His first sensation was of a restless dream just before waking. His body was once again processing electrochemical impulses, although it would be a few moments before his brain could manage the signal traffic. His conscious mind lagged, still adrift on the limbic tide of the sleep behind him.

Cold. Cold was the first thing to process. Vapor from his shallow breathing crystallized on the tiny square pane of glass in front of him.

As his neurons aligned, he became aware of the dark and cramped space surrounding him. A flood of engrams released, showering his lobe with flashes of the launch, his last meal, and watching his family climb into their own pods.

Mechanical beeps were the next signal. He was also vaguely aware of movement beyond the glass, although his ocular muscles screamed in pain when he tried to look.

A worried face filled the glass pane. Air hissed within the pod as temperature and pressure equalized. Voices.

“Is he waking?”

“It appears.”

“One is better than zero, I suppose.”