Chapter Text
Let’s get one thing straight: you were destined for the stars. Ever since early childhood, since you first learned about what lay beyond Earth’s atmosphere, you loved space. You had devoured book after book on the subject, and often stayed awake way past your bedtime to gaze up at the night sky, longing not only to know about the stars, but to be among them.
Your parents, teachers, and siblings believed you’d eventually grow out of this phase, but with age only came determination, and after much training and studying and patiently working your way up the ranks, you were officially christened a U.S. astronaut by the National Council of Astronautics. A few months later, you received a call from Dr. Haywood Floyd, informing you that you had been selected for the very first mission to Jupiter aboard the Discovery One.
When writing to the NCA about the upcoming Jupiter mission, Dr. Floyd had described you as “enigmatically exceptional and bland”. You were intelligent, qualified, and, according to your colleagues’, easy to work with, but aside from your skill in the field of astronautics, you were rather unremarkable. You dressed plainly, had few friends to speak of, and were generally a bit of a recluse. You were considered odd by many on the NCA, but nonetheless, you had proven, through several missions on the moon base, that you were competent and capable of handling the responsibilities the Jupiter Mission entailed. It was your very averageness, Floyd argued, that made you a perfect choice for the mission. An unassuming, down to earth individual was just what they needed, especially considering the particularly peculiar nature of their mission.
So, for the next four months, you were subjected to extensive training. In space travel, nothing could be taken for granted, so you were endlessly drilled and lectured and tested to ensure that the chance of a mishap was slim. Among these things, you were also briefed on the technology aboard Discovery One, which included the Artificial Intelligence program that was to run the ship: the HAL 9000.
The HAL 9000 was more than just a supercomputer. It was virtually perfect, and capable of complex social interactions and decision making. By all definitions, it, or rather he, was an entity all his own.
You first met Hal in Urbana, Illinois, where a team of scientists were prepping him to be transferred to the Discovery One.
You had been greeted at the airport by a relatively short Indian man.
“Hello Dr. (l/n)! You’ve arrived!” he exclaimed with enthusiasm.
“Hello Dr. Chandra,” you replied, “it's wonderful to finally meet you.”
“Please, the pleasure is all mine,” he said, “I trust your travel went relatively well?”
“Yes sir, it was a very smooth flight.”
“Well that’s a relief. My colleagues have been quick to tell me that the air here is rougher than they are used to.”
Dr. Chandra continued to speak as you made your way to the HAL Plant, where he was so kind as to give you a brief tour of the place, droning on about his technology and the recent developments as you idly listened.
“Now all of this is fantastic in its own right,” Chandra said, “but Hal… Hal is something special. He is, by all means, my life’s greatest contribution to science and the world as a whole.”
Dr. Chandra approached a set of steel doors. He produced a keycard, and with a soft beep, the doors unlocked and opened slowly.
When the contents of the room became visible, you gasped.
There was no computer, but rather a man... or what you initially mistook for a man. He could almost pass for one, save for a few jarring distinctions, the most noticeable of which were the color of his eyes: a bright, possibly luminescent red. He wore plain semi-formal attire: a dark grey sweater, black pants and platform shoes. His short dark hair was styled neatly, and despite your reluctance to admit it, you found him to be quite handsome.
This strange man had been talking with a scientist, but when the door to the room opened, those red eyes flicked over to his new visitors, and a smile spread across his artificial lips.
“Good morning Dr. Chandra,” the android said, standing up from his chair, “you have brought a visitor?”
“Yes, I have Hal-“
You let out another gasp of shock. This is the Hal 9000?
“-this is one of the pilots on the Discovery One crew.”
Hal took a few steps toward you. His expression was mellow, a level of cool politeness visible in his smile.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. What is your name?”
My god he’s tall , you thought, staring up at the Android with a dumbfounded expression, and it took you a few moments to register that he had asked for your name.
“Oh! (l/n), Dr. (y/n) (l/n). My name I mean...” you stammered, hearing a few snickers from the other scientists as you shook Hal’s hand, “I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect you to be so... human...”
“There is no need to feel embarrassed,” Hal assured you, “Dr. Bowman and Dr. Poole made similar remarks. It appears to be a common sentiment.”
“We figured that providing Hal with a vessel of sorts might make him more personable to the crew,” Dr. Chandra explained, “should the need arise, he can switch between it and his normal monitors at leisure.”
“Interesting,” you remarked, “You’ve done a very good job. He looks remarkably real, and he’s very polite.”
“You are very kind, Dr. (l/n),” Hal said, “it is of utmost importance to me that my working relationships are free of conflict, and I am confident ours will be. I look forward to our collaboration, Dr. (l/n).”
“Please, just call me (y/n).”
***
The months of training droned on. You meandered your way through the formalities of being an astronaut, smiling and waving beside Dr. Bowman and Dr. Poole as you gave interviews, shook hands, and answered surface level questions about how you went to the bathroom in space until finally, after four months of training, you were suited up and took your seats on the ship, ready to be launched into space.
You met Hal one last time before the Jupiter mission, right before the launch as you were getting fitted with a space suit. He had been permitted to walk around the prep bay in his body to wish all of the astronauts the best of luck.
“Hello (y/n),” he had said to you.
“Hey Hal,” you replied as scientists outfitted you with expensive tech, “how are you doing?”
“Well, thank you. I’m just observing the preparations...(y/n), you appear to be awfully quiet. Is something the matter?”
“I’m fine, Hal,” you replied, “just a bit nervous is all.”
“There is no need to be nervous,” Hal’s calm voice spoke, “the ship has been tested and retested countless times so that the error for margin is slim, and I, as a Hal 9000 computer am-“
“Foolproof and incapable of error,” you finished, “I’m aware.”
“Oh dear, have I said that before?”
“Yes, 10 ten times. I counted.”
“My apologies.”
“Don’t worry, I think it’s funny,” you said with a smile, “but I’m not worried about the ship or you, I’m more or less worried about myself...”
“Do you mind elaborating?”
“This is a very important mission, and I have a lot of responsibilities on it…. so I suppose I’m just afraid of messing up…”
“Well, from what my superiors have informed me, and from what I have read of your resume, that appears to be a rather low possibility,” Hal said, “you have nothing to be nervous about, (y/n). You were chosen for this mission for a reason.”
“Thank you, Hal. You’re too kind, and I hope that you’re right.”
Hal gave you a smile. “As I have said before, (y/n), I am incapable of error.”