Feersum Endjinn by Iain M. Banks

Feersum Endjinn by Iain M. Banks

1

Then, it was as though everything was stripped away: sensation, memory,
self, even the notion of existence that underlies reality—all seemed to have
vanished utterly, their passing marked only by the realisation that they had
disappeared, before that too ceased to have any meaning, and for an
indefinite, infinite instant, there was only the awareness of something;
something that possessed no mind, no purpose and no thought, except the
knowledge that it was.
After that came a rebuilding, a surfacing through layers of thought and
development, learning and shape-taking, until something that was an
individual, possessing a shape and capable of being named, woke.
Buzz.  Buzzing noise.  Lying on something soft.  Dark.  Try to open eyes. 
Something sticking.  Try again.  Light flash shaped 00.  Eyes feel open, un-

ark.  Smells; at once vital and decadent, lush with death-life, stirring some
memory, recent and forever-far at the same time.  Light comes; a small…
searching for the name of the colour… a small redness hanging in air. 
Move arm, hand coming up; right arm; noise of skin on skin, feeling
coming with it.
Arm, hand, finger: rising, positioning, eyes focusing.  Red patch of soft
light disappears.  Press on it.  Arm shaking, feeling weak; falls back to
side.  Skin on skin.
Click.
Noise of buzzing, something sliding again but not skin on skin; harder. 
Then light from behind/above.  The small red light has disappeared.  Then
movement; darkness above/around sliding back, face neck shoulders
chest/arms trunk/hands in light now; eyes blinking in light.  Light grey-
pink, shining down; blue-brightness through hole in curved cliff
above/around.
Wait.  Rest.  Let eyes adjust.  Songs around, wall around/above (not cliff;
wall), curving round, curving over (ceiling; roof).  Hole in wall where the
brightness is called a window.
Lie there, turning head to one side; another hole, glimpsed over shoulder;
goes down to ground, and called doorway.  Daylight there beyond, and the
green of trees and grass.  Floor beneath where lying; pressed earth, light
brown with a few small stones set in it.  The song is birdsong.
Get up slowly, arms back, resting on elbows, looking down towards feet;
woman, naked, colour of the ground.
Ground is quite near; might as well stand up.  Sit up further, swivel (dizzy
for a moment, then steady), then feet/legs over side of… of… tray thing that
has appeared out of hole in wall of building, tray thing lying on, and then…
stand.
Hold onto tray, legs feeling funny, then stand properly, unaided, and
stretch.  Stretch feels good.  Tray slides back into wall; watch it go, and
watch part of wall slide down to cover hole that was there, hole came out
of.  Feel… sadness, but feel… good, too.  Deep breath.
Breath makes noise, then cough makes noise, and… voice is there.  Clear
throat, then say:
'Speak.'
Slight startle.  Voice makes a feeling in throat and face.  Touch face, feel…
smile. 'Smile.' Feel something building up inside. 'Face.' Still building.
'Face smile.' And still. 'Face smile good alive hole red wall me look door
doorway sun garden, ME!'
Then the laughter comes, bursting out, filling the little stone rotunda and
spilling out into the garden; a small bird hurtles into the air in a commotion
of leaves and flies away upon a wake of song.

Feersum Endjinn by Iain M. Banks