“Mr. Anderson, Can you hear me?”

“Auditory cortex is lighting up. Awareness centers slowly coming around. Give him a moment. He's coming around.”

“Mr. Anderson? Wilton? Can you focus on my voice?”

I tried to groggily open my eyes but they felt as if they were made of lead. My disorientation was nearly overwhelming, and I wanted to drop back off into sleep. That nasally voice however persisted.

“Mr. Anderson!” It shouted this time. “Can you focus on me? I need you to look at me. Roy, how come fiber optics are not operational?” 

“Don’t know sir. Vision cortex is not lit, might be a bad connection. I’m not even getting a flicker.”

“Damn.” The voice swore. “Its easier when they can see. Might be a result of his accident.” 

Accident? Had I had an accident? I tried to talk, but I couldn’t get my tongue to work. I couldn’t even feel my tongue. I tried to think of my last memory, but only got a snatch of a vision, a bus, in the rain. Had I been hit by a bus? A concussion would explain my confusion, but I felt no pain. Actually, I felt nothing. A spark of panic flickered up but the voice cut through my thoughts, distracting me.

“Mr. Wilton Anderson. I am trying to help you so I need you to listen to me carefully.”

Those words got my attention. I quickly focused my addled mind on the voice to my left, ignoring the voice named Roy who interrupted.  

“Reasoning and awareness centers are lit, you have his attention. Oxygen consumption increased from neuron transmission, but at slow and steady rate. You have twenty minutes if he keeps this up.” 

“Good. Mr. Anderson, you had an accident and we are trying to give you a second chance. I want you to do something for me. I want you to visualize you are waking up from a deep sleep. What do you do when you first wake up? Whats the first thing you notice, and then what do you do?”

Well that was an easy enough task. I would notice if I was hot or cold I suppose. And then maybe a nice stretch. I wondered if this was a test to check to see if I was paralyzed. I felt a surge of dismay. I really had been hit by a bus if they were checking for paralysis. Jesus Christ. 

“Reasoning centers active. He’s thinking it over.” 

“Good job Mr. Anderson! Now, once you have completed that, I want you to pretend for me. Pretend you are waking up. Feel the temperature, are you hot or cold? Then focus on your body. How are you are positioned? Can you do that for me?”

I gave a mental shrug. It wasn’t like I could say no. I couldn’t even open my eyes. They must be swollen shut from an impact I could not remember. I carefully let my mind go blank and did as the voice asked. 

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Pretend I was waking up. Okay, first things first. Was I hot or cold?  Definitely cold I decided. A bone chilling cold. No wonder I could feel nothing. It was the sort of cold that robbed all sensation. I suppose that might be a good thing if a bus had ran me over. No pain at least. 

Time for the second task. Focus on my body. It took me a moment. It was hard to send out an awareness when I was so cold. It was similar to being out in the cold and having frozen fingers. You knew you had fingers, but getting them to bend or hold anything was difficult and they were slow to respond. But I eventually did it. I sent out my awareness to feel and take note of my body. I might as well get a sense of the damage anyway. 

“Sir! Success! Spatial awareness off the charts! He is exploring.” 

Something wasn’t right. I recalled a memory that rose unbidden. Me as a small child, about seven or eight, I couldn’t remember my age. It was unimportant. What was important was I had fallen out of a tree and landed on a pile of sticks and limbs and what I could remember best was the stick that impaled my calf. I could remember how my calf muscled danced and twitched at the sudden intrusion of this foreign object, and how the stick wiggled about from the contractions, but most importantly, how my mind had reacted. My mind had reeled in horror at this thing that shouldn't be there, with a force so strong that I had vomited, then and there, and how my mind would not, could not, let me look again.  

That was my reaction currently. My mind reeled in confusion and horror, and I quickly stopped exploring and sensing my body. I couldn’t go on. This was not my body! It simply wasn’t! It was foreign, cold, and not mine. I should’t be in here, it, whatever it was! I couldn’t think properly. I couldn’t even breathe properly. Wait, had I been breathing before? 

“Shit! Amygdala cortex off the charts! Oxygen intake nearly doubled! He keeps this up, we have no time left!”

“Mr. Anderson! Listen to me! I need you to not panic! We are trying to help you! Listen to my voice, let me help you! Please!”

In sheer desperation, I focused all I could on the voice. God, help me! What was this? 

“Reasoning centers lit again, not fully operational. Keep talking to him! Calm him down! Oxygen intake still increased. He's using it too quickly to keep up adequate circulation!” 

“Mr. Anderson, I’m not sure what made you freak out, but you are doing a great job. Keep it up. I know it seems weird, but I want you to do me a favor. Try and roll forward for me. Can you do that?” 

Roll forward? What on earth did that mean? Roll forward? Who rolls forward? Why not walk forward? Or step forward? Even a lean forward would have made more sense. No. No something was not right. This was not my body. I tried to speak again, but nothing came out. I was blind and mute, stuck in something that wasn’t mine! The wrongness of it was simply sickening and overwhelming.  

“We are losing him! Oxygen nearly gone! He’s full blown panic!”

“Mr. Anderson! Please! Help us help you! Do as I say! Focus all you can, and roll forward! Panicking will not help anyone right now!”

I couldn’t focus. My mind was in a state of complete shock and horror, and all I wanted to do was pass out. Indeed, it seemed like I was about to pass out. Things began to get fuzzy, and I couldn’t think clearly. I could only listen to the voices around me as everything began to fade away. 

“Oxygen gone, all centers are going dark. You have maybe a minute of awareness and reasoning left.”

“Ah screw it. They never listen at this stage. Let’s scrape out this brain and get it back to the morgue and to it’s owner. Sorry Robotix team. Maybe the next one. We are on the verge of a breakthrough I just know it!  Let's get a better oxygen exchange rate system in place asap. A human mind controlling a robot. Imagine the possibilities!”

These last words resonated in my fading mind. Morgue? Brain? I was dead? I had been dead? How was this even possible? My last thoughts as they scattered slowly into disarray was of how I would rather be dead than in this foreign machine. I wanted no second chances in this hell.