Traveling Into the Future

Short Science Fiction Stories: Part 8

Cryo Snow and its Consequences

The fractions of a second after the loss of control and before the crash seemed to be in slow motion – like the time I plunged into a ditch on my bicycle when I was a kid. This time, my right leg slid away, and I figured I would soon be in pain. My knee was twisted. As I struggled through the snow, I felt a stabbing pain. Then I lost consciousness.

“Avar, where am I?” I was lying in bed, my right knee was in a splint, and the ceiling light was blinding me. “Don’t worry, Nero,” my AI assistant said soothingly. “The rescue velocopter brought you to the trauma clinic at St. Moritz. Two paramedics were able to care for you the entire time because the autopilot was working flawlessly. They had to use a mobile body scan to determine that your cruciate ligament was torn. Or more precisely both cruciate ligaments – completely, I might add. You’ll undergo an operation right away.” I love the way Avar breaks things to me so gently. “Aha,” was all I could say. My voice failed me. But gradually everything came back to me.

“But I told you that you should change skis,” Avar lectured me. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, I thought to myself, and yes, I should not have been using the Supergliders when I started skiing at a higher elevation on natural snow again. That’s when I realized it was like skiing on butter, the right ski slipped away, and…

“Are you all set?” An attending physician was standing in front of me in a white lab coat. “My name is Dr. Schönbächler and I’ll be monitoring your operation,” he said in an almost bored tone. He seemed to see that my eyes had widened with fear. “Our latest surgery robot will perform the operation. It will measure the anatomy of your knee and adjust its algorithms accordingly. The actual course of the operation is precisely defined. It always works. Take a look.” Dr. Schönbächler pointed toward the center of the room where a three-dimensional hologram appeared. “Those are your new cruciate ligaments. We are going to remove the old ones and insert tendon grafts for you.” I was still listening when he described them as a 100 percent match for my natural cruciate ligaments, with a multiaxial fiber structure and mechanoreceptors. They bore no resemblance to the kind used just a few years earlier – and represent a huge advance for medical science.” According to Dr. Schönbächler, these receptors gradually reestablish the connection to the spinal cord, which is considered crucial for body awareness – what is known as proprioception. Doctors and their Latin – that will never change. “You’ll soon be able to ski again.” He finally left, but not before mentioning that an anesthetist would be stopping by shortly.

“I feel sorry for you.” Avar seemed to be developing something akin to sympathy as the next doctor came in. He told me about Mister Sleepy. This “gentleman” is my anesthesia machine, which functions with a closed-loop process. That roughly means my bodily functions are continually measured during the operation, and Mister Sleepy administers precise doses of the anesthesia with the help of a feedback-based control system. “It’s like having an autopilot,” the anesthetist told me. With little to do, he evidently had plenty of time to chat. “The feedback-based, closed-loop process allows the automation of anesthesia with the highest-possible quality in handling the requirements and variability.” “Aha,” I said once again. I was already feeling slightly numb.

The sun was shining through a small gap in the blinds into the recovery room. I was in a surprisingly good mood, nearly a bit euphoric. “Avar, am I still alive?” I definitely wanted to hear her voice. “Everything’s okay, Nero,” she finally said. “They’ve already scanned your knee and said that everything will grow back together over the next few weeks as planned. You don’t have to take any medicine. It is already in the implant and will be dispensed gradually.” I breathed a sigh of relief. That means I can resume my research travels soon. “Can I tell you something else?” Avar asked, and then quickly continued: “Dr. Schönbächler and the anesthetist were having coffee during the surgery.”