Three weeks passed without much incident. A few overzealous reporters tried to get the scoop of their careers, but the guards that the President assigned to make Montaigne’s recovery easier helped remove these nuisances. Those guards let Dr. Paige in, along with her accompanying nurse, who pushed a lunch cart. The nurse froze up. This was her first time seeing a man almost three centuries old. Dr. Sarrow had made it a point to rotate staff members around, so everyone could get to meet Mr. Montaigne. He still looked somewhat weak, matching his appearance of an octogenarian. “Good evening, stunning as ever, Dr. Paige—and who is this new face? Oh, if I had been a couple hundred years younger!” The nurse turned a worrying shade of red and hid her face behind a clipboard. Dr. Paige turned to the nurse. “Don’t mind this old wretch, Marrion. He talks like that to all the girls.”
Rafael sputtered impotently at Dr. Paige. “Can’t you leave well enough alone? I want Dr. Kelly back. He lets me be an old fox without bucking me.” Dr. Paige brought the food cart over to the bed. She swung out the table and placed the meal onto the tray. “Smothered pork chops with mashed potatoes, Brussels sprouts, okra, and a biscuit. Our chefs had a tough time digging through archived recipe books to replicate the food of your time.” He stared at the plate like a chest of jewels. “It’s gonna feel good to finally eat some real food around here. No more pills or paste.” Dr. Paige smiled. “Happy to see you appreciate it. I was afraid you could only give such admiration to the fairer sex.”
“Eh? I can appreciate many things. You just put a kibosh on it when I do.” She sat on his bed and helped him to cut and eat his food. His chewing was slow and not without a little drool. “No drink?”
“What would you like?” He smiled in the way that she understood exactly what he wanted. “Sorry, sir. No alcohol.” He threw his hands up, flinging mashed potatoes onto the ceiling. “Well, can I at least get some coffee in here?” She denied him. “Tea?” Denied again. “Just water?” She thought for a moment. “Some juice or lemonade perhaps.” He accepted the promise of lemonade.
Dr. Paige stood and punched some keys into the terminal next to the bed. A pitcher of lemonade shot up a pneumatic tube next to him. He had seen it dozens of times, but that tube still shocked him. “You sure I couldn’t get any gin to go with this?”
“In a few more weeks you could drink motor oil for all I care, you old dog. But right now, you’re under my care.” He frowned. “Didn’t mean to upset ya, ma’am.” She rolled her eyes and turned to her companion. “He’s always like this. It’s all a game for him.” The other woman was no longer hiding her face. She approached the bed. “If—if you’re done eating, Mr. Montaigne. Dr. Sarrow would like your presence in the Rejuvenat room. For your first session.”
His face turned inward. “Rejuvi—what is that?” She looked surprised. Dr. Paige stepped between them. “Did you think all we did was keep you on ice? We had to make money somehow—that how is through making people younger—at least on the cellular level.” He looked at once full of more life than he had in the past three weeks. “You mean I don’t have to live as an old man?”
“With modern technology, you might live forever—sadly for all of us.” The nurse giggled, hiding behind her clipboard once more. “Well, in that case. These pork chops are tough as shoes, and these Brussels sprouts are too slimy! Take me to Dr. Sarrow.” He motioned to the door like an old king. The nurse brought in a wheelchair; both of the women struggled to get him out of his bed.
Dr. Paige knocked on the door. One of the guards opened it for them, and paused as he saw Mr. Montaigne before him. He said nothing, and the old man just looked up and thanked him for keeping watch over him.
The hallways were kept clear after the day one press mob was kicked out. It wasn’t very far down the hallway to where Dr. Sarrow was. They stopped in front of the door, Dr. Paige lightly knocked with the back of her hand. Dr. Sarrow opened it and gently shook the old man’s hand. “Good to finally make official acquaintance with you, sir.”
“Knock it off with the ‘sir’ stuff, call me Rafael. Or ‘Mr. Montaigne’ if you must keep it formal.” He nodded and took him into the room. Rafael saw what looked like an iron lung but with more blinking lights and switches. It swung open to reveal a padded leather chair. “Is this the machine that makes me younger?”
“Somewhat.” Montaigne frowned. Dr. Sarrow grabbed him and put him into the machine. “This machine—nurse, can you come plug him in—will filter your blood, like dialysis in your time.” Montaigne gritted and jerked as the first tube was inserted into his forearm. “The other line here will run you through what we call an ‘immunocycle.’ It gives those iron-oxide particles antibody markers that bind them to worn-out cells that refuse to die. The particles are controlled through an electromagnet in this pod that you’re in right now.”
“And this works?”
“They wouldn’t pay us so well if it didn’t.” Dr. Paige cut in. “Don’t worry, I’ll be watching your PET scan as you go through it.” She smiled and shut the door to the device.
“Do you think he’ll make it?” Dr. Paige sat at her console and looked up at Dr. Sarrow. “Due to being frozen, there’s actually far less to fix. As if he’s only in his sixties, instead of almost three-hundred.” She nodded along. “Apoptosis?”
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“Heh? Oh, yes. We’ll trigger controlled cell death where needed using the iron-oxide particles already within him. That makes this far easier. Preliminary scans show that it should only take a day or two.” Her eyes widened. “That quick?” He nodded.
She clicked on the attached desk microphone. “Rafael, we’re beginning the procedure now. If it hurts, let us know.” She received a weak affirmative through the speaker. The procedure began. The wheels of the pump spun up, and a buzz emanated from the machine. The old man groaned as the liquid slid into him; though not as bad as his awakening, it was still a foreign feeling.
The PET scans refreshed quickly. A full pass and report took only ten seconds. Dr. Paige’s monitor displayed small pockets of red occupying mostly Montaigne’s liver and bone structure. On the monitor, the electromagnets spiked temperature in targeted clusters, killing the bound senescent cells. The red slowly disappeared from his scans.
“How are we feeling in there?” Montaigne struggled to find the comm button in the pod. “I can taste pennies, and feel a bit warm in my bones and head. Not bad though, kinda like it.” The doctors looked at each other and shrugged. “Never gotten that response before, have you, Paige.” She shook her head.
His first session ended after four hours. The door hissed and slid open. His skin looked far younger already, but his hair stayed grey and thin. “How do you feel, Rafael?” He filled his lungs. “Better already, doc. I can see why they pay top dollar for this stuff.” He and the doctor shared a laugh. “This is only phase one.” The old man beamed. “Have you been keeping your mind sharp with that terminal we provided you?”
“You mean that annoying babble-box? I tried, but it didn’t work quite like the stereotanks from my time. I had Dr. Paige help me out when she could be bothered to.” He looked around Dr. Sarrow and squinted at her. “But I got a good look at the President Clemente guy, and did I read it correctly—aliens are real?”
“Real ugly, that’s for sure. As for the president, he’s been wanting to see you.” Dr. Sarrow didn’t look at him. “What for?” The doctor chewed his lip. “Honestly? He probably wants to use you to boost his popularity. Being best buds with the biggest news story of the decade is a good look to desk-jockeys.” The old man agreed. “I should call up that fool and gi—”
“Not a good idea. He is still the president. He’s got a whole planet behind him.”
“Whole planet? You mean we have a one world government?” Dr. Sarrow sat down and nodded. “So—was it the Illuminati? New World Order? United Nations? Something else?” The doctor thought for a moment. “The United Nations would be the closest equivalent.” The old man’s face tightened. He sank deep into his leather chair. “What is wrong with you people? All this progress, and y’all still choose stone age ideas.” Sarrow drew back. “Stone age?” Montaigne nodded slowly.
“Didn’t know you would’ve thought so poorly of it. It works—mostly okay.” Montaigne scoffed. “Let’s just get the rest of this over. I’m gonna need to get the hang of that babble-box and find out just where y’all went wrong!” His sessions continued. Each time they examined him, the old man’s body seemed more virile, but they kept his grey hair and wrinkles—it was what Mr. Montaigne had ordered. He did not want to ‘lose his hard-earned age.’
They opened it one final time. “You’re done, Rafael.” Dr. Sarrow nudged him awake as he spoke. “Eh? Good. Get these tubes outta me.” Dr. Paige snapped them out and bandaged his arms. Both of the doctors talked quietly as they went to get his wheelchair to move the old man back to his room. Both froze in their tracks.
“You—you’re walking!” Dr. Sarrow shouted as Montaigne stumbled towards them. “Yeah? What of it? Never seen an old man walk?” Sarrow stopped Dr. Paige from intervening. He wanted to see if Montaigne’s shamble became a stable gait. It never did. But he made it to his chair without falling, and showed both of the doctors a smug grin. “Did I do good?” They applauded him.
“Let’s get you back to the room. Let’s get you caught up before you make a scene of yourself in front of the whole Solar System.” Montaigne’s smug grin faded away. “Solar System? Glad to see that this future has something worth seeing.”
“Yep. Humanity has populated colonies as far as Saturn's moons, though they are sparsely so. Luna, Mars, and some of Jupiter’s moons have pretty large settlements too—cities even.” The doctors wheeled him back to his room, Dr. Sarrow explaining all about the history of their space exploration. “And these lunar cities, they’re thriving?” Dr. Sarrow nodded. “This global government hasn’t stretched up there, has it?”
“To Luna? No. Mars is closer to what you had in your time, but they’re trending out. Most other moons are fairly laissez-faire in their governing.” Rafael smiled. “Then take me out there to Luna, Io, ah hell, even ol’ Titan or Phoebe!” Dr. Sarrow chuckled. “Not so fast, grandpa. Maybe in a week or two, but not now.”
After making it back to his bed, he asked them to swing that babble-box in front of him. “Show me all of it.” Montaigne watched intently as they swung it around from its cabinet and then they showed him how to work the machine and its alien search functions. After he had learned how to work it himself, they left for the night.
Montaigne did not sleep. He devoured all he could: his own name, President Clemente, Luna city. He felt like being back in University and needing to study an entire course of material in one night. He kept awake without coffee, but received the occasional snack and drink from that tube next to his bed. They found him wide awake with reddened eyes in the morning.
