|Image Source: http://phade01.deviantart.com/art/Decanting-389360713|
The figure inside reached up and and its hand was instantly filled with a warm towel. He used it to wipe the slime away from his face and hands before dropping it without a thought. He put his hands on the edge of the capsule and pulled himself fully upright, testing his balance, before stepping out onto the drain gate.
"Welcome back sir," said one of the attendants as he offered the arm of a voluminous robe to the man, helping him to don the garment, and ready with a steadying hand if need be. The figure nodded, but said nothing.
"Sir, we need to ensure proper calibration if you don't mind," said another of the attendants, working a small terminal off to the side. "Please follow the hologram." A small holographic ball appeared before the decanted figure's eyes and began to bob and weave a complex pattern. After fifteen seconds the hologram vanished, "Excellent sir! Your cortex pattern is fully integrated with a 99.997% efficiency."
The man nodded, the reached out; the hand was instantly filled with a glass of red fluid, which he drank deeply from. "How long?" he asked finally.
"Six thousand, four hundred, and thirty-seven years sir. This body was printed for you using the most advanced biomechanical technology, its systems should begin to make your aware of them shortly."
"Six and a half millennia within the lattice?" The attendant at the terminal nodded. "And what has happened that has required that I descend into flesh so soon?"
"A child sir, a rogue consciousness."
Author's Note: I would like to note that this story is partially inspired by Arthur C. Clarke's The City and the Stars.