The final, syringe like, piece of metal was removed from the flesh. The body was left to its own survival, finally independent of technological aid.
The man shivered and his eyes instantly opened wide, taking in the light of the stark white room. After a brief moment he decided to slowly lean up; he was expecting all manner of aches and disorientation after being out for what must have been an extremely long time. He did not know why he knew this, he just knew. Yet, as he leant up, everything was fine; no dizziness, no sluggishness and no pain. He felt great in fact.
He was lying back in a reclining chair; it was white, soft and made out of a fabric or a plastic. He could not tell, maybe both. As he leant forward the chair moved with him, it read every movement that every part of his body, in contact with the chair, made. He worried for a second that the chair would not let him stand up, that it would follow him everywhere, wrapping around him like a possessive bean bag. But there was no need to worry, it was a docile chair, and as his naked feet touched the warm floor, the chair let them take his weight and find his balance. It then drifted away from his back, and took on the form of a normal, non-jealous chair.
'Where am I?' he asked aloud to no one in particular. It just felt like the right sort of thing to say in a situation like this.
'You don't remember?' a voice replied. The reply had come from all around him; a soft gentle voice. So soft he had trouble determining if it belonged to a male or female. Deciding it was more important to find out where the voice was coming from rather than its gender he fished for a reply.
'Should I?'
'Well, it was hoped,' followed by a frustrated sigh. The voice was still non-directional, so too the sigh.
'Okay, where are you? Who are you? What do you want? And if I've forgotten to ask anything else, answer that too,' he asked.
Well why not? Nothing about the room was giving anything away. It just contained the chair, a table, a hanging globe as a light source and nothing much else. The walls of the room were white. Where they met the floor and the ceiling there was a curve instead of a corner, and traced on the surfaces were various chrome and black lines. He thought these must be the outlines to some sort of doors or windows maybe.
'Well, you are in the safest place I know. You could say that I am this place... and I want to help you. I feel I should add that you are not to worry, this is not a prison and you are not guilty of anything,' the surrounding voice replied.
'Can you let me out of this room then? And do you have any clothes?' He was not naked, but like his surroundings, he was minimally dressed: white shorts and a white T-shirt. He was not cold, but still felt exposed. As to the answers, typical he thought, as if anyone gets straight answers in a situation like this.
A slight hissing sound alerted him to the creation of a door in the wall, just as he had thought, that slid away between a section of black outlines. The door moved behind the wall with a quiet and calming hum, it revealed a smaller room that contained a rack full of clothes. He heard the hissing sound again and another door moved to reveal an additional room. This new room was much larger and seemed to be flooded with natural light.
After a quick visit to the wardrobe, white trousers and a white shirt felt the most appropriate choice, he headed into the larger room. It was the same style as the previous interiors and also contained a kitchen, dining area, lounge and a further area with tables and chairs. They were all set in a long gently curved hall. As he looked to his left, stretching the entire length of the room was a window. This too curved with the long open plan space and had the same customary black and chrome lines set in to it.
