It was too cold for fear. The emptiness of space, and the shattered remnants of my capsule hung spinning in space around me. Those who have never had the experience would have you believe that a quick death is somehow more merciful, less terrifying. In that sense the cold vacuum is a merciful executioner, but quick is subjective. For the executioner the axe is faster than the rack, for the executed all death is the same duration.

Nanoseconds passed like eons. The cold seeped in like fire at first, the pain was momentary and then there was only terror. Memories flashed into my mind, half-formed recollections. I could feel each of them freeze and fade. The cold worked methodically. First the exterior  -memories, intelligence, thought- those things that make us human until only the interior brain -fear, anger, terror-  remained.

A thousand tiny crystals of ice wisped spinning from my frozen lips, within each one a scream of terror that could shatter suns, if nature would allow them to be heard. My vision stopped, I was a point of freezing consciousness in a vast expanse of nothing. I had entered the true void.

And then the cold subsided and was replaced by searing heat. The blackness rushed away in a burst of blinding light. I could feel my heart throbbing in my chest. I was underwater, struggling, my muscles aching.

I was in a clone vat. I was still screaming.