His head hurt. He tried to remember why. Did he have a cold? You could get a cold from licking the handle of a shopping cart, but that seemed unlikely. He didn't lick things, except ice cream. And pens. Sometimes he licked the nubs of his pens when he was writing. Pens? Could it be pens? That didn't seem right, either. He tried to shift, but found he couldn't move.
"He's coming to."
"What? No, that's impossible! He has enough tranquilizer in him to take down an elephant!"
"I'm telling you he moved!"
"It's just a side effect of the procedure. Shut up and keep going! You know what Mr. Johnson said..."
No, no, no. Forget about the pens! Long, thin tubes, drilling- no! Where had he been? The lab. Yes, of course. He was always in the lab, wasn't he? Like a good little scientist. Top of his class at MIT. Mom had been so proud. Dad… well. Anyway. The lab. Rick had been there. And... Kevin? They'd been working on The Big Project and Caroline had stopped by.
Caroline.
As beautiful as wave-particle duality and twice as smart. And she didn't kill cats the way Schrödinger did. It was kind of her to come and visit them. She always added that personal touch, to let them know she cared. Mr. Johnson's recorded broadcasts were efficient and inspiring, of course, but Caroline...
Rick tried to take advantage of her kindness by flirting whenever she showed up. Fool. Rick didn't understand her the way he did. Didn't understand that Caroline was already married to Science. You didn't woo a woman like that with flattery and boasts about yourself. What a blowhard! No, the way to talk to her was with the language she understood best: Science! He always made sure he had some good trivia to share with her. As a Science Bowl Champion for four years running, he knew a lot of interesting facts. Facts like... like that one about the moon. What was it again? He tried to repeat it.
"There. Did you hear that?"
"No. And neither did you. Keep working!"
The moon. That's where it had all started going wrong. All those rocks. None of them had thought they could be dangerous. Well, unless you were an idiot like Rick and threw them around the room. Once they were ground up, though, they should have been safe. It was just tiny bits of silicon, iron, calcium, blood, and aluminum. Except there had been something else, too. They had soaked up all that unfiltered sunshine like swiss cheese. Cheese? Yes, that had to be right. Except it wasn't cheese that was dangerous. It was the sun. 330,330 times bigger than the Earth. Being outside in the sunshine for too long was bad for your health and the moon was out more than anyone else.
That was it. The moon rocks had made him sick. But he'd kept it a secret, hadn't he? They'd have taken him off the project if they knew, so he hadn't told anyone. And no one had noticed. No one ever noticed. But at least he still had his facts. Facts didn't ignore him. Facts didn't tease him about how they weren't a bouquet of flowers he could present to a pretty girl. Facts didn't lie.
He'd started keeping his notes on his arms. It was easier that way. More efficient. He didn't have to hunt for them on a desk that was getting harder to see. It wasn't like he needed to see the whole room in order to do Science, he just needed to concentrate on what was right in front of him.
Writing on his arm also meant no one could see how imprecise his writing was becoming. The arm bone connected to the shin bone and that gave him a leg up on the others. On Kevin, who had once written a paper on a theoretical new propulsion system to speed up interstellar travel but who now had trouble naming objects in space. And a leg up on Rick, too, with his irrational explanation of how bullwhips fit into scientific inquiry and his growing obsession with explosions. And his continued flirting with Caroline.
Caroline.
She always called him Richard, no matter how much he insisted on Rick. Ask me just one more time, she always told him. But then one day Rick had run out of One More Times. What had happened? He'd left. Transferred somewhere. Taken away by the Dutch. Dr. Dutcher? The Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operating System. He'd gone in and never come out again. There'd been others, too, hadn't there? The angry guy from the animal lab. And the food snob. It was hard to remember. His head hurt. Trepanning was an ancient medical treatment that involved drilling holes in the skull to release evil spirits. It was invented by an evil spirit hoping to make some friends. He had plenty of friends, himself. Lots and lots of them. No need for drilling holes in anything. Drilling. What was there about that? Why was he here, again? There was science to do and he should be doing it! What if Caroline showed up and he wasn't there?
Had someone found out about his headaches? Is that why he'd been taken away? No! He'd been so careful! Twelve years! He'd been with Aperture for twelve years! Twelve years of research! Of trial and error! Of cutting corners and cornering circles! Something roiled inside him.
"He's convulsing!"
"Don't touch him! We're almost done! This one might work better than the last ones!"
Brain uploading. The Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operating System! What had he done?! He hadn't agreed to this! He wasn't one of their damn lab rats!
Acid filled his mouth. Caroline! Caroline! They wanted to do this to her! He had to warn her! He had to-
"Now he's choking!"
"98%..."
He couldn't breathe. Humans could survive underwater, but not for long.
"Rrrrrrr..."
"Oh, god, it's trying to talk."
"That means it's working! Transfer at 99%..."
"Rrrrr..."
He was drowning. His chest ached with effort. Too much. Maybe there was one last fact that could save him.
"Rrrrrats cannot throw up."
"What?"
"The square root of rope is string."
"Damn."
"According to most advanced algorithms, the world's best name is Craig."
"Oh, god, he remembers his name."
"No, it doesn't. This isn't Craig, this is, uh... the Fact Sphere."
"The what?"
"Why the hell not? What does it matter? You hear me in there? Your designation is the Fact Sphere, got it?"
"The Fact Sphere is a good person, whose insights are relevant."
"Whatever. Just dump it with the others."
"I really thought we had it this time. What next?"
"Well, there was one more guy in that lab, wasn't there? The astronaut washout. Let's try him..."