If Not This Then Something Like It - Robert Taylor - Bog

After one thousand days of dream-programs, the passengers were delivered from the arms of Morpheus, and as their minds reawakened, they remembered how to breathe. To counter the inertia of cryo-sleep, intravenous tubes fed them nutraceuticals, while the revolving motion of the hibernation chamber kept the dangers of atrophy at bay. On final approach, the centrifuge stopped spinning, the life-support disengaged and a thousand sleeping-pods yawned in-synchro, liberating the dreamers within. To prevent their tender eyes from screaming, a pearlescent light filled the chamber, and in the oxygen supply, ambient music tempered their disconcerted mood. At their own pace, the passengers became aware of their surroundings, and as their tongues found the power to curl, a hum of chatter rose through the musical air - peaking when a hundred portals as narrow as arrow-slits gaped to invite the starlight. Even though the voyage had taken almost three years, their minds kept rhythm as if only a single day had passed since setting sail from the red planet.