1
The vessel was waiting.
Passengers boarded in an orderly fashion, showing their tickets to the 'flight hosts' and once onboard they were escorted to their rooms. Each room was the same as the others. A bland little white box with another white box waiting for them. A pod.
Ianto did not really like this mode of transport but he had no choice. The new job was one that not only ensured his future but made enough to filter money back home to Rhiannon who was not a well-to-do war widow. As much as he hated chryo-stasis he had to suck it up to help her… and the kids. His own war wounds securing him this desk job he was not sure he really wanted at all.
He undressed and stepped into the decontamination unit they so lovingly called a shower. He let the blasts of air blast off at least a layer of skin and most of his body hair as he closed his eyes, the mesh cap covering his head to protect what it could. Didn't matter, it still grew during sleep and when they got to the other side he would have to shave anyway.
Done, he stepped out and dressed in the weird paper overalls then gingerly got into the chryo unit. Had to be careful, it if ripped there was not another and to wake to find crew helping you out with your arse hanging out was not nice. He had heard some horror stories, believe you me.
Of course, the worst were those who did not live to tell you… great idea… go there. Pessimist.
Ianto sighed as he tried to settle and then he cursed softly.
"Have to pee" he muttered clambering out and standing there peeing, and then he got back in and waited. He wondered idly if he needed another blast of air and decided to be a little daring and forgo another defoliation.
A soft ping told him it was time, another ping that started a countdown and finally the lid of the unit slowly descended and he closed his eyes, the worst part about to happen as the temperature changed and the weird smell of the sleeping gas invaded the space.
Please… no bad dreams this time…..
Ianto was asleep within seconds.
.
.
The pings were fucking annoying.
Come on… fucking… what time is it?
Ianto sighed and opened one eye, looking around inside his pod with confusion, then he opened both eyes to stare at the glass top of the unit. What?
Where are the crew to help him out? Why was the fucking thing still closed?
Ianto pressed on the lid and it didn't give.
Weird.
He looked to his left… then his right and tried to remember the… there. Emergency override. Ianto knew the code, he memorized it from the manual and tried it now, the lid finally popping up with a hiss, then it bounced back down and he yelled, slapping his hand on it to stop it closing again.
He sat up and looked around the barren room.
Had the gas failed?
He pulled at the sleeve of his paper thing and found hair on his arm. Not normal length but there. So... time had passed. Not full like normal… maybe… half? No. fuck.
Ianto struggled out of the unit and landed on the floor, his body arguing that it needed to sleep in a little more, needed time to wake up. Where were the crew? What the hell… this felt so wrong. God, he was so thirsty.
Ianto find himself in the bathroom dinking from the tap, gulping it down and then he realized he was famished too. What the hell… this is not right. Stasis is… how long was he drifting, not fully under?
He pushed on the door and opened it, then looked out.
White.
Silence.
Nothing.
Not right.
He shuffled into the corridor and yelled as loudly as he could, his deep voice echoing back.
He listened.
OK… now he is alarmed and he stepped back into the safety of his room, fingering the overalls as he went over options.
OK… first thing's first. Paper is not a good look. Change back into real clothes.
Ianto then left the room and walked the corridor, calling out again and listening. He stood and stared at a wall, trying to recall the blueprints for this place…ah…yes… this way. Ianto walked along for what seemed like hours but must be more like twenty minutes tops and he reached the flight deck, knocking softly.
No answer.
He reached for the handle and then stooped.
It felt wrong.
He knocked again and placed his ear to the door.
Nothing.
"Are they in there?"
Ianto screamed as a voice startled him then he turned to find a woman standing there in her paper overalls her eyes wide with fear and her hands shaking "Any noise from them? Only… I don't know which rooms have my husband and son in them… we had to fly separate. Last minute tickets, could not get them together."
She was babbling and Ianto didn't' know if he was relieved there was someone else or if it made things worse.
"Give the man a second" another voice cut in, an old man standing back with equal alarm "We are in trouble young buck, aren't we!"
"I … I don't think they are alive in there" Ianto finally said, "Protocol 46G of section C Emergency Procedures … if the flight crew are incapacitated or deceased they wake up random passengers in the hopes of militarial being on board."
"Then you knowing that makes you the one in charge" the old man pointed a finger at him "So. First order of business?"
"Well.. we need find any others awake so we can put our heads together . There has to be someone on board that knows things I don't… if there are enough of us who has read about this vessel together we might know of a failsafe or some sort of.. well… solution."
"Right. How do we do that?" the woman asked shakily.
"I don't know… we can't go in there to check the manifest so… I suggest one of us looks for the secondary flight deck four levels down and the other two … look-in rooms for other wokens?" Ianto shrugged.
"There is another flight deck, lad?"