Andy Weir

It’s like falling asleep. You can’t really do it if you concentrate on it too hard.

No?” I ask

“No,” he says in Eridian.

“So, ‘yes’?”

“No, yes.”

“Yes?”

“No. No.”

“Yes, yes?”

“No!” He balls a fist at me, clearly frustrated.

“Computer! Painkillers!”

“Additional dose available in three hours and four minutes.”

I frown. “Computer: What is the current time?”

“Seven-fifteen p.m., Moscow Standard Time.”

“Computer: Set time to eleven p.m. Moscow Standard Time.”

“Clock set complete.”

“Computer: painkillers.”

The arms hand me a package of pills and a bag of water.

“No?” I ask
“No,” he says in Eridian.
“So, ‘yes’?”
“No, yes.”
“Yes?”
“No. No.”
“Yes, yes?”
“No!” He balls a fist at me, clearly frustrated

“Fist-bump!”
“What, question?”

“Be careful,” says Rocky. “You are friend now.”
“Thanks,” I say. “You are friend also.”
“Thank.”

“You’re my friend. Heck, you’re my best friend. And pretty soon we’re going to say goodbye forever.”

We are team. We fix this. No be sad.

“Fist me!”
I push my knuckles against the xenonite. “It’s ‘fist-bump,’ but yeah.”

“What’s the cube root of eight?” the computer asks.

“Where am I?” I say again. This time it’s easier.

“Incorrect. What’s the cube root of eight?”

I take a deep breath and speak slowly. “Two times e to the two-i-pi.”

“Incorrect. What’s the cube root of eight?”

But I wasn’t 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.