A gentle chime rang out across the craft, signaling morning for its one-man crew. In fact, the lights had been simulating dawn for quite a while already and the ambient temperature had been slowly rising. If the shades had been down, a sunny glow would be emanating from them as if Earth's sun were not lightyears away. Reed preferred a view of these far-flung stars. Stars he perhaps gazed at in wonder as a child. He watched them for another moment, before addressing the morning chime.
"Good morning, Delphi." he said, smiling at the air.
A woman's voice, sweet but cool responded over the speaker system, "Good morning, Reed. It is day 473 on board; November 21st at launch point. My readings show that you slept well: 7 hours and 28 minutes with one interruption."
Reed nodded as he sat up and rubbed his face. She always told him how he'd slept. He slept well every night. Delphi made sure he did. She adjusted the temperature and ambient sounds, lighting, even scents to help him fall asleep and stay asleep. He'd never been so rested in his life. Thinking on this, Reed inhaled deeply through his nose in the hopes of catching the scent of his breakfast, which Delphi often piped to his room to stimulate his appetite. But there was nothing. "Delphi," he murmured, pulling a shirt over his head, "what's for breakfast?"
She responded immediately, "Breakfast has not been prepared. You are scheduled for a complete physical first thing this morning."
"Can't I eat first?" Reed whined playfully as he stepped through the separating panel that was the door to his quarters.
"Please make your way to the medical bay," was Delphi's curt response.
The hum of the craft greeted Reed in the hallway of his small ship. Delphi could easily muffle this sound, but Reed preferred to hear it to fake birds, bland music, or silence. It was the reverberation of progress; as wonderful as the sound of his boots on the asphalt as he stepped towards his craft on day one. Since that successful takeoff, his feet had been mostly in slippers, as they were today.
The medical bay shone as white and immaculate as any operating room on Earth, except this one needed no doctor to run it; like most everything on the craft, Delphi ran it. The panel doors hissed closed behind Reed as he entered and the temperature of the room, he noticed, was warmer than that of the hallway. Near the center of the room was a chair that functioned as a dentist's chair, operating table, and occasional napping spot, white and chrome and well-padded. Above it, a large light and metal arm; and, beside it, a rarely used doctor's stool in front of a sleek computer system.
"Roosevelt Reed," Delphi's voice rang out over the speaker in gentle tones. "Captain, aged-"
"I'm the only one on the ship, Delphi. I know who I am," Reed interrupted, rolling his eyes. "And I've told you not to call me by my first name."
There was a silent beat before her voice returned over the speakers, "Yes, Captain." Another silent beat. "Please remove your clothing and recline on the table, Captain, so that I may begin the physical assessment."
Reed lazily kicked off his slippers and squirmed out of his clothing, slightly annoyed that he had only just put them on, and took his place in the chair. The seat was warm against his skin, another one of Delphi's little courtesies. As he settled in, the computer beside him sparked to life, showing a reading of his vitals. Reed took only a fleeting, uninterested glance at them as he slid his hands down the arms of the chair, allowing a strap to slide around his bicep and measure his blood pressure.
"Vitals: Normal," came Delphi's cool announcement. "We will proceed with a blood sample."
The cuff around Reed's arm tightened again, functioning as a tourniquet. There was a gentle whir as a syringe appeared from the arm of the chair. A deft movement and a quick prick later, the sample had been collected and Reed's arm released.
"Commencing physical examination."
Reed jumped a little as the chair began a slow recline. The arm above him lowered itself, splitting like his grandfather's old swiss army knife into what seemed like dozens of little tools and probes. No matter how many times he saw it, it always unnerved him. Even so, he allowed the little instruments to examine him, opening his mouth obediently, and keeping still as they gently inspected his ears and reflexes.
He sighed in relief as they retreated back into the main arm, signaling the end of the basic medical check-up. A quick scan of the computer screen told Reed that his tests were as perfect as ever and he began to try to sit up, though the chair did not move.
"Please relax, Captain," Delphi said. "This is your annual complete physical assessment. The tests have not been completed."
Reed slumped back into the chair with a huff, "Let's skip it, Delphi. I'm fine."
"Annual complete physical assessments are required, Captain." and with that unflinching response, the chair began another slow recline until Reed was fully horizontal. "Beginning palpations and evaluation of the epidermis."
The arm above Reed thrummed with power again as two large arms split from it, each equipped with a number of separate, rounded appendages that lowered themselves slowly towards his naked body. He couldn't help but squirm- a movement instantly recognized by Delphi.
"Please keep still, Captain."
But as the fingers of the machine pressed against his abdomen, Reed's body spasmed, triggering Delphi to employ the straps built into the medical chair.
"It is important that you remain still, Captain." Delphi said again as the straps tightened around his biceps, wrists, hips, thighs, and ankles, securing him into position. "Failure to complete the annual physical assessment will result in automatic emergency return to Earth."