Gemma’s cryo–casket had been placed in the deep sea.
Andre explained to Murphy that their cryogenic research group had only built cryo–casket storage facilities in the deep sea, not a fully operational research base.
The storage rooms were only for housing cryo–caskets; they were not designed for human access.
“Mr. Townsend, as you may know, the seabed environment is vastly different from the surface. The low temperatures and high pressure make building a full research base under the sea incredibly expensive. To be honest, our research group has always
struggled with funding, so we could only afford to construct cryo–casket storage rooms–not full experimental facilities.
“Additionally, to protect the cryo–caskets from seawater corrosion, the storage rooms are sealed, and even the air inside has
been removed. Air contains oxygen, and oxygen can cause the materials of the cryo–caskets to oxidize. As a result, the storage
rooms are completely inaccessible to people.
“If you insist on seeing Ms. Gemma, we can use machinery to transport her cryo–casket back to the surface. All that’s required is
a transportation fee.”
For Murphy, anything that could be solved with money was not a problem at all.
He immediately paid triple the transportation fee and demanded the research group retrieve Gemma’s cryo–casket as quickly as
possible.
Even so, the process would take two days.
Two days was 48 hours. It did not sound like much.
Yet for Murphy, every minute and every second felt like an eternity of torment now that he had lost Gemma.
He left the cryogenic research facility in a daze, driving aimlessly through the vast city. He was like a restless ghost, wandering
with no destination in sight.
He did not want to return home. There was no one waiting for him there anymore.
He eventually parked his car by the side of the road and stepped out, finding himself at a busy intersection. Standing at the center
of the crossroads, he watched the endless flow of people. For the first time, he truly understood what Gemma had written in her
letter.
[I once stood at a crossroads, watching the crowds rush by. This city was filled with people, yet to me, they were all strangers.
Only you were different, Uncle Murphy. You were my only connection to this world.]
