I looked around for a bus terminal or maybe a taxi, when I suddenly noticed a crumpled up newspaper sitting in a trash can. I picked it up and straightened it out. Imagine my surprise when I saw the date.
AUGUST 15, 2010
"Two-thousand ten," I said, with wide eyes. It hadn't been ten years. It had barely been a few months.
Suddenly, to my horror, I understood what had happened. There was no cryo chamber. There wasn't even a cryo project. I didn't volunteer to be frozen. I volunteered to have my brain transplanted! I twisted the newspaper in my hands. Those bastards! I yelled in my head. They tricked me! Oh sure, I'd be willing to get frozen for two-hundred years. But who would volunteer to have their brain removed?
"Miss, are you okay?" asked the man I talked to a moment ago. "You look upset."
Upset? Upset?! I thought. That was an understatement. I was fucking furious. Suddenly, I wanted to find Dr. Wellington and those two doctors and make them pay for what they did to me. But I didn't have a clue as to where they were.
