The waiter dropped off my Guinness. “Here you go, sir. The steaks should be out shortly.”

“I need another whiskey,” Marissa said.

“Make it two,” I added.

I blink. Another flash of memory.

Was it true? Or is that just a random memory of me talking to someone who got sucked into a bogus doomsday theory?

No. It’s real. I’m terrified just thinking about it. And it’s not just sudden terror. It’s a cozy, comfortable terror with a permanent seat at the table. I’ve felt it for a long time.

This is real. The sun is dying. And I’m tangled up in it. Not just as a fellow citizen of Earth who will die with everyone else—I’m actively involved. There’s a sense of responsibility there.

I still don’t remember my own name, but I remember random bits of information about the Petrova problem. They call it the Petrova problem. I just remembered that.

My subconscious has priorities. And it’s desperately telling me about this. I think my job is to solve the Petrova problem.

…in a small lab, wearing a bedsheet toga, with no idea who I am, and no help other than a mindless computer and two mummified roommates.

My vision blurs. I wipe my eyes. Tears. I can’t… I can’t remember their names. But… they were my friends. My comrades.

Only now do I realize I’ve been facing away from them the whole time. I’ve done everything I can to keep them out of my line of sight. Scrawling on the wall like a madman with the corpses of people I cared about right behind me.

But now the distraction is over. I turn to look at them.

I sob. It comes without warning. I remember bits and pieces all in a rush. She was funny—always quick with a joke. He was professional and with nerves of steel. I think he was military and he was definitely our leader.

I fall to the floor and put my head in my hands. I can’t hold anything back. I cry like a child. We were a lot more than friends. And “team” isn’t the right word either. It’s stronger than that. It’s…

It’s on the tip of my tongue…

Finally, the word slides into my conscious mind. It had to wait until I wasn’t looking to sneak in.

Crew. We were a crew. And I’m all that’s left.

This is a spacecraft. I know that now. I don’t know how it has gravity but it’s a spaceship.

Things start to fall into place. We weren’t sick. We were in suspended animation.

But these beds aren’t magical “freeze chambers” like in the movies. There’s no special technology at play here. I think we were in medically induced comas. Feeding tubes, IVs, constant medical care. Everything a body needs. Those arms probably changed sheets, kept us rotated to prevent bedsores, and did all the other things ICU nurses would normally do.

And we were kept fit. Electrodes all over our bodies to stimulate muscle movement. Lots of exercise.