Plants or People - The Mycen

iQueer in Space - Chapter Four

 

Day Four/Five – Trias/Spaceship Errand - 21^st August 2449

Answers, Without Question

“Do I want to ask what it was I ate at that dinner of sort?” I asked.

“No,” Rinca said, “but it shouldn't bother your digestive track. It's molecular make-up is similar to squid.”

We had a quiet dinner with Luska in his wooden hut and said our goodbyes with more bear hugs. We moved quickly back to the shuttle where the other two crew members were waiting for us. The shuttle was loaded with several clear containers, some filled with purple bugs that looked like bottle caps and other containers held bushes of green foliage.

Those samples are thin. No No No, things exist seven times in seven ways and here the seventh is erased. Out of the corner of my eye the containers with the foliage looked empty, and my stomach did feel queasy. When I turned and looked though, each was filled as before.

Lift off was simple and the captain let me sit near the window. As we gathered height I felt uneasy in my gut again and my eyes twisted. The thoughts from my optical nerve started to sparkle and haze my vision. Those concrete buildings weren't there before.

The village was gone and the buildings had turned into towers with lights beeping and zooming off them. I looked harder. The buildings faded and the trees and cabins were there as before. Just like the foliage. The medicine is gone, medicine absorbed through the liver and the liver is good. The trees are dead, the trees never existed. The trees grow high. The towers were there, the liver let them through.

Soon I was back on board the Errand. Familiar ground, not ground, ground over space I shouldn't be in space, I remembered. With the drug wearing off I was becoming anxious again. A few crew members met us at the hatch to help unload the cargo. I could still see it was there and wasn't there. Restero told you, time meddling. Yes Yes Yes. Those things existed now but before there had been buildings in there place. Your thoughts have more meaning in space. Seven meanings, and my thoughts droned on inside my head. They weren't normally this bad, I think I was withdrawing from my normal medication too.

“Ostra,” said the captain, “show Troy to his quarters and prepare him for the shifting.”

“How long til the Shifting?” Ostra a male crew member asked.

The Captain pushed the golden button on his chest, “Fifteen minutes and counting til Shifting. Begin Shifting procedures.”

“Ostra nodded, his small head at the Captain who turned and went back to the cargo.

“This was,” Ostra said to me, and I followed him down many a short hall, staring at the back of his head. He was the same height as me and his dark hair was chiselled in a perfect way across his neck., the rest was slicked to the side. 1950s prep in a purple onsy, I thought. He took me into one of the small rooms me and Rinca had entered earlier that I now assumed to be an elevator of a kind.

“Deck 18, Red Section,” he said. The doors to the room quickly opened again, and it was impossible to know how many decks we had travelled and whether we had gone up or down or right or left. More short corridors, the occasional lit screen. Finally we stopped at a metal door that said 7G, Ostra walked into the room which had a small bed of sorts, purple regulation of course, but bigger and with more sheets than the one in the medical alcove. There was also a desk with a screen, which was blank at the moment and my iPod sat next to it. Ostra was standing there letting me take it all in. His eyes were brown, and he made me think he looked like me but neater.

“What's Shifting?” I asked him.

He paused a long while, thinking, before answering, so I stared at the floor and thought about the way he looked, little and awkward, but I bet he was muscular under that purple, I bet he had a dancers body. I was to anxious to look him in the eyes. He looked only a little older than me.

“Shifting is the term we use when we use our Faster than light drive. It's a kind of way of warping space. The hard part isn't moving faster than light, we kind of just make giant jumps. The drive is more about reducing the relative time lag. Eisteins theory of relativity...”

“Ok,” I said, “I get it. How do I have to get ready.”

“You don't really, you can lay down or stand, it doesn't really matter. To you it'll seem suddenly we're here and then we're they're. You may not notice even if you open a view side on your wall,” he said, noting my puzzlement, “It opens the view port, or window of your wall, you have a space view in this section.”

“Oh, Ok.

“The only thing you can't do it use electronic devices, not that you'd be able to, everything is shut down. Shifting and electronics don't mix, which is why I have to ask if it is ok if I shut down in here?”

“Shut down?” I asked.

“I can go into the hall way if you prefer?”

“How can you shut down?”

“I'm an android,” Ostra said, “did the Captain not tell you?”

No, the captain did not, the captain has not told me much, the computer has not told me much. I know nothing of where we are, what we're doing. There are seven people watching. No one is watching. Watching. The paranoid twistings of seven sevens. I chanted the seven sevens and Ostra just looked at me.

“It's fine,” I said, “You better be quick about it, it must be time to shift soon.”

Ostra sat on the end of my bed and closed his eyes and stopped moving. Seconds later the lights went out. Then it felt like someone reached inside my head and pulled at my brain. It didn't hurt but it seemed like I was stuck and staring at Ostra for hours, days almost, but I had no thoughts, only the sense of time passing. It stopped and the lights came on.

“Shifting complete,” the computers voice rang over the loud speaker.

Ostra didn't move so I went up and poked him.

“Hello,” I said, “Hello.”

An android, not moving. I wonder if androids have bits. Do they choose their sexes or are they assigned? I wonder how they think. How many layers of thoughts and calculations must it have, seven times seven times seven times seven times seven, and I couldn't stop that thought for a while, it repeated and repeated. My body filled with adrenaline and anxiety over took me. I braced my hand against Ostra to steady myself and tried to breathe. My anxiety pills. I had them in my bag but are they in this room. Ostra's eyes opened. I felt more anxious now he was awake, or on, or whatever it's called. Anxious because I had realised an attraction I had for him. Pills, Pills, Pills. The thoughts were changing but still churning out over and over. My head was overloading and I swear so much time had passed and I was just staring in the dark. I fell onto the bed and tried to breathe.

“Medical to deck 18 cabin 7G,” Ostra said. He'd called someone with his golden button and he kneeled next to my bed and reached for my hand, I pulled it away. I was so anxious in that moment, I was thinking do androids have sex dreams, and I had my own dreams of him. This was all too much at that point. Doctor Symms entered then and gave me a shot. The thoughts grew thin and I felt calm. This shot was tastier. Different than the other, similar, but more calming. I reached out for Ostra's hand.

“I researched that drug you told me about and discovered one of my plants could be used to synthesise benzodiazepine, so I added it to the shot,” said Dr Symms, “I suggest you sleep now and I'll get the computer to run some scans.”

I let go of Ostra's hand and sat up. “There was so much time doctor. There were not thoughts, but during the Shifting, I felt the hours pass into days. I couldn't move or speak or think, but I'm calm now. I'm calm now.”

Dr Symms didn't give anything away and just told me to lie down and sleep. So I did.

Ostra came to visit the next day. I don't think I was confined to my quarters but I'd got the computer to play my ipod and charge it wirelessly somehow, so I hid and listened to my music. The doctor came and gave me another shot, so my thoughts were tiny and I just sat and listened to music.

The door had a bell, Doctor Symms hadn't used it but Ostra did. I didn't know what the ding was at first but when it was made again I took a guess and said enter. The door opened and Ostra was standing there.

“I hope it was alright for me to visit?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, “come sit.”

I left the music playing and Ostra commented on it, calling it retro, and I suppose it was to him, but I didn't want to get into a general conversation with him right now. He had shown me some kindness, and he didn't seemed to be linked to the main computer who wouldn't answer my questions, and even in my calm state I wanted to know answers.

“What was World War Three about?” I asked.

“Idealisms,” he said.

“Yes, but what ideals?” this was the question that worried me, worried me enough that I wanted an answer while I was artificially calm and could take it in and think about it later.

“I don't know if I can answer that question. There are regulations about giving out cheat sheets to past timers.”

I side step the main issue for now, but I wouldn't let go of it so easily.

“So there have been others from the past? I'm not the first?”

“Not the first, not even the first on this ship,” Ostra said, and he looked up at me and tried to catch my eyes from where he sat on my bed. I caught his gaze, I didn't know how human an android could be but questions seem to flow from the eyes, I learnt that from listening when I had been put in hospital once. The other patients always answered with their eyes first.

“But you are the most interesting,” he said.

He was flirting, and the thoughts I had had slowly appeared one by one like clouds at the top of my mind. It might be nice to kiss an android.

“What happened to the others,” I asked, I needed answers right now not comfort, that I had learnt to live without.

“They got sent back,” he said, “you're only the third.”

“Thankyou Ostra,” I said, and reached out my hand. He reached out with his and I caught his gaze again, “But I need to know about the World War.”

He seemed to breathe out, almost sigh, I wondered if he gained power or energy of some kind from the air, or if it was a mere tactic his body did to make him appear more human, to give him time to calculate what he could tell me.

“At the time it wasn't called a war, it was called the Great Conversion, and you wouldn't of survived it. It was after your time. You'll be safe if they send you back.”

His hand began to get wandering fingers and went up my arm to my elbow, my shoulder, my neck. Next thing I new, we were closer, we were kissing and the chemicals made me calm, made me euphoric, made it all feel nice.

Then I knew, androids do have bits, very realistic bits indeed.

iQueer in Space - Chapter Three

Day 2 - Spaceship Errand/Trias - 20th August 2449

Temporal Insights.

 

   Rinca escorted me back to the medical alcove, she'd told the Errand's Operating System to ask Doctor Symms to meet us there.

    "There was a World War Three?" I said.

    "Yes," Rinca said.

    "Was it about oil? They always said there'd be one over oil."

I wonder how many nations fought, seven nations would make a world war, yes, seven.

    "It was a war of idealisms."

We had reached the medical alcove and the q & a session was ended. I want green skin, and I thought this because the man waiting for us, Dr Symms of course, had green skin, green skin and four ears. I didn't want four ears though. He had a mouth and since he did have four ears I assumed he could communicate the same way as me.

    "I have an anxiety disorder, I need valium or something,” I said.

You're talking to an alien Troy. You're asking him for drugs. Well it isn't scarier than asking a normal doctor for drugs.

    "I'll assume that's some kind of sedative you were given for your condition."

    "Yes," I said.

    "Well, I have something more specific," he said and then pushed a metal device against my neck again.

    The world turned strange then. The crystals in my mind stopped refracting, somehow they became aligned and the light of thought flowed as a steady beam. My thoughts became the words I wanted to say, could say, the things I needed to be thinking. The dull beat of the chanting sevens was lost, gone, absolved. I looked up and frowned.

    "My brain's not working," I said.

    "It should be working fine," he said looking puzzled, "that enzyme should have an immediate effect on the neural path chemicals in your brain."

    "Yes, but my brain worked fine before, I just didn't want to be so anxious."

    "But it works better now?"

    "In your opinion," I said, "I suppose the answer is yes."

    He looked happy with that. I remember hoping it wasn't permanant, and that hope was a clear solid thought in the front of my mind, the only part I was aware of.

    

    Rinca led me out of the medical alcove.

    "You know when you are?" she asked.

    "Yes," I said.

    "Do you know where you are though?"

    "On a spaceship called Errand."

    "Yes and we've arrived at an inhabited planet," she stopped and looked at me then, "Would you like to come down to the surface with us. The doctor says the shot will last that long."

    Relief flooded in, I was worried I wouldn't get my multi-layered thoughts back. More thoughts means I'm smarterand I thought I would need to be smart on a spaceship in the 25th centuary.

    "Sure," I said, "Who lives on the planet?" More aliens, like the doctor I had hoped. Aliens exist I realised, How exciting.

    "The Luft," Rinca said.

    We left the corridors and entered a small round room.

    "Central," Rinca said and the room hummed and I think it moved but it didn't feel like it was moving, but it must have, because when the doors opened again it was not where we had entered. There was a big screen showing space and a big blue planet. Panels with lights, buttons and switches filled the room and there were seven of the people in purple uniform pushing them and reading their flashes. The Captain was there, he turned and waved.

 

"Troy," Captain Smith said, placing a small gold circle on my tshirt, "this is your communication device, use it to contact the ship or any other crew member when needed."

    "Ok."

    "We're about to board the planet shuttle to go greet the locals. You can relax as this isn't a first contact and the Luft are not hostile.  I must ask though; do you agree to come of your own free will?"

    I only had one thought not the usual many, the many possibilities were lost, suprressed so I just said yes. I followed Rinca, the Captain and two other crew through a hatch and into a small room. The hatch closed behind us and Rinca hit something on the control panel. The floor shook and vibrated; through the hatch window I saw the Errand grow smaller.

    "Take a seat," The Captain said, pointing to one of the five metal chairs. The chair seemed to hold me without any belts or buckles or space-agey foam to glue me down. I think the chair had its own gravity.

    With my new form of thought it all seemed so logical, so safe. We went through the atmosphere and pushed against the planet's gravity, but not so much that it didn't still draw us down to the green surface of the planet.

    "Prepare for decontamination," said a sterile, computerised voice and seconds later white mist filled the cabin. I sneezed and as my head shook I could feel the extra throughts at the back of my mind. As the shuttle doors opened to a green sky the air flooded in and seemed to push against my mind, almost gaining access through Dr Symms' chemical blockage to the layers of thoughts that lay beyond. Or maybe I was just crazy, even without the extra noise in my mind.

    "What now?" I asked the Captain.

    He grinned in that brown, bouncy-haired, all American good guy kind of way and said, "We explore."

I realised I found the captain charming but also sickening, he was just so hetero.

He turned to his two crew members, "Collect the samples," and they picked up some bags and left the shuttle, then turing to Rinca and I he simply said "With me," and sauntered off.

Yay, I thought, follow the hetero, but I smiled, at least my cynicism wasn't misplaced by the drug; somehow, it seemed slightly sharper.

    Soon we reached a clearing with a scattering of green wooden cabins, obviously made from the green trees reaching up around them. Out of one came a big, green monster, he smiled, and I smiled back, mainly because he looked like a fat grinch, fur and all.

    "Welcome," he said, grabbing Captain Smith in a big furry embrace;  the Captain's reply was lost somewhere within it.

He hugged Rinca and turned to me- I realised that normally I'd hate even the thought of being touched, but Dr Symms' needle had pushed those anxieties away, hidden wherever my extra layers of thoughts now lived.

    "Thankyou," I said as the grinch let me go, it seemed polite to say something. The grinch thing was obviously a Luft, and I made a mental note to amend that thought in my mind, Luft, NOT grinch. The Luft stepped back from us, still grinning.

    "I'm Luska. Welcome to the village, explore, meet the others. We hide nothing here."

    "We appreciate your hospitality," said Captain Smith, "but we were hoping to see Restero?"

    Luska stopped grinning at this, "We hide nothing but Restero is not part of the village, he lives out to the west, you may go look for him, but I guarantee no hospitality from him."

    "Thankyou for the information Luska. We'll take a chance and visit Restero and come back for a beverage," the Captain said with the biggest grin he could muster.

    Luska smiled once more and said he'd go prepare for our return. Rinca nodded and turned westward. We followed and headed back into the green upon green of the monotoned trees.

"Rinca?" I asked.

    "Yes," she said.

    "Someone forgot to inform me what this planet is called."

    "It's called many things, but on a map it is labelled as Trias."

    Trias to me sounded like a dingy gay bar for bears, and so, I suppose it fit. The planet's greeness was kind of like grime and the Luft were definitly like bears, minus the leather and the safe words instead of introductions.

    We walked for about 45 minutes, Rinca checking some bleeping dots on a metal pad she carried periodically.

    "It's 20 meters ahead," she said and we passed through some trees and were confronted with a large green hut. It was as big as two double decker buses parked next to each other. There seemed to be one semi-elliptical opening and a large Luft stood in front of it, his furry lips stilled, not frowning, not smiling.

    "Nice to see you again Captain Smith," he said.

    "Nice to see you  too," said the Captain. Neither shook hands or hugged, "This is Rinca my first in command and this is Troy."

    "Troy is the reason you've come?"

    "Yes, but you knew that."

    "Come in," he said, gesturing for us to follow him in.

    Inside, the space was bare except for a small work table with clay on it. The surrounding circular wall was covered in shelves and most of the shelves were filled with small clay figures of Luft.

    "I walked up to one and stared and the detail of the furr, it even had a dab of dye to produced the green coloured eyes of the Luft. Restero stood behind me watching.

    "Are you an artist?" I asked.

    "No, Troy, I'm a historian of sorts. These are the forgotten, I just try and give them back some tiny speck of their existance. I don't know what your captain has told you, but I'll assume you know you've been ripped through time. Your people still think it wise to do such things, to try and find the perfect future for such a chaotic universe, to attempt to fix their mistakes. My people tried that once. We use to be millions, now we are but thousands. None of the others remember."

    He paused then. I hadn't really thought about time travel yet, I just tried to think about where I was now. It was easier. My layers of thought had gone through the ways of comprehending the occurance of my day and I had been left with acceptance, a way to just adjust, move on, exist here and now. Maybe think more later.

    Restero continued, "We call it The Last Temporal Event, we know it happenned because some of us were cursed with Temporal Sight, the ability to see the lost things, the lost ones. They walk through the forests, where towns use to be, they shop at market stalls that no longer exist. They never come to injury, they never die, they just pass their time in the daily rituals they used to have until they finally become less than ghosts of time, when the temporal shift evaporates and they are gone. Many of the people these statues are of have left, a few I still see."

    "Maybe you're being a bit too forthcoming Restero," the Captain said.

    "Maybe," said Restero, "but he has the temporal sight, something is blocking it, his layers of thought have been silenced, but soon they'll be back, and do you want him to be scared when he sees the people, the buildings, the actions that happen again and again in ghost-like form?  Let him be informed." The large, furry alien sighed, “But you didn't come here for me to explain these things to him, you want me to explain him to you."

    "Yes," the Captain said, "he was a sudden arrival with no explanation by Earth Alliance, we thought maybe your sight could see."

    "Yes, and no," said Restero, "the boy is important in his past, "but things haven't changed by bringing him here, so he is destined to go back. However..."

    "Yes?" asked the captain.

    "I see a possability in him. He has something to do with your world Third War. What, I am not sure, but I see divergance if he makes it back. If he dies here in the future, I see a temporal shift for the worse, and if he makes it back I see alternative possibilities."

    Rinca was dotting on her metal pad; I was trying to understand. My thought was a stream and logic didn't serve much purpose in understanding this. All I could think to do was record it to memory and analyse it later when Dr Symms medicine had worn off.

    "Now leave, all three of you, I have little time and too many Luft in my mind to make before their ghosts die off." With that Restero went to his small work table and began bashing clay. The Captain motioned me to follow him outside, Rinca follwed behind me. Looking around I wondered if there were ghosts amoungst the trees, and was at least thankful that right now I couldn't see the mess others’ time meddling had made.

Do ghosts of time go to heaven, I wondered.

iQueer in Space - Chapter Two

Day 1 - Spaceship Errand - 19th August 2449

Arrival.

The wave of euphoria hit me then and I wasn't on the bus, but that was OK. A man in a purple onesy was helping me walk somewhere. My ipod headphones had fallen out and rumbled against the floor, they would get stuck in the grating of the dark metal corridors, i thought, and giggled out loud at the idea.

"Kid? Kid? Kid?" they kept asking, and i knew it was my name but my smile was really big and blocking out their meaning. All i could see was the grating on the floor, the solid grey walls and the bright lights of monitors every few meters. Dark and light. Not the bus, a cool club of some sort, but definitely not the bus.

A grey panel moved aside. The room had a metal bed with purple pillows. "Kid?" and as he put me down on the bed one of the other purple onesied people pulled my ipod from my pocket. I could still hear it playing.

"Turn it off," i said. They looked at each other and the one that helped me walk repeated my words. The third one, the woman onesy took the ipod from the other and pulled out the headphones. Off enough i thought. Purple is comfy. Purple is nice. Purple, purple, purple. The euphoria was starting to stumble through my body. My hand began to twitch. Seven, i thought, i closed my eyes, "seven."

"Seven what?" the main onesy asked.

I opened my eyes. "Where am I?" I said.

"Your on the Earth Space Vessel Errand." Ok, a space vessel. No the bus. Maybe my pills were wrong. Maybe the chemist had given me the wrong ones, maybe that cigarette of Trik's had gotten to me. It was getting harder to think. Not the bus, seven, seven, seven.

"I'm Captain Smith," the main one said. I had to be able to block this out, my brain must of over taken my eyes and ears, I though, not real, couldn't be real, not real, not real, not real. I grabbed my legs and began the chant of seven sevens. When i opened my eyes they looked worried around me and pushed something against my neck. My knees slipped from my hands and i fell asleep on the metal bed with purple pillows.


The room was empty except for me when I awoke. I got up off the purple pillows and walked towards the door, a logical step, go find someone to explain. Explanations are good. I will ask them to explain and it would make things good. Better. The door had no handle and I couldn't see any buttons to make it open. Some doors have buttons, some doors have sensors, open door. Please door. Step forward, step back, step forward. I even waved my hands around in the air but still the door would not open.

"Open door," I said.

"Unable to comply," can the crisp response of a female voice from nowhere in particular.

The door can talk. "Hello?"

"I suppose you are referring to me," the voice said.

"Yes. Who is me?"

"I am the Operating System of the Errand."

Errand, the ship. Must I play along? Play along. Easier to play along. I had started to shake again. It's OK if you just play along. You'll be OK Troy if you just play along. "Where am I?"

"You are aboard the The Earth Space Vessel Errand."

"Why?"

"I do not have that information."

"Where are we?"

"We are in the Jezith Star System."

"Why?"

"It is the mission of The Errand to explore deep space and examine other cultures with respect, understanding and curiosity. As briefed in the Errand's mission statement released 24th July 2448."

2448. Not 2447. This would be better if it was 2447. Seven is better. Hold on Troy. Don't loose your words. Keep speaking. No information. Go along. Play along. Explanation. This computer has no explanation. Get out. Find Explanation. Hold on to your words Troy.

"Why can't I leave this room?"

"The Captain has ordered the male human that appeared at 0427 hours to be confined to this medical alcove."

"Confined."

"Yes."

I had to think. How to get out. I didn't know technology, and I definitely did not know 25th century technology. I knew TV technology. I was good at outsmarting Windows Vista, that was operating system. I could work it back to front. With all it's "error 33" and "runtime .dll missing". Maybe, I thought, maybe.

"Computer what do you know about me?"

"It has been ascertained you have been brought forward in time from the early 21st century. You are approximately 21 years of age. You brain shows a slight chemical imbalance not common but not rare from your time period. Detailed scans of your brain by ships internal sensors..."

"OK computer thank you," I said cutting it off, "You said your mission was to respect other cultures. Would you agree I am from a different

culture than the 25th residents of this ship?"

"Yes."

"And by scanning me and the contents of bag I was carrying and the contents of my ipod can you determine anything about my culture."

"Yes."

"What is that?"

"You most likely belong to the sub-culture of gender queers found in the late 20th and early 21st century before the third world world."

"Correct. Do you have any knowledge on said culture."

"Extensive."

"Then you know that I don't identify as male or female but as gender queer and since it is your mission to respect and understand other cultures, shouldn't you identify me as neither male nor female?"

"Correct."

"And did the captain tell you to confine the human gender queer in the medical alcove?"

"No."

"Door open," and the door did.

I smiled How. I'm very clever. There is more than one layer of thoughts. More than one? Seven, seven. Maybe not seven. More than one. The thoughts came from somewhere deeper, but on top as well. More thoughts in my head. Seven. Not seven. Hold onto your head Troy. Watch.

I forced myself to focus on the external world. Along the grating of the corridors floor. I needed to find someone who would answer my questions. I needed not to find someone who would just take me back to the medical alcove.



Carefully wandering around, listening was key. The metal floors gave away the people coming, giving me time to run around corners and hide. Around one corner I almost ran into the Captain, but upon seeing him a little ways down the corridor, I shoved myself flush against the wall, the curve of the corridor hid me. He was standing and talking to someone, I think it was one of the others who had been in the medical alcove, been there when i arrived.

"It's not important why they sent him to us, they sent him and they will tell us why if they wish to, but only if they wish. Speculation will only waste time. What to do with him. How long did they say he'd be with us?"

"An extended period of time. They put no sanction on his learning so i though we could put him to use."

"As a member of the crew you mean?"

"Yes Rinca, unless you have a better idea?"

"It seems the best course of action if he is going to be with us for an extended period of time."

"I thought so. Has Richard made any assessment from the kids belongings yet?"

"Early 21st century most likely from a Queer subculture, gender queer by the woman attire he was carrying, the make-up residue on his face and the digital database he had."

"Digital database?"

"Yes, something called an iPod. It was most interesting to play with."

"Just take the scans and make sure he gets it back in one piece. It'll be his treasure no doubt, the last one carried his Walkman around like it was a photo of his dead mother."

"It is an obvious reaction to push one's emotions onto a belonging if that is all you have from that time left."

"CAPTAIN TO THE BRIDGE," an intercom system announced, I just hoped they'd turn and go the other way. No such luck.

They stared momentarily and eyed me, almost waiting for me to run.

They want words Troy, words.

"I was just trying to find a doctor, I need a Valium," I said. I wasn't kidding either, the anxiety was giving me heart burn. I needed relief.

iQueer in Space - Chapter One

I realise that anyone who reads this will find the things I find odd normal and my "normalities" odd. This is my point of view. My brain filters it. You will see what you want to see. I am here none the less.

Day 0 - Brisbane, Australia, Earth - 23rd July 2009

Before They Ripped Me Through Time and Space

Amateur drag had never been my thing, but fuck it that night I was getting up on stage anyway.

Waiting at the bus stop I was playing with my wig. Swishing it in my hands and flopping it on my head, draping it over my shoulders. I of course had my own short black asymmetrical cut hair, the wig was merely for the performance and its long golden girls were attracting attention already.

"Hey faggot!"

I turned around to see two guys about ten metres away. Of course they were wearing local rugby jerseys and had the slow meandering steps of thick footy thighs rubbing against themselves. I quickly shoved the wig back into my re-usable grocery green bag.

"Where're you going faggot." He spat in my face when he got close enough, not on purpose, but I could feel the contamination spreading. It spreads so quickly when someone touches you and travels down your spine, down your spine, down your spine and along your ankles. They tell me I shouldn't think of such things or that I should but not care that I should learn not to care about the thoughts. They said I wasn't right in the head, but even if I wasn't I still was contaminated, and the tiny speckle of spit was filled with the rugby guys essence, and it was travelling down my spine.

"Don't you got a tongue faggot?" I don't know how they expected me to speak when I was so contaminated, so filthy and gross. Move away, Move away, move away, but they didn't. I don't think the words came out anyway.

The bus came and I quickly jumped on. They didn't seem to want to go where I was going anyway. They walked away.

On the bus I listened to my iPod. I drove all night by Cyndi Lauper, exactly 4 minutes and 11 seconds long. I practiced mouthing the words. I mouthed the word faggot seven times after the song finished. Seven times to clean it from my system. An anti-bacterial wipe cleaned the spit from my face. I still looked forward to showering. I played Cyndi again, hopefully I wouldn't make a fool of myself with the song. Stupid friends organising an amateur drag night and making me perform, I thought, smiling. The bus trip took 27 minutes and I was in Kelvin Grove, at the university. To the guild bar, to my friends, to the drag, to the night.

Trik was waiting out front smoking.

"Hey boy," I said.

"Hey boy," she said, "are you ready?"

"Ready as ever." I twitched and the word, "faggot," came out of my mouth. Trik just grabbed me around the shoulders and put her cigarette in my mouth. I inhaled. It wasn't a cigarette after all, and the smoke was harsh but the feeling was good. Even the feeling of her skin through my arm felt less warm, not so much the burn of contamination but the slow osmosis of two symbiotic creatures sharing fluid. Running slightly late we installed ourselves in the disabled toilet and dragged ourselves up. Me with blonde curles and a red jacket dress and bare, pale naked legs adorned with army boots. I became Kludi. Trik yanked on black jeans, a blue striped business shirt (after I strapped down her breasts of course) and I drew on a dark Dali like moustache. I worked my make up as best I could around my stubble, I was a bearded lady after all.

"Did they just announced JP, is performing now?" I asked

Trik put her ear to the air, "Totes did."

Fuck, we packed our shit up by throwing it into our green bags and raced into the bar to see the short JP dance to JT. Not only did we want to see JP but also we hurried because we were next two in line to perform. Seven, seven, seven, seven, seven, seven, seven. Say seven seven times for luck in my head, the bad luck fell away.

"And now it’s time for that hostess of the runway, fashionista Kludi."

I grabbed the mic. "Vhy ello my Australian friends. You are looking hot tonight," and I may of grabbed JP's crouch at this point, "its time for me to strut my stuff down the runway, so someone please come and get this mic." I held out the mic and someone took it and the music began an instant later. The first verse I mouthed it alone, but as soon as the chorus started, as preplanned, but not prewarned, JP and Trik jumped on stage holding huge cardboard cut-outs of cars that they "drove" around me. A threesome mimed in the back of one of the cars ended the song. There was loud applause, there was always loud applause. I thought the word seven, just once.

"Get me a jug," I said to Trik, who grabbed my wallet from my bag and we spent the rest of the night with jug after jug of beer.

"Hey Kludi," Ryan said from behind me, "nice performance." I turned to face him and smiled, and probably blushed.

"Thank you," he sat down. Seven, seven, seven, seven, seven, seven, seven, seven, but no many how many times I thought it, the anxiety stayed.

"Are you coming out to the Valley with the rest of us?" Ryan leaned in to ask me.

SEVEN.

"No I have to work early tomorrow," I said which was true, not that that would stop me going out, but my hands were shaking and I felt sick. The contamination was oozing out from my stomach. I wanted Ryan to touch me, maybe he could fix it. See through me, I thought, see through me, make it go away, seven seven seven...

"Ok," he said, "I'll leave you to it." Ryan got up and left.

I went outside and had a smoke with JP and Trik, kissed each in turn and walked back to the bus stop.

The glowing bus sign said the 345 would take me home in 10 minutes, I sat listening to my iPod. 11 minutes later the bus came, I had listened to two and a half songs. I lifted up my arm and hailed the bus. The doors opened. I felt nothing unusual as I stepped onto the bus, but my vision blurred momentarily and as I refocused, all I could see was grey metal and three people in a purple one piece sleek clothing. I wasn't on the bus. I just remember thinking - This is not the bus, this is not the bus, I'm not on the bus, I should be on the bus, bus, bus, bus, bus, bus.

I barely heard one of them say, "Welcome to the 25th century."