SF story....literal metaphor.

Deep Cold: A Story About SpaceI had traveled many worlds in my time. I had taken safari on the jungle planet of Kazar, ate grobulous manis on the ocean planet of Aquatitus five, and gazed at the multicolored moons of Sha-aran. All of these adventures could not prepare me for my final voyage to the ice world of Fagyasztott. The voyage was nine light years from the planet Earth and for my crew and I that meant roughly eight months in cryogenic sleep. I was not a fan of cryogenic sleep for three main reasons, the first of which was the disorientation that one felt when first awaking from the slumber. The second reason was relying on an automatic navigation system to get me safely from point A to point B. In space there are many things that can go wrong, and all it takes is one of those things to spin you off into oblivion. The third was the uncertainty of knowing if I would wake from my icy slumber. As I crawled into my pod, I thought of the irony…being frozen in order to reach a frozen planet. I chuckled slightly to myself and pushed the IV into my arm and started the mineral drip that would sustain me for seven months and twenty-five days. Once the door of my pod slid closed I pushed the cryo-solution button to start the freezing process. The cool mixture of salt water and preserving gel slowly worked its way around my limbs and filled my tank. I put my breathing apparatus and goggles on and drifted off into sleep as the anesthetic worked its way through my system. I was asleep within moments. I mentioned earlier that the disorientation was one of the things I hated about cryo sleep. Awaking from the slumber is one of the most frightening and exhilarating experiences. Sensations began to riddle my body and at the moment the only thing I remembered was my mission and training. I knew that I was bound for the ice planet of Fagyasztott, and that if I was having this thought that I must be thawing out of cryo sleep and was only five days out from the planet. I slowly opened my eyes the dim blue light was calming and I watched as the gel that covered me slowly melted away. When the gel had dissipated I gingerly took the IV out of my arm and removed the goggles. I had a habit of leaving the breathing apparatus on just in case the atmosphere had become unmanageable by human standards. I pressed the door release button and waited as the hatch slowly opened with a hiss. The hiss meant that the room was filled with oxygen, which was a good sign for me. I removed the cryo-lung and slowly raised myself out of the pod. I stretched and began to check over my body to make sure that I hadn’t suffered any muscle atrophy. I walked over to the de-gelling facility and had the excess gel washed away. Once I was clean and dry I put on my crimson flight suit and made my way to the quarters of my first lieutenant. I knocked twice then entered. He was just emerging from his de-gelling facility and zipping up his suit. He smiled at me and shook his head.
“Sir, that part of the flight always gives me the willies. Especially the waking up part.”
I nodded. “Me too Janson, The damned disorientation is the worst part, not knowing what day it is, what year or where the hell you are.”
He picked up his utility belt and we made our way into the main cryo-sleeping hall. The rest of the crew were in various states of waking and dressing and I made sure that each one of the crew were not suffering from cryo-dementia. There were horror stories of crew members who had fallen into cryo-sleep only to awake stark raving mad and trying to jump out of the airlock. I nodded to my lieutenant and gave him the thumbs up to start briefing the crew on what was to happen next.
I made my way to my bridge and began powering up the ships manual functions. It was as I was powering up the video cameras that I noticed something odd. The planet Fagyasztott should have been visible from the main viewport. Instead I looked out on the millions of stars that littered the galaxy. I didn’t panic, instead I checked the nav charts and cross-checked them with the ships computer nav system. The heading hadn’t changed and yet there was no Fagyasztott. I glanced nervously around the room. A million thoughts rushed into my head and each one had a preamble of doom. I slid into the pilot chair and began to punch up the coordinates for the ice planet and preparing to make adjustments to the ships navigation system. A thought quickly entered my head, where was Janson? He should have finished his briefing by now and the crew should be taking their places at their stations. I punched the intercom button and heard the familiar static as the speakers prepared for my message.
“Lieutenant Janson, please report to the bridge immediately.” I said into the microphone. I waited five minutes before making the same plea for Janson to come to the bridge. After my third attempt I barked into the comm device that Janson would be written up and put in the brig if he didn’t make haste to the bridge at once. I got up with a sense of fear brewing in my stomach. Something was wrong. My crew usually were very excellent soldiers and for an order to go unanswered meant that something was awry.
I made my way out into the gangway and proceeded to the cryo-sleep chamber. Inside I only found empty pods and half-eaten food containers. I rushed from the room to Janson’s quarters. I found the same sort of kipple there. The fear that had been brewing now erupted from me in a cold sweat and I ran from one station to the next with such intensity that if I were spotted I would surely look like a raving lunatic. When I reached the medical facility I heard whispers. The whispers were faint at first, but grew to actual voices as I moved through the facility. I could make out bits and pieces of a conversation.
“He’s out of it sir, there’s not even a response from his pupils. I think we may have to initiate protocol 47C.” The voice belonged to Doc McPherson. I scanned the open room of the chamber and could not see anyone but myself in the facility.
“I think you are right Doc. It’s a shame the captain didn’t pull through his final voyage. I guess the cryo-sleep finally got ahold of him.” This voice belonged to Janson. He was talking about me. A sickening feeling set in my chest. I had not made it through the sleep phase of the mission; I was trapped inside my own mind and I couldn’t say or do anything to save myself. I screamed.
“Prepare the Captain for space burial. Notify command that we lost him and then notify his next of kin. Doc, what were his vitals when you took him out of the pod?”
“thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit sir, cold as ice.”
“It’s a shame, he hated that damn cryo-sleep if only he had remembered to plug in his hemoglobin-incubator.”
I screamed uncontrollably and as my body was loaded into the airlock and prepared for evacuation I felt disoriented and cold.