[ WP ] As your dying wish , you ask that your body is jettisoned into space . Sometime later your body is recovered by aliens who are able to resuscitate you .

The shock hit me hard as my lungs filled with air. It felt like I'd just been kissed by a sledgehammer, my fingers digging into the fabric beneath me. For a while, my vision was so blurred I could n't make out more than a dull greyish-green colour infront of me. 
 
 I tried to cry out in pain, but my lungs were having none of it. Sweet, delicious air that burnt like acid was hoovered down my throat. It took a good few minutes before I could even strain out a muffled `` argh''. 
 
 As the room around me came into focus, I began to make out rough shapes. Some manner of lighting was over my head, and what I assumed was the ceiling, the same dull greeny-grey colour I'd been seeing, stretched out to the edges of my peripheral vision. I tried to turn my head, and my neck screamed at me like I'd slept on it badly, but for a hundred years. 
 
 Of course... I had. Well, I could n't be sure about the hundred years part. But I was awake; that much was clear from the god-awful pain covering every inch of my body. How did I get here again..? 
 
 Right, the program. The wristband... I strained my head and put what strength I could muster into raising my arm. My wrist was bare. Gone, then. 
 
 I was dying. I had been, anyway. Cancer, the doctor had told me. Incurable. Too far along. I knew I should have gotten checked sooner. Hell, getting checked *at all* before I started hacking up blood would have been an idea. 
 
 I had figured that was it. I'd made the arrangements, split up what little wealth I had in my will, and was ready to check out, much as I did n't want to. That was when my brother had approached me. He was always the smart one, and while he could n't cure me, he offered an alternative. The organisation he worked for had a program; mixing experimental cryogenics and extra-terrestrial contact. 
 
 Take those who are beyond our power to save, but who pose no risk to others. Preserve them in a cryogenic pod. Fire them into space. 
 
 On it's own, the idea sounded utterly barmy. But it was two-fold - one, it was a pretty cool way to go. Launched into space instead of rotting in the ground? Hell yeah, I was on board just for that bit. 
 Part two was the really intriguing bit though. Our technology still was n't close to good enough to even let us send explorers to the next nearest habitable planet - Gliese something-or-other, I think it was. But what if the'explorer' was neither conscious nor technically alive? At best, a civilisation with the knowledge to revive and heal you finds you, and learns of humanity in the process, potentially making contact in the distant future. At worst, you crash into a sun or black hole and nobody's the wiser. 
 
 I figured I had nothing left to lose, so I signed my name on the dotted line - all 37 of them, waivers and all - and next thing I know, I'm lying in what looks like a giant metal paracetomol capsule with the lid shutting over me. Then this. 
 
 As the pain dulled, I tried to pull myself up. I even managed, to a point. All I really did was pull myself up the thing I was lying on, but it gave me a better angle to view the room. My muscles ached with every motion. God knows how long they'd been idle, even cryo'd up as they were. 
 
 That's when I saw him. Her. It. Whatever they call themselves. Across the room from me - and it was n't that big of a room - facing ( I assumed ) the other way, doing something on a shelf-like protrusion on the far wall. From the metal-like clinking I heard, and my current location, I figured it was something medical. And promptly panicked. 
 
 I gripped the bed again as I looked around my surroundings. Small room. No bigger than a doctor's office back home. Which was an odd comparison for my brain to make, but as I looked around, I began to see why; aside from the sounds the room's other inhabitant was making, the room had a very'medical' feel to it. Overhead lighting, standardised colour scheme throughout, relatively bare save for what were either essential medical tools or some of the kinkiest sex-toys ever seen... even the thing with it's back to me looked like some manner of doctor, given his mono-tone gown. It was a dull purple as opposed to the traditional white of Earth's doctors, but I was hardly in a position to judge. 
 
 It was then that it turned around. I had n't been expecting a human face, but this was... well, about as odd as I could have expected, really. Its eyes were tiny - more like black specks in its face - and whilst I had thought it was bent over forwards, its head... or rather its face actually lay in the top of its torso; its arms protruding from either side of the face where ears should rightly be. 
 
 At first glance I thought I'd caught it in the middle of a meal; before I realised the mass of tendrils hanging from its `` mouth'' were n't some kind of alien noodle and were infact part of its body. As it turned to face me, they writhed of their own volition, and a few peaked my way; before the entire mass flailed about in my direction and the creature stepped back as though in shock. Maybe those eyes really were n't much use? 
 
 I stayed as still as I could, backing myself up into the wall behind my bed. The creature moved over, and as it came around the foot of my bed, I saw it did n't even have feet; rather a single slug-like'foot-tail' that it squirmed along the floor on. One of its three-fingered hands moved up to stroke the mass of tendrils on its face like one would play with a well-grown moustache or beard before letting them writhe in my direction again. It must use them for some kind of sensory purpose, I thought to myself. 
 
 I cleared my throat, which hurt more than I would like, and wondered how on earth I was supposed to initiate conversation with an alien species. Those smug buggers back on Earth had n't thought to include a handbook or anything. Then again, for all they knew I was just going to end up as space-jam on the surface of some asteroid... 
 
 ``..Hello?'' I asked through dry lips. No response. I tried again, raising my voice a little, and still nothing. Those... *tendrils* just kept wriggling at me as the creature moved slightly from side to side; probably inspecting me in whatever manner its species did so, not that that made it any less weird. 
 
 Maybe... I did n't see anything that resembled ears. Maybe their species did n't do sound? As weird as that sentence sounded in my head, any concerns were quickly drowned out by the surrounding aura of Bloody Weirdness that pervaded everything about my current situation. 
 
 So... I'm alive, definitely. I'm in an alien doctor's clinic, probably. With an alien, also definitely. Who is n't eating ramen... I think. And who ca n't hear me and may not even be able to'see' me in the strictest sense. 
 
 This was going to be interesting. Still, beats dying.
