He emerges again, this time with dreams absent from his mind. He feels drained, like someone opened a tap and his energy flowed out of him. His arms weigh thousands of pounds.
“I was wondering when you’d wake up.” Emma says. He wishes he could see her, but she is just the AI.
“How long was I out?”
“Two days. You might be a little cramped.”
“I feel like I cannot move.”
“That’s fine. Here.”
A moment later the stasis tube rises and angles up. His vision changes to the windows that line the craft. The stars outside are bright.
“Try to step out.”
One leg forward. He nearly stumbles but he manages to catch himself.
“I’ve taken the liberty of bringing some food out of stasis as well. Should be fine, if just a little stale.”
“Over in the storage compartment.”
A tiny spot on a wall panel across from him lights up and a door slides open. Inside is a bowl, steam drifting off of it.
“I saw you coming to, so I warmed it up a little.”
He waddles over to it, step by step. His hands are heavy but he manages to grasp the tiny plastic spoon and submerge it in a cloudy broth. He brings it to his lips.
“It feels like I haven’t eaten in forever.”
Silence for a moment.
“I’m not surprised. Do you know how long you’ve been out?”
He shakes his head. Can she see me? Just for safe measure, he says he doesn’t know.
Another moment passes, and in that moment he suddenly is gripped by an incredible fear. He knows that he wants nothing more than to not hear the answer.
Emma responds anyway. “You have been out for two thousand, three hundred, and eighty six years, and three months.
The soup hastily exits his stomach.