a r e a 5 1 a b a n d o n w a r e

___________ .__ _____ __ /\|\/\ / _____/ |__ |__|/ ____\/ |_ /\|\/\ _) (__ \_____ \| | \| \ __\\ __\_) (__ \_ _/ / \ Y \ || | | | \_ _/ ) \ /_______ /___| /__||__| |__| ) \ \/\|\/ *Shift*\/ \/ \/\|\/

*THUNK*

The force of the impact threw me backwards. A large, jolly face swam into view. He spoke, but the resulting speech sounded like gibberish. I painfully moved my head, the scene floated in front of my eyes. The bus drifted into view, looming tall and menacing over me, it's driver cowering to the side of it. I felt a strong desire to hit him, ordered myself to do it, but my body refused to obey. Everything seemed distant; sounds weren't as clear, loud or obtrusive, the sun took on an unusually soft hue, a far cry from it's usual harsh yellow. My body ached, but, due to the apparent disconnection of my body, the pain seemed distant and more like a mild, distant discomfort. I finally realised what was happening to me, I was dying. Shit, I thought slowly (as this was painful too), I've been robbed of my life, bloody bus dri.......

I woke up. I looked up to the ceiling, stark white, vastly different from the dreary green of my bedroom's ceiling. I rolled over, almost falling out of bed. Wtf? I thought, something's happened to my bed, it‘s smaller than I remember. Then I remembered what had happened. Ah, I reassured myself, hospital. But, upon closer examination of the room, I deducted this wasn't hospital; where were the other patients, the drips, etc.? I distinctly remember being hit by the bus, and it's not something you'd easily forget. I sat up, no pain. I got out of bed, legs steady, no pain either. Eh? I thought, what in hell's name is going on? I got dressed, grabbing the green shirt that lay draped over a chair (which was oddly formal, wooden, rectangular, unlike my usual red, plastic one which sat in it's place). I pulled it on, shoved myself into the black trousers, which I at this point thought were jeans, and charged out of the door in my usual reckless manner. *smack* My sister was thrown several feet backwards and I was shaken somewhat by the impact. "Oops," I grinned at her.

"Heil!" She replied in an unusually formal tone for a sister addressing her clumsy older brother.

"Er, hi," I suggested. She looked at me slightly oddly, then disappeared into the bathroom. "Dump!" I muttered as the lock on the bathroom door clicked. "Look, Helen, don't take your usual 10 minutes, OK? I'm bursting out here." She didn't reply. After a couple of agonising minutes, she emerged. "Thanks for hurrying," the remark went after her as she marched through to her bedroom. I used the toilet, again amazed at the efficiency of bodily functions. As I was leaving, I noticed that the bathroom had lost it's tacked together look, and now looked much better. I dismissed this without much thought.

I tore down the stairs, in my usual carefree way, and made it to the bottom without mishap. Then I was stopped by my father as he was leaving. "Pay attention in racial hygiene, Michael; Miss English has been to see us, you are not paying attention. Do so, or you will not be allowed to the camp this weekend. Understand?" I nodded, not paying any attention to what he was saying. As I headed to the computer room, I had a cartoon-style double take. Racial hygiene?! What the hell? I carried onto the computer room on autopilot as I pondered my father's statement. Hrm, bet he's trying to pull my leg again, I decided.

I put it out of mind as I sat down to the computer. Wait a second, my mind went into over drive, where's the bloody computer? Where my black, plastic other-half usually sat, I was greeted by a blank wall and an empty table. Argghh! I screamed to myself, where has it gone? I searched frantically for my MP3s CD, gone. All my games, gone. Everything, gone. I stormed through to the living room. "Mum!" I demanded, this had gone beyond a matter which required etiquette, "where'd the computer go?" My mother emerged from the kitchen, oddly attired. She was wearing an apron, something she'd never done in my memory, she had a long, plain dress on, which was odd clothing for a primary school teacher. And, come to think of it, why isn't she off to work by now? I wondered.

"Michael," she replied sternly, "sit down, and eat your breakfast." I sighed and slumped into a seat at the table. Another oddity, we almost never ate at the table at breakfast times, we usually frantically dashed around, cereal bowl in hand, searching for items essential for that day at school. I dug into my breakfast, only bothering to look at it after I had taken a few spoons. Porridge stared up at me. Ick! I screwed up my face to match what I was thinking, porridge. Tasteless shite! It was only then that I began to realise something was very, very wrong.

I left for school as usual, meeting Lee half-way down the street. "Heil!" he announced, lifting his arm in a Nazi salute. I replied as I had done to my sister, adding a wave this time. He looked at me oddly, then, without any warning, called over a tall, angry looking man who was standing on the corner. If my history was serving me correctly, he was wearing an SA uniform, with maybe slight modifications. This was when I knew it was time to leave. Turning, I legged it up the street. I grabbed the lamp-post at the top corner of the street, swung myself round the corner on it and kept running. I stumbled, and due to the speed at which I was moving, fell flat on my face. A girl, whom I seemed to find familiar, helped me up.

"You've gotta help me!" I panted frantically, "Some lunatic Nazi bastard is after me!" She merely looked at me. "Come on, please?" I cried. At this point she seemed to have made up her mind, she helped me into her house, which was (luckily for me) just next to where I had fallen. "Thanks," I said as she sat me down in one of the seats in her house. I noticed a swastika carved into the back of it. "What's going on?" I inquired, "Why in hell are the Nazis everywhere?" She told me what had happened: during the Second Great War, France had been defeated (I knew this) and Britain had fallen soon afterwards, thanks to the Nazi invention of radar and increased use of u-boats. "No!" I exclaimed, "Surely it can't be. We lost the war? That's not what happened, you're lying to me." She motioned to the shirt I was wearing, and I looked to where she pointed. Instead of the German flag that had resided there, a swastika now sat. I was getting more and more depressed and confused.

She phoned a friend of hers, who had contacts with the Underground, an (according to the Nazis) "Organisation run by Jews, Communists and other sub-human elements, who wished to overthrow and pollute the purity of the master race" (incidentally, British people were considered to be of similar superiority to the Aryan "Master Race", hence their being spared from the genocidal orgy that had swept Europe after Germany's victory. She arranged for her friend's contacts to come and pick me up, after convincing her that I wasn't a Nazi infiltrator. Now all I had to do was wait.

I dozed lightly, the warmth of sleep soothing my anger, upset and depression. A sharp knock at the door brought me back to reality. The door was answered by my protector and friend. As she let the contacts in, I swallowed, knowing instinctively that something wasn't right about this. I searched desperately for the back door, and, upon finding it, bolted out of it. As I escaped up the street, I heard cursing and shouts for me to stop. Damn! I thought as I ran, my mental voice apparently as out of breath as my body was, that was close. I congratulated myself on my escape. *BANG* I fell to the ground, my lower back sending out pulses of pain. I felt at my back, my hand returning to view covered in blood. I managed to force myself to my feet, and staggered onwards. Another two gun shots rang out behind me, my right leg gave under the pain of a bullet embedded in it just above the knee, and my shoulder now ached too. I couldn't get up anymore. I lay, wallowing in a pool of my own blood, as they came to a halt near me. The pain was immense, so bad that I was barely able to remain conscious. My body began to feel weaker, I couldn't get it to respond. Lift, I told my arm, but it refused. Grrrr, I tried to roar angrily as they took me away, but I couldn't. I knew I was dying, nothing they could do would stop this. I managed to force a smile onto my face as everything went black......

Blurred. Must focus. Ceiling, boring. Look around. Room. Colour: sky blue. Get up. Confused. What is happening? I managed to get to my feet, feeling slightly drained. I swung my head around, it was feeling heavy. Wait a bloody second, I thought, where the hell am I now. Surely this isn't heaven, or (as I thought about my anti-christian rantings) hell. It's too warm and comfortable looking for hell. "Hi?" I ventured.

The door slowly opened. A girl, probably about the same age as me, entered. "Uh, hi!" I smiled at her. She came over to me, motioned me to sit. "Uh, nah," I said, "Er, no thanks," I added. She slapped me hard across the face. "Shite! On second thoughts," I decided, "I'll have a seat." Grinning, trying to pacify her.

"Listen, boy," she said fiercely, adding acidity to the "boy" at the end, as though it were a sign of disrespect. "You do whatever I tell you, clear?" I nodded, very confused. "Don't tell mother about what we're doing, right? She mustn't know that we're having sex." My eyes damn near popped out of my head. "You know the rules about mistress-pet interbreeding." she added, smiling kindly. I stared at her in a way which could only be described as gawking. "Don't give me that! And anyway, you know the way the legal system works, 4 men are needed to balance out for every woman as witnesses. The testimony of one man, especially a defective one like yourself, would be laughed out of court!" She wasn't trying to cushion these blows at all.

I wandered aimlessly around my room, which was my prison also, looking at the "toys" I was given to entertain myself with. I came upon a book, then, which might have the answers I sought. "The History of the World from the Fall of the Old Order until Present Day - Male's Edition" it was titled. I picked it up and began to read. The layout and language were simplistic at best. I managed to deduce from it (for it was heavily propagandic in nature, steeped towards women) that there had been a revolution sometime in the early 1700's, and that women had taken control. After there order was established world-wide (within 10 years the book claims, but I suspect that's an exaggeration), men were now to be split into two classes: breeding stock and pets. The breeding stock were generally well treated, with only one objective, to be used for breeding from. The other class were treated in a similar manner to a dog, kept domesticated as comfort for the mistress. We were meant to act as company for our owners, and, if they were upset, give them emotional and physical (such as hugs, etc., but nothing more) support. Bastardous, I decided.

Several days later, I came upon a diary the owner of my body had kept. Ah, I thought, very considerate of myself. Let's see now. I read through it, pretty uneventful, but the parts which interested me were the beginning and end. The first entry went as follows:

"23rd November, 1997

"I've been adopted. It's my 14th birthday, and I'm being adopted. I've been told that I'm lucky to be, being defective as I am. I've been told that my new owner is a nice young girl, several months my superior. Hope this all works out, I've been hearing reports of men being beaten, and other such things, by their owners."

This cast some light on things. The next entry was from the last night before my entry began. It went:

"24th September 1999

"She wants me to have sex with her! I can barely believe it! It's illegal, and she knows it, I think that's why she wants it; to live on the edge, break the rules. I ain't sure what I should do, if I say no, I'll get into trouble for being disobedient, if I say yes, I'll get into trouble if I'm caught. She could blame it on me, say I raped her. I am not sure what I'll do."

From my first conversation with my mistress, I deducted that we had indeed, done "it". This put me in a very tight spot if she demanded more. I pondered this as I passed the time playing with my toys.

"Mike," she called me as she entered the room. "My mother's out." she told me as her clothes fell to the floor. WTF?! my mind cried, she's a nympho, and I'm in a hell of a fix now. "Come over here," when she saw I wasn't moving, she added a sharp "now" to it. I got up and went over to her, keeping my distance. "Come on," she urged, indicating to my clothing. I was blushing heavily at this point. "What's wrong? You've done it before, you know. It's no different this time." I backed off.

"Er, uh," I was having serious trouble finding what to say. "Uh, I've been reading my book," I motioned to the History one. "Didn't really like what I read. Men used to be free? Why are we, er, captives now?" I was stalling for time, though I couldn't think how this would help.

"Michael, dear, you know why, really you do." she reassured me, "Anyway, I like men, I think they're equal." I was having trouble keeping my eyes from her slowly rising and falling chest. This, combined with the fact a girl I barely knew was naked and coming onto me, made me blush further. "You know I do," she added. My plan was flailing horribly now. She came a little closer, and I moved a similar distance backwards. This dance of ours carried on until I found myself in a corner, literally. "You enjoyed it last time, you will this time too, I promise," she smiled.

"Uh," my hormones were raging now, "I, er, well," at this point, I pretended to faint. She caught me as I slumped to the ground. At this point, I heard her mother calling. I opened my eyes and said: "Shite! Get dressed!" I motioned to the heap of her clothing, but it was too late, her mother entered the room. Bollocks, I thought, I'm really up a creek now.

I was taken to some kind of facility where men who disobeyed/broke the rules were taken. I was put into some kind of cage. Not much room here, I thought. I was a resident of this cage for several days, food emerging from a flap in the corner. My 6th day here I was taken to the chief surgeon. This, I thought, doesn't look good. Not at bloody all.

"Ah, Michael," said the surgeon smiling kindly, "welcome, make yourself comfortable." That was the last thing I thought of, I was taken over to what appeared to be an operating table, and lain on it. My mistress began to cry. Ah, I thought, she actually cared. Touching, but a bit bloody late. She started pleading for me to be released, that I wasn't to be put down. Out of reflex, I blushed. "Oh, he'll not be put down," said the surgeon, I sighed a sigh of relief. "Merely neutered." she added.

As she said this, my arms were released by the guards so they could tie me down. I leapt off the operating table, knocking the doctor over as I did. "Scum," she said as she got up. This was the word most males were conditioned to become immobile for several seconds upon hearing; but, due to the fact I (my mind at least) hadn't received this training, I kept moving. One of them hit the alarm. Shite, I thought, one chance at this. I dashed for the door. As I left, I grabbed a metal bar which was lying near a pile of building materials near the door. I headed down the corridor, dressed only in one of the hospital's gowns.

"Stop!" someone shouted after me. I heard hurried footsteps tearing after me. Someone came out of a doorway at me, I introduced her skull to the iron bar, I was desperate now. A sharp right then another put me face to face with a wall. "Damn," I muttered. Someone came down the corridor after me, followed by another, then two others. They ordered me to give myself up and I would be unharmed. They advanced on me, I swung wildly with the bar, knocking one down before I was overcome. I felt a muscle in my arm jolt suddenly, then everything went dark.

I awoke on the operating table. Crap, I thought, not another f-ing life! Then the chief surgeon's face appeared in the corner of my vision. I moved my extremities, they responded, good I thought. Better not try anything again though. I was informed that due to my "crimes" (I personally don't rate saying "no" to woman or running for my bloody life a crime) that I was to be put down! I was about to protest, when I felt a prick in my left arm. I shot my head around, to be greeted with a needle being emptied into my arm. I began to feel happy. "Wha...?" I stuttered. This was the lethal injection, I was told. "Bitch!" I responded as I got off the table. "I'm sentient too, I have a right to live!" I explained. "I ain't some damn animal, I'm a human. Don't you know what that means?" Everything began to get fuzzy. "No..... no....." I cried, tears streaming down my cheeks. "One day," I began, "men will get their," I had begun to stutter horribly, no doubt due to the injection, "and when that happens...... remember my....... face." I managed to hiss before everything lost definition. I began to fall, but never hit the ground......

"Hey, asshole, get up!" someone was prodding me. "Look, don't be an asshole," they added, I cringed at the use of the term "ass". I found myself lying on my side in some kind of dormitory.

"Is that anyway to speak to anyone you brainless wank?" I asked with mild annoyance. I looked at the person addressing me. He was about 6' 3" and rather well built. "On second thoughts," I said, "address me anyway you want." I added an embarrassed grin to this statement. He scowled and wandered away. I looked around, a pretty boring dormitory looked back. Several people I knew, damn, I - er - once knew? Who's counter parts I knew, were lying in their dormitories too. I staggered over to the window, pulling up the shutter. I was shocked by what I saw; a black, velvet looking expanse with a liberal sprinkling of glowing coloured dots. Space. "Where, exactly, are we?!" I asked no one in particular. A female I knew, or think I knew, replied.

"Don't be so bloody stupid, we're going to Mars for a field trip," she frowned at me. I thanked her. Mars?! Why, no, more importantly, how, in hell are we, I thought, going to get there?! I had a pretty solid grasp of real-life space travel, and by current means it would take us months to reach Mars. I collapsed into my bunk, considering what had happened in this life that I'd missed.

My thoughts were interrupted by a particularly intrusive intercom announcement. It went: "All passengers please convene in the dining room immediately, repeat, all passengers please convene in the dining room immediately." Then, with a click, I was left alone with my thoughts and several other people. With a buzz of excited chatter, everyone made there way through to the dining room, I moped along behind.

"Here here," shouted the captain. "I will have complete silence before I go on." He folded his arms to add emphasis to this. The chatter gradually ebbed away. "Thank you," he addressed the audience in his most formal manner, "I have some grave news for you." Everyone seemed to stop moving at this point. He paused for more emphasis.

"Hurry up!" I cried, several people gave me dirty looks, and the girl's counterpart nudged me forcefully.

He continued more gravely than before. "I have just received a transmission from Earth Main Base, there is a, how should I put it? A "situation" back on Earth." This had a complete stilling effect, a pin could be heard to drop, had I had one handy. "I can't think how to put this anymore softly, Earth has been destroyed."

"Destroyed, aye?" I challenged. "It'd take a whole bloody fleet of Star Destroyer's to do that!" the girl's glare became more angry. I slid back down in my seat. The captain's patience was being used up.

He continued: "As our friend so wisely pointed out," he shot a glance in my direction at the mentioning of "friend". "Earth, hasn't been "destroyed" as such," everyone let out a sigh of relief. "But, it has been rendered uninhabitable for several thousand years at least." everyone was shocked. "This is due to the outbreak of a nuclear conflict, and it is unclear who threw the first stone, as it were."

"You yanking my crank?" someone called from the back. I barely stifled my laughter. The captain was fast running out of patience. At this point, several people broke down, crying and cursing. Many cried "Communist bastards!" or other similar damning statements against the left. One woman up at the back, a teacher I would've guessed, started to savagely beat the man next to her. Yipe! I thought, all too reminiscent of my previous life. I laughed silently as 3 well-built officers attempted to restrain her. The man cowered, crying. It later transpired that the man had been a socialist, and the woman had therefore associated him with the bombing, and decided he would be the perfect valve for her anger.

I spent the next few hours brushing up on my history of "this" world. It transpired that the cold war hadn't ended on schedule (by my time-frame) and that I was riding in one of the results of the conflict. Weapons technology and propulsion had advanced hugely as a result of the stand-off. Now, as a result of irresponsibility on the Russian's or American's part, Earth now lay as a charred wreck. There would, of course, be pockets of survivors, but there wouldn't be sufficient of anything left to continue the human race as it had been; all I could think of was a reversion to the tribal system.

I felt strangely unconcerned with the murder of several billion innocents on the planet they called Earth. Earth was dead to me now, I didn't have an Earth, I was, no, am homeless. I fell gutted, as though I've been upended and emptied. I have no life, no friends that are mine, no family. Nothing. I amount to what I have: nothing. My "life", as it were, is completely pointless. I'll only wake up whenever I die. I am nothing, no one, a traveller with no relatives in his destination. I keep wondering why I can't just die. To many, this'll seem their idea of perfection, invulnerability. But I'm not invulnerable, I die and I am reborn, but not to the same life, to a radically different one. If I was a Christian, I'd say this matches up to heaven, but I'm not. This is my proof that "god" doesn't exist. If he does, he isn't a god of love, a god of hate is what he conforms to. I wish I would just die and not come back. If I have to come back, I want to go back to my life, not someone else's. The hero never dies. I feel like the bad guy, someone or something is persecuting me, it won't leave me alone. I want it to.

"Hey!" cried some dunce from the military. Those bastards are everywhere. "Get your asses into the dining room, now!" He pointed to the door.

"We all know what the military do with their arses," I informed him as I left the room. "Pick up the soap, private!" I cried back to him. This would get him angry. He stormed in after us, but didn't pursue the matter further, as the captain was looking rather agitated now. I smiled at the squaddie. He glared back.

"I have an, er, announcement to make," the captain was sounding shaky, due to 3 weeks stranding in space and too much gin I'd say. "Please, everyone, listen up." he had been steadily losing respect from everyone.

"You're a bloody drunkard!" I called over to him. I was alone in a corner, as everyone had labelled me "trouble" and avoided me. This remark earned me less dirty looks than I'd expected, many people probably agreed with me. The captain continued after several seconds pause.

"We have a problem onboard," he informed us. People were beginning to get restless. "We are going to run out of supplies soon, too soon." he glanced around nervously, "therefore, we have no choice but to return to Earth." This met general disapproval, with comments such as "I'd rather die human in space, than a mutated freak on Earth!". "I apologise for this, but we have no other choice." At this he left, escorted by several squaddies. I left soon after.

"Hi," she announced as she sat on my bunk next to me, "how's stuff?" she asked, obviously making conversation. This was the same girl as had helped me at the beginning. There was obviously something going on between me and her, well my other self and her. I told her stuff was about as well as she could expect. "Well," she hesitated, "I've got, er, something to tell you." I told her to go on. "I'm pregnant," she explained. I nearly burst out laughing. For some reason, I found this highly amusing. No doubt due to a creeping sense of inadequacy stemming from the fact that my double in this universe had been much more popular than I, and, apparently, much more attractive to females.

"Uh, er, by me?" I asked.

"Of course!" she replied more than a little sharply. Apparently, I was to proud of her not straying from me, or my double at least. "I've been completely faithful to you," she went on, "unlike you have been to me!" I let out a contorted, twisted laugh. "What's so funny? You think it's funny, you being unfaithful?" she demanded.

"But that's just it," I began, "I've never been unfaithful to you, I've never even gone out with you. Where I come from, we're just friends." She looked at me oddly. "Look, dammnit! I don't belong here. I am shifting, somehow, between one life and the next, and the only constant is, well, me." She looked somewhat upset. Before she could speak, I cut her off. "And no, I'm not insane, nor am I losing it." She continued to stare at me. "Any questions?"

"Well, yes," she replied. Damn, I thought, was hoping she'd just drop it. "If you aren't from "here", as it were, where are you from?" I explained my Earth as best I could, telling her how it no doubt lay happily, devoid of free-roaming radioactivity and how it had pastures green and new. She seemed happy with this.

Later that night, several squaddies came for me. "Come with us, asshole!" one of them ordered. I merely stared back at them, not moving. One of them made a grab for me, I shifted to the side, making his hand come into violent contact with the bulk head beside me. He growled and grabbed at me again. I made a dive for him, knocking him over. He threw a punch, which caught me in the shoulder. His two friends started after me too. "Get back here!" one cried. I kept running.

When I arrived, somewhat out of breath, in the dining room, the staff were just tidying up. I dived into the kitchen, knocking over a pot of soup being prepared for the next meal. I dashed out of the other exit, right into the arms of the captain. "Er, hi," I tried. He dragged me away.

I've been in here for days now, like a pacing cat. It's too bloody small. I'm suffering claustrophobia I think, and the proximity of the other people is making things worse. I am considering either killing them, or perhaps myself.

Why can't I die? I just would be happy to wink out and that'd be the end of it, but no, I keep coming back for more. Do I have unfinished business? Is that it? Why? My body is fine, better than the original, but I'm withering away, mentally. I would be described as someone who is dying, but I amn't. I amn't able to, I just keep coming back, stuck in an endless hell of bad lives. I amn't sure what I'll do. There's nothing I can do, except keep dying until I get a good hand.

"Attention, please, attention," the intercom blared. "Everyone to the dining room, prisoners included." *click* it was silent again. Several minutes later, a group of soldiers came to take us to the dining room, this time I didn't bother fighting.

"We have a new problem," announced the captain, hand near his pocket. He kept a gun there now, I'd seen it when he was a bit less than discreet showing it to his most trusted. "We're not going to make it home," he continued.

"What've you buggered up now?" I demanded.

"The propulsion system has been, as Michael there put it, "buggered up" during last night's meteor shower." He looked around nervously. "We therefore can't make it home, as none of us have the ability to fix it. If, however, there are any of you who can fix it, no mater how "improvisational" these repairs may be, please, speak up now." No one said anything. "Please," he said desperately, "we'll reconvene here in 3 hours, and anyone who can has the opportunity to volunteer then." He left as usual.

I spent the next three hours wandering around me cell. This was the only way to pass the time, as we didn't get any books or videos. The guards came for me again.

"Anyone?" the captain volunteered. I stuck my hand up. "You?!" he seemed shocked at the suggestion I could do anything useful. I explained to him I could repair it adequately to get us home. He didn't seem convinced, but someone shouted something about me being "better than dying like an arse in space". I smiled proudly. After several agonising minutes, he came to a decision. "We'll give you a shot," he told me, "but any funny business, if you even step 1 millimetre out of line, we'll be down on you like a ton of bricks, got that?" I nodded.

I was briskly marched through to the engine room. I was put down near the drive and ordered to get working. I began to pull plates off the drive, attempting to get to the power source. I couldn't, it was too well shielded. I began to search the drive furiously. I found the button, and pressed it.

A small screen beeped. "Self Destruct Activated....... Detonation in - 5," I looked at it, smiling, "4 - 3 - 2 -1......"

I awoke cuddled up to someone. I was in a tent, small, just big enough for two I'd say. Next to me lay a girl, about my age, whom was snuggling up to me. "No.........." I cried........