked senseless by the heavy refrigeration unit he cradled in his arms. Hurt and betrayed, Fries was all the more frustrated by the pitying look in the man’s eyes. He of all people should know what Victor was trying to do and to have Ferris try to murder Nora was more then he could stand. He aimed the experimental tool at his supposed friend, and with a cry of anguish he opened the valve to release the pressurized stream of supercooling liquid. Boyle died painlessly and almost instantaneously, which helped Victor cope with the act in a small way. He wasn’t a monster, but as long as she lived he wouldn’t let anyone rob her of it.

He slowly became aware of a low beeping sound, and as he turned away from his frozen friend he set the refrigeration unit aside and leaned over the workstation. The cryopreservant had flooded the tank, leaving his wife to float serenely in the fluid. The temperature within the glass enclosure reached a constant negative three hundred and fifty degrees Fahrenheit while the fluid prevented actual freezing and the irreparable damage it causes. He switched off the alarm, only to be presented with another low sound, the groan of metal.

The sound quickly escalated in volume, and as Victor turned towards the source he could see stress fractures in the pressurized coolant tanks. The refrigeration unit not only froze his friend, but severely weakened the steel walls containing the chemicals. All he could do was gape as the fractures quickly became deep cracks and the tank burst altogether. A blue tidal wave suddenly enveloped him with the force of a locomotive, smashing him against the far wall before the world dissolved into darkness.

------

Fries awoke in a haze, his body wracked with pain and contorted on the ice. As his eyes focused he took in the ruptured coolant tank. Jagged teeth of metal was peeled back to reveal the empty abyss inside. Ice covered everything, including himself, and as the events that led to him waking up in a heap finally dawned on him he began to panic. He pushed, pulled, and fought himself free of the ice, rising on shaky legs to survey the room. Thick ice covered every surface, giving the room a white sheen. The stasis tube was still intact, but Ferris had shattered in the rupture.

It was then that his eyes fell on the digital thermostat on the wall next to the airlock, the green numbers cheerfully displaying a temperature of negative six hundred and seventy-four degrees. He stared at the letters blankly, trying to make sense of what they meant. At that temperature, every cell in the human body would’ve flash frozen a long time ago, yet he was alive. Naked too, he realized. His clothes had shattered away when he was fighting for freedom. It dawned on him that he should be cold, and yet he wasn’t. He put his hand on the nearest wall, and was shocked to find that not only did he not feel the ice covering it, but in fact if it wasn’t for the surface resisting his hand he wouldn’t have known he touched it at all. The strange hue of his skin told the story of the burns the coolants had inflicted on his person, and while there was no tissue damage save the discoloration it was obviously bad enough to destroy the nerves residing in the epidermis.

His eyes rested on the frost covered stasis tube. No matter how inept the police might be, it was only a matter of time before they checked his lab. He had to get her someplace safe, someplace where he could work undisturbed in the search for a cure. Fries opened the airlock and grabbed an environmental suit. The ambulance he had stolen to bring her to the lab was still parked outside, it should be able to carry the tube and any equipment he might need. With grim determination, he set to work.