For the longest time, all Chris could do was lie on his back, sip broth, and not die.

Voices and faces blurred around him. When he tried to reach out to them, his suit clamped down and would not let him move.

When the suit did move, the result was always painful. A violent twist to seat his shoulder more firmly in place. A ripple down the torso to encourage the healing of cracked ribs. It was like living inside a physical therapist who was also a boa ...