Chapter Text
“Eye movement detected.”
A voice of a woman—the first thing I hear. It’s muffled along with what I could only make out to be low machine whirring.
“What is two plus two?”
The voice speaks again, much clearer this time. It sounds as monotonous and modulated as the first time. Must be computerized.
Also, what a weird thing to ask a person who'd just woken up—oh, wait. It's a cognitive test. I must be waking up from maybe a coma. That would explain the mix of soreness and numbness I'm feeling all over my body. Wait—my body.
I try to move anything I can—my eyelids, my fingers, my toes—nothing’s moving. I start to panic. Is this sleep paralysis? Why is everything so dark? Why can’t I see my computer sleep demon?
The numbness in my eyelids starts to fade. Let’s take another shot at opening them.
C'mon, open…
They slowly, weakly lift upon my command. Dim lights finally come into view as my shaky eyelids pry themselves open. I take in my surroundings, blinking once or twice in the process. I can perceive shapes and colors, but everything's blurry.
“Cognition assessment. What is two plus two?”
The computer lady asks again.
“Frrlllch,” I say—wait, I meant to say ‘Four’.
“Incorrect.”
What?!
What the f—? Can’t I speak?!
I try again, a little slower this time. “Fffrrrllch!” My eyes widen at the inconceivable sound that left my mouth.
“Incorrect.”
That's when I finally felt it—the tube lodged in my throat—an Endotracheal Tube. I gasp at the realization. “Hyukhll!”
“Breathing detected.”
Fuck, wait—!
“Hnggh!” I gurgle as I struggle to move away from the blurry blobs of shapes moving closer to my face. I blink fast, desperately trying to regain my vision at least before I presumably get extubated by whatever was moving toward me. I’m not mentally prepared to be extubated!
Then it moved—the tube. A very uncomfortable feeling that made my heart beat faster.
“Heart rate elevated.”
Yeah, no shit!
“Hnnggglllh!” I gurgle again as the ETT is slowly being pulled out of my throat—the sensation is not a fun experience. At. All.
It’s disgusting—the tube scratching against my throat! It’s like my insides are being violated into puking out this tube. I can feel the gag reflex coming, but the tube hasn’t fully come out yet. My heart’s racing. My vision’s starting to clear. My panic’s rising. I feel hot. I must be sweating buckets right now—
WHOA! WHAT THE HECK IS THAT?!
I can finally make out what the blob of shapes moving toward me was. And it’s a pair of robot arm-like structures now extubating me! I want to scream, but that probably isn’t a good idea, not when my throat is being brutally harassed by evil mechanical arms.
The last of the tube is finally yanked out. I felt it tug on my uvula a little. That was what triggered it. On reflex, I turn my head to the side and—
“What is your name?”
“Bleurgh—urgh.”
—I puke.
At least I’m not completely immobilized now, and can move my head. Only now do I fully recognize that I’m lying on a bed as I watch my clear puke dripping onto what looks like cushion-lined floors.
“Incorrect.”
I shoot my head up menacingly at the metal armatures above me. This computer lady is getting on my nerves. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it could jumpstart my nerves back to normal, so I can start moving again.
“What is your name?” It asks again.
I open my mouth to reply, annoyed with its constant questioning, but then I realize— What is my name? I don’t know it. Oh my god! Who am I?! Why don’t I know my name?!
I bend my head down to scan my body.
What the heck?
I mentally laugh exasperatingly and in disbelief at the sight of my completely naked body wrapped in a weird, almost see-through full-body rubber suit and connected to numerous tubes. What in the world is going on?
“Body movement detected.”
I pay no mind to the computer’s voice anymore as I continue to examine my body and think about what kind of situation I’m in. I try to raise my arms as the anesthesia starts to fade down the rest of my body. This is good. I’ll be able to get up soon.
I can’t see much that’s going on under this rubber suit, but I can tell there's a bunch of tubes connected to me, everywhere—an IV, a catheter, and a rectal tube. And I’m covered in electrodes— Why am I using all these medical terms for things? Am I a doctor? Where are the doctors and nurses? I must be really sick to be hooked up to all this life support. But how can that be? I feel fine as a fiddle! Sure, I feel groggy and gross, but I don’t see any sign of injury, nor do I feel any real pain.
I turn my attention to the small room I’m in. Those nasty robot armatures are right above me, hitched up to the middle of the ceiling. The walls, floors, and ceiling are all lined with soft, white cushions. And I see small vents on the walls, clearly letting out some type of gas. Must be for sterilization. Am I being quarantined? In a high-tech medical bay?
“Alright…” I mumble, my voice weak and hoarse, as I did my best to prop myself up with my shaky, feeble—probably atrophied—arms. But I instantly land back down on the bed with an ‘oof’ as those damned robot arms push me back in bed.
“Please remain in the medical platform. Muscle function has not yet been restored.”
I let out a deep, long huff.
Man, I just wanted to sit up.
“Cognition assessment. What is two plus two?”
This bi—
“Four, damn it!” I practically cough up. My throat still feels sore as hell.
“Incorrect.”
“Ugh!” I roll my eyes, aggressively sinking into the bed, frustrated and defeated. I need someone to tell me what's going on. Where's the call button for the nurse?
As if the computer can hear my thoughts, the robot arms begin moving toward me again, removing all electrodes and tubes attached to my body.
“You have been in a medically induced coma,” the computer explains as the armatures continue carefully extracting everything. “You may experience memory loss, difficulty speaking, and—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Induced coma?!”
I don’t bother letting it finish talking. Once the tubes are all out, I take off the bed with full force. Something doesn’t feel right.
I successfully get off the bed, still in the unzipped rubber suit, but my legs are still too weak and wobbly. I can barely stay upright, holding on to a nearby wall for dear life.
The arms quickly try to chase after me.
“For your own safety, please return to the medical platform.”
I dodge, but I lose balance and fall flat on my butt. Good thing the floor is soft.
I quickly scan for some sort of exit. There—a ladder! I crawl over to the foot of the ladder, desperately trying to get away from the evil robot arms. It takes a lot of strength and effort to limp up on each of the ladder’s rungs, but I eventually make it to one of the three platforms that were sticking out from a wall.
I stop in my tracks and examine the first platform. It looks like my bed, except it's completely bare. The whole mattress and its sheets are nowhere to be found. It puzzles me.
I glance up at the second platform. I assume it's another bed. What a weird setup for a hospital. Could it be empty too? I climb higher to check. Oh! It looks like there’s a person under that white sheet. A fellow patient? I reach out slowly to pull up the sheet.
Now, why are you all the way up here—?
I pause my train of thought as I stare, shocked, at the corpse of a woman. She didn’t look too decayed, but something tells me she’s been gone for a while. I gently set the sheet back down, covering her face. I glance up at the last platform above it. I’m going to assume it’s another dead body. I don’t need to climb up higher just to check.
Why…weren’t these bodies moved to the morgue? I think to myself as I climb back down the ladder, still keeping close to the wall so that Arm-mageddon over there can’t detect me.
I sit down on the soft floor, leaning my back against the wall, catching my breath. That exhausted me. I scan the small room again. There really isn’t any other way out except up. I pull my head back to glance at the ceiling, which I now realize is incredibly high. At the very top, I notice a round opening. My brows furrow as I tilt my head in puzzlement. I close my eyes and let out a deep sigh. Looks like I've got no choice. I want to doze off, but I resist. I need to find someone—anyone who could tell me where I am and what happened to me.
I zip up this horrendous rubber suit, which has already gotten moist from all my sweat, and stand back up, holding onto the ladder’s handles. I take one wobbly baby step at a time on each rung, as I use all my upper body strength to carry me up. I get to the top and peek my head into the round opening of what I’ve observed to be a large hatch door. I pull myself out of the hatch and steady myself on the ground of this new floor. The hissing of the vents, low like a hum, scares me a little. This place doesn’t look like a normal hospital.
I slowly look around me, scanning my new surroundings as I mindlessly hug myself, before hesitating to take a measly step forward.
“…Hello?” I cautiously call out, my voice still raspy as it scratches on my sore throat. It echoes a little through the empty metal-lined corridor.
This is creeping me out.
After a few seconds of quiet, I assume no one's coming for me. My eyes dart around again, giving the corridor a once-over, just to check if nothing’s too out of the ordinary. Lights and wires are lining the ceiling. This floor is brighter than the medical bay I was in earlier. To my right is a short hallway to a small and almost dimly-lit room with no door. And to my left is a big hexagonal-shaped window that shows the night sky—wait. A clue! I just need to walk closer and take note of any buildings or landmarks or—
Again, my assumptions fail me. Now, just inches away from me, behind the 7-foot hexagonal window, is an endless black void covered in tiny white dots. At first glance, it looked like a backdrop of outer space taped to the window, but no. I’m actually in outer space. I blink a few times, testing to see if my eyes were messing with me. I don’t think they are. And because I’m still not convinced—because it would be a crazy notion for me to be in outer space—I slowly bend forward, peeking down at one of the windowpanes. My breath hitches from a nervous laugh. That’s definitely an infinite void of space.
Staring at the horrifying view of almost nothingness, I feel a tingling from my knees to my feet—like the black sky is pulling me forward, and I'm about to fall right into it.
I take a step back. I’m trembling. My heart is hammering in my chest, and suddenly I find it difficult to breathe. I take a few more steps back, away from the window. I still can’t believe this. No. This can’t be real.
I’m clutching myself tighter, as if that would comfort me, as I try to catch my breath. But I can feel the tingling in my hands now. My vision is blurring again. Oh no… I’m hyperventilating. Quick! Calm down! Deep breaths! Wait— No! What do I—?
“You’re awake—!”
“AHHH!!!” I shriek and jolt as a gruff male voice suddenly appears behind me.
“BAH!” He screams with me, startled by my reaction.
I violently spin around to meet my scarer. It’s a long-haired, bearded man wearing a bizarre outfit. A navy blue beanie and a fox mask on top of it, a pair of glasses crookedly sitting on the bridge of his nose, a white half-zipped hoodie over a red ‘Ah! - the element of surprise’ graphic tee, some khaki cargo shorts, crew socks, and a very dirty pair of white sneakers. He looks like a hobo.
On reflex, he puts his hands up above his head, showing me he means no harm. But I keep my guard up—my eyes wide and my brows deeply furrowed.
“I— I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” he stammers, just before letting out a deep, calm breath as he slowly lowers his hands down to head-level and does the Vulcan salute— Why do I know that term?
“I come in peace,” he says.
Before I think of a response, I consider his claim. My eyes drift from his face to his shoes, then back to his face. I mean, he’s obviously human. So, why did he say that like he was an alien? My heaving begins to slow down as I relax my face, while I study his. He slowly nodded, smiling sheepishly with relief at my calmer expression, almost as if he's saying, ‘That’s it. You got it’. My brows twitch, much to my chagrin. Seriously? He’s acting as if I’m some kind of wild animal he managed to talk down.
He straightens up and points his hands to his chest.
“My name is Grace. I am…a middle school Science teacher at Grover Cleveland Middle,” he begins. But I can't fathom the unseriousness of this man introducing himself like we're not lost in the middle of nowhere, probably planets away from Earth. Well, at least I'm pretty sure I come from Earth!
So, I blink and glance to the side for a split second to avert his gaze. I can't explain how awkward this interaction is becoming. Also, a middle school Science teacher? What's a middle school Science teacher doing up here in space looking like…that?
“Just like you, I woke up dazed and confused. I don't know much about who I am and what I'm doing here. My memories have taken a hike, and only a few of them are coming back in bits and pieces. But only if I try really hard to recall. Which, actually, is something I do—not—recommend. Since it can get pretty physically painful to do so. Like, gah! It gives me headaches—”
I blink again, not knowing how I should be reacting to his explanation. My eyes slowly drift down to his shoes again. I'm practically disassociating a little from our…one-sided conversation.
“—But, uh, yeah. Enough about me. I'm talking too much. Um, so what's your—? I mean—do you, by any chance, have your memories intac—? No. Do you, um, remember why…we're here…? Per chance?” Grace rambles, stumbling on his words as his voice shifts into an almost squeaky pitch. I look at him, befuddled.
I take a deep breath and open my mouth, genuinely wanting to reply back to the volumes he'd just spoken. But much to my dismay, I really have nothing to say that would help any of us. So I press my lips into a straight line, shaking my head and lowering it. I feel bad for leaving him hanging.
He claps his hands together—once—as he chuckles flatly. I gaze back up at him, studying his expression. I can tell he's hiding his disappointment behind that smile.
“Great. Well, isn't this just peachy?” He asks rhetorically, sarcasm seeping through his tone, then he begins pacing around in circles and throwing up gestures to show his frustration. “Two lone amnesiacs stuck in a spaceship, light-years away from Earth, and with no recollection or so much as a hint of what their reason is for being here! It's like something out of a bad sci-fi novel,” Grace fusses, almost muttering that last part.
Wait. ‘Light-years?’ We’re that far?
He stops in his tracks with his hands on his hips, his back facing mine. All I can do is watch him, as I can’t think of anything appropriate to say.
From the looks of it, he's been awake far longer than me. He must've been waiting for me to wake up, hopeful that I might have the answers to all his questions. And I can't imagine how he must've felt having to go through memory loss, in a strange place, far away from home, with no conceivable way of turning back, and all on his own. That must've been devastating.
“Grace?” I call out to him, almost absentmindedly, my voice beginning to recover. I didn't really have anything prepared to say after that, I just… I don't know.
I notice his shoulders tense a bit at my mention of his name. It must have sounded foreign to him after having not heard another human voice in a long while.
He spins back to face me, trying to act casual, right before straightening up and rubbing the back of his neck, ashamed.
“I'm sorry,” he apologizes, eyes darting everywhere but on me. “That was… I didn't mean to sound mad at you. You're fresh from a coma, and I'm here bombarding you with—all this…” He drops his hand to his side, his gaze now back on mine. “I'm really sorry. I just hoped—”
“It's alright,” I cut him off, maybe a little too insistent than I intended, so I correct my tone into something more gentle. “We're alright,” I reassure him, smiling softly, a little exhausted.
He blinks once, and I notice the slight crinkle in between his eyebrows. But he still returns my smile with his own bashful crooked one.
We stay like this for a while until his eyes glance down to my torso, and his smile disappears instantly as he looks away. Instinctively, I look down at myself to see what might've made him react that way. I'm still in the rubber suit, which I remember is nearly see-through. Reflexively, my arms cover up my chest, even though I'm quite sure he can't clearly see anything through the suit’s material.
Grace clears his throat, his whole body now facing the other way.
“Let's, uh, get you some clean clothes, yeah?” he suggests before walking toward the hatch I came out of earlier and climbing down the ladder. I'm not sure if that meant that I should follow him, but I do so anyway.
We pass the four platforms again in the med-bay. A brief eerie feeling washes over me as we pass by the two corpses.
Then, he leads me down another ladder below this room, to a messy storage room with all sorts of stockpiled bags and boxes of equipment. I hop off the ladder and walk carefully toward Grace, who was at the other end of the room rummaging through bags, as I avoid all the clutter on the floor.
“Sorry about the mess. A lot of what you see on the floor is mine. I, uh, was having an identity crisis,” Grace explained, chuckling weakly, never turning away from the bags he was going through.
I nod at him in understanding, even though he doesn't see me. I don't quite have a clear picture as to what he meant by that, but I think I can imagine him trying to look for clues in all of these clothes and stuff to try to figure himself out. Perhaps that's why he looks the way he does now with his weird and mismatched outfit. He's still trying to rebuild his identity. I wonder if I'd go through that same thing too…
After a while, he pulls away from the stash of bags with a white duffel-looking bag in his arms, walking back toward me.
“This one’s yours. You'll find a lot of your personal belongings in there: clothes, photos, the whole lot,” he grins slightly, polite, as he hands me the bag. It's quite heavy. On it, I read a label that says ‘Joseph’. I'm puzzled that Grace says this belongs to me, when it has—and I'm pretty sure it’s—a guy’s name on it.
I can hear Grace's chuckle at my confused expression, so I look back at him, just about to ask, when he beats me to it.
“I promise you, it's yours,” he reiterates. He puts his hands on his hips, amused, when I can only give him a raised brow.
“How do you know that? Didn’t you lose your memories too? You could be ‘Joseph,’ and I could be ‘Grace’,” With my voice still a little flat, I pointed out accusingly, but there wasn't any real fire to it. I just wanted to tease him into admitting himself.
Which works when his initial amused expression quickly switches into something more nervous and tense. He glances to the side to avert my gaze just before responding hesitantly, “I, uh, sorta…snooped around you and the other passengers’ stuff when I was trying to find out who I was… Sorry.”
He looks back at me apologetically, with his lips tucked into a deep straight line.
My lips slowly curve into a grin, and I let out a small breathy chuckle through my nose.
I shake my head slightly, “It’s alright. I get it. I just hope you didn't find anything embarrassing in here.”
“Nahh, I think you're good,” he waves vaguely, either he’s assuring me it's fine or he’s trying to casually play me out of probing further into his snooping. “I'll point you to the ship’s bathroom, then, uh, if you need anything, I'll be back down here—” he sourly looks back down at all the clutter on the floor. “—Tidying things up,” he finishes.
I nod in understanding as he takes my duffel bag and slips on the straps over his shoulders like a backpack. I follow him back up the two ladders, into the corridor where he found me, then into what I earlier thought was a small room but is actually a long corridor with walls lined with all sorts of buttons and machines in glass casings. At the end of what Grace tells me is the data corridor, there is a path on the left and a large automatic door headed north, which he explains leads to the systems corridor. To our right is a larger version of the hexagon window I found earlier.
My heart did a stutter-step at the sight of the black and endless sky outside. Cutting through my thoughts, before I could spiral again, was Grace’s voice.
“So, this path leads to the ship’s really huge lab,” he points to the path on the left. “But if you head over here, the first door you see on the right is your destination.”
I glance from the direction he was pointing to back at him. “Thanks,” I almost mumble. The adrenaline in me is starting to deplete. Hopefully, I can manage to freshen up before knocking out unconscious again.
He takes the bag off his shoulders and carefully hands it to me.
Pointing with his thumbs, he tells me he's heading back to the storage room. I nod and watch him for a while as he leaves, and I think to myself.
I'm glad I'm not alone in this, and… I hope I can be of help to Grace in any way I can.
I turn to my right, where the window is, as if to check for the last time that I really am where I think I am—outer space. As I stare, there's a memory trying to make its way to the surface, but not quite making it through at all. It’s like that feeling of having a thought at the tip of your tongue.
But nothing comes to mind. I shake my head as if to rattle my brain into resetting.
Okay, “Joseph”.
I try out the name for myself in my head, but it only scratches me the wrong way. Like, who would name their daughter Joseph?
Okay. Shower first, questions and emotional spiral later, I tell myself as I head toward the path Grace pointed out.