Scrape. Crunch. Slam. Scrape. Crunch. Slam.

The noise was ceaseless, shaking Minerva from what had been a wonderful dream. A REALLY wonderful dream. She had been walking through a field of flowers, hues of yellow, purple, blue, and red as vivid as the paints she used to have in her artist’s box as a kid. The sun was beating down, caressing her skin with the lovely warmth that only comes from an early summer day. Not too cool, not too scorching. The slight breeze stirred her hair, chestnut brown locks lightly brushing against her shoulders. As she walked, she let her hands skim over the plants on either side of her, curious by the rough, tickling grasses, and relishing the soft leaves and flower petals of the wildflowers. Birds of all kinds sung around her, flitting amongst the trees and flowers like children running on the playground. It was paradise.

But now, as the clanging and banging around her grew louder, she became aware of an intense chill in the air. She tried to open her eyes but it seemed as if they were sealed shut. Panicking, she reached up with her hands, which seemed to move slower than she wanted them to, only to hit something hard and cold. So very cold. Moving her fingers one by one until they seemed to respond to her once more, she gently prodded the spot where her eyes should be, moving down to her nose, down to her mouth, and finally along the edge of her face.

A mask. She was wearing some kind of mask. She had no memory of putting it on and wasn’t sure why it was there. As she began to try and pull it off, she heard something. Or maybe it was someone? The noise was muffled, as though she was listening through water. She stopped moving and listened hard, trying to decipher what it was.

The noise grew closer but despite that it did not sound any clearer. The tone was low though. So a man? Or a woman with a really deep voice. She wasn’t sure.

Minerva reached up to try and pry the mask off again and the voice grew insistent and suddenly there was a loud pounding all around her. She cringed, or at least thought she did. Though her body felt weightless, it felt slow and unresponsive. She began panicking again, not sure what was going on or where she was. She only knew that she wanted to move. Get away from all the noise and the cold. And she wanted to do it now.

Suddenly, a loud, incessant beep hammered her ear drums. She wanted to scream, tell someone to turn it off. But as she went to open her mouth, she found that was sealed shut too.

Terror and dread filled her. She was going to die, if she wasn’t already dead. She would never see the beautiful flower meadows around her parent’s country home again, or feel the sun on her skin, listening to the birds sing above. This was it.

Before Minerva could give up all hope though, she felt her surroundings shift. Where her body was once slow and unresponsive, she could now move more freely. She felt wet though. And frozen. If she thought it was cold before, it was now absolutely frigid. She began shivering violently, the mask rattling against her face.

As she felt the rest of her body free itself, she moved, once again planning to remove the mask. Before she could reach up, however, she felt something being draped across her shoulders and tightly wrapping her body in a cocoon of warmth.

The voice spoke again, calm yet commanding.

“Miss? Can you hear me? My name is Matthew Tuttle. I’m a Captain in his Majesty’s Royal Archealogical Excavation Team.”

“Royal Archealogical Excavation Team?” Minerva thought. “There’s no such thing. What is this guy talking about?”

Matthew began speaking again.

“Our systems indicate that your condition is stable. With your permission, I can remove your mask. Just nod your head if that is what you wish.”

“Yes!” Minerva wanted to scream. “Get this damn thing off me already!” However, she was rudely reminded she couldn’t yell these words when she tried, but failed, to open her mouth again. Instead, Minerva went to nod her head, moving it slowly as her brain and body tried to work as one again. While the move was slight, Matthew must have gotten the message because shortly after, Minerva felt rough but warm fingers gently tug at the mask stubbornly clinging to her face.

Though it took some work, the mask soon popped off and Minerva looked up to see the most beautiful pair of blue eyes she had ever seen. They looked like the sapphires her mom always wore to the fancy dinner parties her dad took them to.

“There we go. That must be better,” the man Minerva could only assume was Matthew said.

Minerva looked around her. A group of five people, men and women, stood toward the edges of the room wearing bright red snowsuits. While she didn’t recognize any of them, they all wore looks of intense concern on their faces. Allowing her eyes to look beyond them, she looked at the walls that surrounded them, dark and metallic, with ice along them. Monitors and buttons lined every wall. These were just as unrecognizable as the people that stood against them, their backs pressed to them as though Minerva herself might explode at any minute. But something wasn’t quite right.

The walls were broken, wires protruding from them, metal bent at odd angles. Piles of snow had drifted to the edges of the room and icicles hung from the ceiling. Looking to her right, she saw a tank with clear glass. On the floor of the tank was a puddle of water, as though the tank had been filled at some point. There were wires on the bottom of the tank and as her eyes followed the length of them, she saw they led to her. Subconsciously, she twitched her hands and feet and yes! There! The wires moved with her movement. So she was still attached to them. But why? Why was she here in the first place?

Minerva looked down at herself and noticed she was wrapped in a thick, red blanket, the same color as the snowsuits each person that surrounded her wore. The blanket must have been heated because she felt quite warm despite the harsh winter landscape that surrounded her.

“Where…am…I?”Minerva asked. It came out hoarse and unclear. Her throat ached from disuse and she could barely speak above a whisper. Matthew, also clad in a red snowsuit, must have understood though because he responded.

“You are on the planet Nix in the Westin System. The military stumbled across your ship when doing reconnaissance for His Majesty and my crew was sent here to excavate. It seems you crashed here but it’s unclear how long the ship has been here. We have no history on our planetary radars that a ship crashed here recently. Do you mind telling me who you are and where you come from?”

Minerva was flabbergasted. None of what Matthew had just said made sense to her. Nix? The Westin System? A ship? It was almost as though he was speaking a different language entirely! She plucked up her courage though and looked into those bright blue, almost otherworldly eyes.

“I’m not sure…about any of that…sir. As for myself…my name is…Minerva…Animosus and I’m from…London,” Minerva said slowly, willing her voice to work. However, on her last word, ‘London,’ Matthew’s eyes almost doubled in size and his jaw dropped. Minerva suddenly grew worried, thinking she may have misspoke or said something that now put her in danger. After a moment’s hesitation though, Matthew said, “Did…did you say…London?”

“Yes,” Minerva responded. “What…of it?”

“Well, it’s just that…I apologize miss but there has been no place called, ‘London’ in over 3000 years.”

It was Minerva’s turn to be dumbfounded. She earnestly looked at Matthew and asked, “What year…is…it?”

Matthew’s eyes grew sympathetic. “5030.”

Horror and dread filled Minerva. Before being rudely awakened from her dream of colorful flowers and everlasting sunshine, Minerva only remembered snuggling into her warm, comfortable bed in her parent’s London flat after a lovely dinner celebration in honor of her brother graduating University. Oxford’s graduating class of 2024.

Minerva had no idea what sort of prank was being pulled on her but she knew she would get to the bottom of it. And fast.