You're the lone occupant aboard a utilitarian deep space probe returning to Earth. Your six-month reconnaissance mission of the outer Solar System is over and you're finally headed back home. Lying motionless, seemingly lifeless, in the cryogenic glass and metal chamber, you resemble a techno-mummy in display. Only the readouts and blinking panel lights reveal there is indeed a heartbeat, though its rate crawls at a tenth of its normal resting state. When you put your head down in the comfy cushion of the cryogenic chamber and took a deep, prolonged breath, you knew two months would pass before you would open your eyes again, at which time you would be approaching the lunar space station. "Then I'm headed for the mountains," you told yourself, giving in to the overwhelming feeling of elati