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  A sheaf of projector light struck the floor as it slid apart in layers.

  From beneath it, slowly and with quiet majesty, a steel sack rose upward, tied in a knot. The hall dissolved into cold gloom, and only occasionally did tracked constructions roll through it, carrying superstructures of unknown purpose.

  The light managed to pierce the sack’s material and revealed the immobile, frozen body of a girl in a light cotton dress. On the strap, a lovingly embroidered tag was visible — T.G. Having fully emerged, the object came to rest.

  And the hall came alive.

  Manipulators extended. Optical pupils. Other devices began checking pressure and temperature. The smell inside was not chemical but rather mathematical, as if purity could be expressed as a formula.

  The frozen absence of sound was replaced by a Voice with no source. It did not echo off the walls, was not amplified by speakers — it simply existed in the moment:

  — Defrosting procedure initiated.

  — Object: T.G.

  — No deviations from protocol detected.

  — Welcome back to Time.

  All devices froze simultaneously, guided by code. A wave of light ran across the sack, and its surface began to crack. It looked like frost, or something very much like it. The zipper down the middle came undone. The observed object was extracted onto a dish that slid out from the belly of one of the mechanisms.

  Along the rim of the dish, a liquid began to flow, soon generously bathing the body, and the Voice announced:

  — Nutrient material delivered internally.

  — Full restoration of physical and mental functions.

  — Identity restored.

  The girl opened her eyes and sat up, gently lowered down by her means of transport.

  She remembered everything at once. Tiny Ginger. That was her name. Today — or sometime… — she had been frozen in order to be revived.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Nimbly jumping down, she shook her feet a couple of times in her velvet boots and was pleased to find that her mobility had not suffered at all. Nearby, the floor split open again, and another sack emerged. Inside it, an elderly woman was frozen — wearing a business suit and an elaborate hairstyle studded with numerous ribbons and clips.

  When the girl stopped examining her, her gaze slid to her own module. There she saw an immobile, dead body. It was her brother, Mind Ginger. If she had been cryonized while still alive, he had been placed alongside her already deceased — in the hope that future technology would be able to resurrect him.

  — That would have been the case — the Voice explained — however, your brother’s mind was unable to detach itself from the game simulator of the Dark City, which we created so that you — the patients — would not spend eons in emptiness. This space did not release your brother’s consciousness, and we do not yet know how to return it to the body.

  — And what about her? — Tiny asked sorrowfully, pointing at her grandmother, whose suit bore the inscription — O.G., or Ontafia Ginger.

  She was immediately given a polite explanation:

  — Your grandmother became the first person to be defrosted in the history of the new world. Upon awakening, she immediately wished to bring you back as well. However, we explained to her that both you and your brother had bonded too tightly with the city’s structure and could not escape it on your own. Therefore, she made a resolute and deeply touching decision — to undergo a secondary freezing procedure.

  — For what purpose?! — Tiny whispered.

  The Voice attempted to add tones of understanding and empathy, which were alien and unclear to it:

  — To indicate the path back here. To become an anchor and a connecting link that would help you detach from illusory existence. You succeeded. Your brother did not. And he will have to remain there until we understand how to extract him. It is possible that the task is unsolvable.

  The evenness and dryness of the tone became the very cruelty that made Tiny’s legs give way.

  From timelessness and otherness, she slid into permanent solitude. Into a place where she was the last and only one on the entire planet.

  — You have understood everything correctly — the Voice continued — your grandmother did not survive the repeated immersion procedure, and her body is now irrecoverable… her neurons did not burn out, but became part of the simulacrum. Your brother’s brain is traveling there as well. If you wish, we can restore his body and provide it with a new mind. Which one do you prefer? We have a catalogue — choose any that suits you.

  Sitting down between the containers that now held the lifeless bodies of her family members, Tiny simply closed her eyes and began to wait. Perhaps if she sat there long enough, everything would change, and someone would find a way to return her relatives to her.

  And if not… well. Then she would die, and her mind would be added to the list of those that could be implanted into her dead brother.