New Beginnings: An Ooorah Anthology

torontojim's The Tabula Rasa of Kevin Smith

The Tabula Rasa of Kevin Smith

by torontojim

Kevin's eyes flew open. The echo of the thump was still in his head. The interior lighting was on low, and he could see some coloured dots on the panel above his head, but couldn't make anything out of what he was straining to see.

Stasis fugue — be patient, it'll pass. It happens to everyone.

The disorientation passed quickly, but not as quickly as the fuzzy vision.

And what the bleepity-bleep was that noise?

His vision seemed to be coalescing, but there wasn't anything for it to coalesce to. He started blinking, rapidly, causing some tears that helped remove the rheumy build up on his iris from the stasis stabilization gas. Finally, he could see his reflection in the curved glass cover of the stasis unit — but he couldn't see anything beyond it.

Are we there yet?

He tried to push himself up, but his wrists were still strapped down, as were his ankles and his forehead.

Well — bleepity-bleep. Why isn't someone opening this damn thing?

"Hello?" he said out loud, surprised at how loud his own voice was in the confined space. No sooner had he spoken, he realised that no one would hear him even if they were standing right next to the damn thing. He tried to lift his head but was reminded again that he couldn't when he felt the pressure of the strap across his brow.

"Hello!" he said a lot louder. There was no response and no sign of any movement.

"HELLO! IS ANYONE THERE?" he yelled as loud as he could, and then he waited.

Nothing.

Not even a whir or hiss from the stasis unit.

Kevin tried to look up over his head, but couldn't move his head enough to see any more of the panel above him. The damn strap was too confining.

The strap has to go.

He started twisting his head from side to side, hoping to loosen the strap. All he succeeded in doing was giving his forehead and Indian rope-burn.

Son-of-a-bleepity-bleep.

He tried to thrust his jaw and blow up over his face, to cool the rope-burn, but wasn't very successful. So he stopped fidgeting and thought the situation through.

One, I'm awake. That means that the machine woke me up. The machine only wakes you up if someone tells it to wake you up, ergo sum, there's someone out there that wants me to wake up.

Two, I can't see out of the unit. That means that the room itself is in darkness — there's no light out there. With over seventy stasis units to a room, it should be well lit. So, that's a tick in the bad column.

Three, I can't see the glow from any of the other stasis units, which is a very bad thing as well.

Four, I'm strapped down in this bleepity-bleeping thing, so that means that, five, my friend, if there really is no one out there, then you are royally bleepity-bleeping bleeped.

A pale face appeared right over his on the other side of the canopy.

Kevin screamed. He almost shat himself as well, but the sudden appearance scared him so bad that, luckily, his anus puckered up like Donald Trump's face.