The coming of the Amazons : $b A satiristic speculation on the scientific future of civilizationJohnson, Owen
Science
The coming of the Amazons : $b A satiristic speculation on the scientific future of civilization
Johnson, Owen
Cryonics -- Fiction; Satire; Science fiction; Sex role -- Fiction
At this moment I felt a sensation of warmth at the back of my neck
which gradually extended over my back and down my arms like the
tingling heat of a myriad electric needles.
“Are you conscious now?” said a voice.
By great effort I succeeded in producing a sound in my throat.
“I hear you. Everything is going well. Relax completely. I am going
to put you to sleep again while we complete the defrigeration of your
body. By tomorrow all will be normal.”
“What beautiful teeth and all his own,” I heard another voice say as I
passed blissfully into unconsciousness.
* * * * *
When I awoke for the second time, I found myself strapped to a
stretcher, enveloped in warm soft coverings. My head alone was free to
move but a bandage over my eyes shut out all opportunity to see what
was transpiring about me. At the motion of my head a soft hand was
placed on my shoulder and a voice said:
“How do you feel?”
“All right.”
“Are you warm enough?”
“Yes.”
“Any buzzing in your head or ears?”
“No.”
“Can you move your fingers?”
“Perfectly.”
“Your feet?”
“The same.”
“Without pain?”
“Absolutely.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Not particularly.”
“Thirsty?”
“No.”
“Is there anything you want?”
“I want to see.”
“Very well, but be careful to obey implicitly my directions. Otherwise
you may be blinded by too sudden an exposure to the light.”
A heavy glass frame replaced the bandages.
“I am giving you a fortifying solution to strengthen your eyesight.
Open your eyes and keep them open. Does that hurt?”
“No, very pleasant.”
“Now I am letting in the light gradually. If you feel any strain tell
me at once.”
I became aware of the same misty violet light that I remembered on
first awakening. This dissolved into a greyish blue, to be succeeded
by a green changing to orange. This process of gradual modification
lasted about two hours, without having produced any disagreeable
effect. My eyes were again washed out and a pair of greyish glasses
replaced the weight on my forehead. I sat up and looked about me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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