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."