Endi Vejr - Project Hail Mary

Whats two plus two?

Something about the question irritates me. Im tired. I drift back tosleep.

A few minutes pass, then I hear it again.

Whats two plus two?

The soft, feminine voice lacks emotion and the pronunciation isidentical to the previous time she said it. Its a computer. A computeris hassling me. Im even more irritated now.

Lrmln, I say. Im surprised. I meant to say Leave me aloneacompletely reasonable response in my opinionbut I failed to speak.

Incorrect, says the computer. Whats two plus two?

Time for an experiment. Ill try to say hello.

Hlllch? I say.

Incorrect. Whats two plus two?

Whats going on? I want to find out, but I dont have much to work with.I cant see. I cant hear anything other than the computer. I cant evenfeel. No, thats not true. I feel something. Im lying down. Im onsomething soft. A bed.

I think my eyes are closed. Thats not so bad. All I have to do is openthem. I try, but nothing happens.

Why cant I open my eyes?

Open.

Aaaandopen!

Open, dang it!

Ooh! I felt a wiggle that time. My eyelids moved. I felt it.

Open!

My eyelids creep up and blinding light sears my retinas.

Glunn! I say. I keep my eyes open with sheer force of will. Everythingis white with shades of pain.

Eye movement detected, my tormenter says. Whats two plus two?

The whiteness lessens. My eyes are adjusting. I start to see shapes, butnothing sensible yet. Lets seecan I move my hands? No.

Feet? Also no.

But I can move my mouth, right? Ive been saying stuff. Not stuff thatmakes sense, but its something.

Fffr.

Incorrect. Whats two plus two?

The shapes start to make sense. Im in a bed. Its kind ofoval-shaped.

LED lights shine down on me. Cameras in the ceiling watch my every move.Creepy though that is, Im much more concerned about the robot arms.

The two brushed-steel armatures hang from the ceiling. Each has anassortment of disturbingly penetration-looking tools where hands shouldbe. Cant say I like the look of that.

Ffffooohrrrr, I say. Will that do?

Incorrect. Whats two plus two?

Dang it. I summon all my willpower and inner strength. Also, Imstarting to panic a little. Good. I use that too.

Fffoouurr, I finally say.

Correct.

Thank God. I can talk. Sort of.

I breathe a sigh of relief. WaitI just controlled my breathing. I takeanother breath. On purpose. My mouth is sore. My throat is sore. Butits my soreness. I have control.

Im wearing a breathing mask. Its tight to my face and connected to ahose that goes behind my head.

Can I get up?

No. But I can move my head a little. I look down at my body. Im nakedand connected to more tubes than I can count. Theres one in each arm,one in each leg, one in my gentlemens equipment, and two thatdisappear under my thigh. Im guessing one of them is up where the sundoesnt shine.

That cant be good.

Also, Im covered with electrodes. The sensor-type stickers like for anEKG, but theyre all over the place. Well, at least theyre only on myskin instead of jammed into me.

Wh I wheeze. I try again. WhereamI?

Whats the cube root of eight? the computer asks.

Where am I? I say again. This time its easier.

Incorrect. Whats the cube root of eight?

I take a deep breath and speak slowly. Two times e to thetwo-i-pi.

Incorrect. Whats the cube root of eight?

But I wasnt incorrect. I just wanted to see how smart the computer was.Answer: not very.

Two, I say.

Correct.

I listen for follow-up questions, but the computer seems satisfied.

Im tired. I drift off to sleep again.

I wake up. How long was I out? It must have been a while because I feelrested. I open my eyes without any effort. Thats progress.

I try to move my fingers. They wiggle as instructed. All right. Nowwere getting somewhere.

Hand movement detected, says the computer. Remain still.

What? Why

The robot arms come for me. They move fast. Before I know it, theyveremoved most of the tubes from my body. I didnt feel a thing. Though myskin is kind of numb anyway.

Only three tubes remain: an IV in my arm, a tube up my butt, and acatheter. Those latter two are kind of the signature items I wantedremoved, but okay.

I raise my right arm and let it fall back to the bed. I do the same formy left. They feel heavy as heck. I repeat the process a few times. Myarms are muscular. That doesnt make sense. I assume Ive had somemassive medical problem and been in this bed for a while. Otherwise, whywould they have me hooked up to all the stuff? Shouldnt there be muscleatrophy?

And shouldnt there be doctors? Or maybe the sounds of a hospital? Andwhats with this bed? Its not a rectangle, its an oval and I thinkits mounted to the wall instead of the floor.

Take I trail off. Still kind of tired. Take the tubes out.

The computer doesnt respond.

I do a few more arm lifts. I wiggle my toes. Im definitely gettingbetter.

I tilt my ankles back and forth. Theyre working. I raise my knees up.My legs are well toned too. Not bodybuilder thick, but still too healthyfor someone on the verge of death. Im not sure how thick they shouldbe, though.

I press my palms to the bed and push. My torso rises. Im actuallygetting up! It takes all my strength but I soldier on. The bed rocksgently as I move. Its not a normal bed, thats for sure. As I raise myhead higher up, I see the head and foot of the elliptical bed areattached to strong-looking wall mounts. Its kind of a rigid hammock.Weird.

Soon, Im sitting on my butt tube. Not the most comfortable sensation,but when is a tube up your butt ever comfortable?

I have a better view of things now. This is no ordinary hospital room.The walls look plastic and the whole room is round. Stark-white lightcomes from ceiling-mounted LED lights.

There are two more hammock-like beds mounted to the walls, each withtheir own patient. We are arranged in a triangle and the roof-mountedArms of Harassment are in the center of the ceiling. I guess they takecare of all three of us. I cant see much of my compatriotstheyvesunken into their bedding like I had.

Theres no door. Just a ladder on the wall leading toa hatch? Itsround and has a wheel-handle in the center. Yeah, its got to be somekind of hatch. Like on a submarine. Maybe the three of us have acontagious disease? Maybe this is an airtight quarantine room? There aresmall vents here and there on the wall and I feel a little airflow. Itcould be a controlled environment.

I slide one leg off over the edge of my bed, which makes it wobble. Therobot arms rush toward me. I flinch, but they stop short and hovernearby. I think theyre ready to grab me if I fall.

Full-body motion detected, the computer says. Whats your name?

Pfft, seriously? I ask.

Incorrect. Attempt number two: Whats your name?

I open my mouth to answer.

Uh

Incorrect. Attempt number three: Whats your name?

Only now does it occur to me: I dont know who I am. I dont know what Ido. I dont remember anything at all.

Um, I say.

Incorrect.

A wave of fatigue grips me. Its kind of pleasant, actually. Thecomputer must have sedated me through the IV line.

waaaait I mumble.

The robot arms lay me gently back down to the bed.

I wake up again. One of the robot arms is on my face. What is it doing?!