Project Hail Mary by Weir, Andy;

Long description:

Chapter 1

What s two plus two?

Something about the question irritates me. I m tired. I drift back to sleep.

A few minutes pass, then I hear it again.

What s two plus two?

The soft, feminine voice lacks emotion and the pronunciation is identical to the previous time she said it. It s a computer. A computer is hassling me. I m even more irritated now.

Lrmln, I say. I m surprised. I meant to say Leave me alone a completely reasonable response in my opinion ­but I failed to speak.

Incorrect, says the computer. What s two plus two?

Time for an experiment. I ll try to say hello.

Hlllch? I say.

Incorrect. What s two plus two?

What s going on? I want to find out, but I don t have much to work with. I can t see. I can t hear anything other than the computer. I can t even feel. No, that s not true. I feel something. I m lying down. I m on something soft. A bed.

I think my eyes are closed. That s not so bad. All I have to do is open them. I try, but nothing happens.

Why can t I open my eyes?

Open.

Aaaand . . . open!

Open, dang it!

Ooh! I felt a wiggle that time. My eyelids moved. I felt it.

Open!

My eyelids creep up and blinding light sears my retinas.

Glunn! I say. I keep my eyes open with sheer force of will. Everything is white with shades of pain.

Eye movement detected, my tormenter says. What s two plus two?

The whiteness lessens. My eyes are adjusting. I start to see shapes, but nothing sensible yet. Let s see . . . can I move my hands? No.

Feet? Also no.

But I can move my mouth, right? I ve been saying stuff. Not stuff that makes sense, but it s something.

Fffr.

Incorrect. What s two plus two?

The shapes start to make sense. I m in a bed. It s kind of . . . oval-­shaped.

LED lights shine down on me. Cameras in the ceiling watch my every move. Creepy though that is, I m much more concerned about the robot arms.

The two brushed-­steel armatures hang from the ceiling. Each has an assortment of disturbingly penetration-­looking tools where hands should be. Can t say I like the look of that.

Ffff . . . oooh . . . rrrr, I say. Will that do?

Incorrect. What s two plus two?

Dang it. I summon all my willpower and inner strength. Also, I m starting to panic a little. Good. I use that too.

Fffoouurr, I finally say.

Correct.

Thank God. I can talk. Sort of.

I breathe a sigh of relief. Wait ­I just controlled my breathing. I take another breath. On purpose. My mouth is sore. My throat is sore. But it s my soreness. I have control.

I m wearing a breathing mask. It s tight to my face and connected to a hose that goes behind my head.

Can I get up?

No. But I can move my head a little. I look down at my body. I m naked and connected to more tubes than I can count. There s one in each arm, one in each leg, one in my gentlemen s equipment, and two that disappear under my thigh. I m guessing one of them is up where the sun doesn t shine.

That can t be good.

Also, I m covered with electrodes. The sensor-­type stickers like for an EKG, but they re all over the place. Well, at least they re only on my skin instead of jammed into me.

Wh &s

A crowd-pleaser on the grandest scale. The Boston Globe

An engaging space odyssey. The New York Times Book Review

Dazzling. Vulture

Funny, well plotted, and full of surprises. The Guardian

A joy to read. Locus

The ultimate page-turner. Daily Mail

Weir spins a space yarn in a way only he can. Fans of his earlier works won t be disappointed. Newsweek

Andy Weir proves once again that he is a singular talent. Project Hail Mary is so fascinating and propulsive that it s downright addictive. From the first page as Ryland wakes up not knowing who or where he is, I was hooked. Taylor Jenkins Reid, New York Times bestselling author of Daisy Jones & The Six

Reading Project Hail Mary is like going on a field trip to outer space with the best science teacher you ve ever had and your class assignment is to save the world. This is one of the most original, compelling, and fun voyages I ve ever taken. Ernest Cline,