Azrnoth-zin stood up from the navigation console and stretched. His senses dulled from the lingering effects of post cryo-sleep, he felt as if he were dwelling in the gray world between sleeping and waking. In a vain attempt to alleviate the stiff joints and muscles, he assumed several unusual and uncomfortable positions with his neck and torso. He was surprised the soreness was still present after three cycles.
The ship’s computer had awakened from stasis after a navigational error in the auto-piloting system had caused them to miss the next wormhole jump. With the jump sequence out of sync, the ship was forced to take a longer way home. Azrnoth-zin did not mind this major inconvenience in their flight plan. He would arrive back with the Delfinian fleet all too soon. He knew what was waiting for him.
A computer-enhanced voice came over the ship’s communication network, interrupting his thoughts.
"Commander of the Third Order, the human is coming out of stasis. You are requested to report to the medical-surgical bay."
"Update on vital signs," said Azrnoth-zin, punching a set of coordinates onto the flat bluish-green console."
"Core temperature is at ninety-two point four, Earth standard measurement in Fahrenheit degrees. Heart rate is thirty-two. Respirations are at nine. Encephalographic readings are within normal limits, but are erratic. Alpha patterns are not stabilized at present. This could be due to the inducement of increased cortical activity from the neural assimilators."
"Keep monitoring his life signs," said the alien. "I want him observed even after he comes out of stasis. I am returning the ship to auto-pilot mode."
Azrnoth-zin moved his hand reluctantly over the flat screen once more. The ship’s controls were now guided by the computer system. He wanted the chance to pilot the long-range transport himself for a while. He knew it would be the last flying he would be doing.
"I am on my way to med-surg now," he said. Turning clumsily, he walked through the passageway and descended to the lower deck.
He had never been this cold before. It was the coldness of the ocean abyss, the vacuum of space, the endless antarctic ice fields. All he wanted to do was to curl into a fetal position and sleep forever. He groped for the blanket he thought lay somewhere near his bare and frozen feet. But the blanket was not there.
He stood on a vast, frozen tundra. As far as he could see, everything appeared a muted and opaque white. Land and sky fused together into one blinding entity. Snow swirled around his naked feet. When he looked down at his feet, all he saw were leathery flippers. Holding his hands in front of him, he witnessed the transformation: his fingers were fusing into paddle-like appendages.
He shuddered. Strange creatures appeared out of the swirling white. Dream creatures. A large yellowish animal resembling a slug slithered across his path. It possessed appendages that appeared and then withdrew into its gelatinous body, only to reappear in another location on the torso. Small furry creatures that walked upright with bulging black eyes milled around him, then disappeared into a swirl of snow.
Walking down the dimly lit corridor, Azrnoth-zin’s footsteps reverberated on the metal floor grating. The ship was utilitarian, designed for long-range reconnaissance and recovery missions. Due to space constraints and great distances between star systems, Azrnoth-zin placed himself in cryostasis to conserve much needed resources. Before going under, he had reviewed the logs that were imprinted into the computer from the Water Council. Upon his return to the fleet he was to be met by a security detail. He suspected incarceration prior to his arraignment before the Council.
In seventeen cycles, they would rejoin the Delfinian fleet. The armada was in a completely different quadrant of space since he had left. That was not surprising. Their enemy was perpetually on the move. Azrnoth-zin's mood further darkened as he wondered how many of his former comrades were still left.
The Kren-dahl was unmanned except for a skeleton crew of “metallics,” sophisticated robots that maintained the ship's navigation, life support, and emergency medical treatment as it traversed the great void. Azrnoth-zin knew no Delfinians would be spared from the war effort to bring him back.
He looked down on a blue and green planet from space. He desperately wanted to reach its surface. He wanted to go where it was warm. He would give anything to feel the sun’s warmth again. The planet looked like Earth. But it was not Earth. It was completely covered in water. Where were the continents?
He found himself moving underwater, the fluid chill enveloping him, sapping his body heat. His arms and legs were of no use. The current was too strong.
Two large blue dolphin-like creatures swam alongside him. They turned their heads ninety degrees to look at him, revealing eyeless sockets that stared at nothing. The dolphin-creatures possessed fins that looked like some bizarre hybridization of a flipper and a hand. The digits moved independently of one another. The alien dolphin-beings gestured to him, beckoning him to follow.
The dolphin-creatures spoke to him in a language he had not heard before. Yet on some level, he vaguely understood the high-pitched rise and fall of their dialect. He tried to speak back to the creatures but no sound escaped his lips. The strange nektonic beings faded into the blackness, powered by their heavy trident-like flukes. Caught in the wash from the flukes, he began to tumble uncontrollably. The strong current dragged him down into the cold blackness. His struggling became feeble as the abyss enveloped him.