Part 02
Awakenings
by Kim EM & Debra Rachel
Copyright © 2000 by Kim EM & Debra Rachel
All rights reserved
Authors Notes: This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between this story and any actual person, living or dead, is coincidental. The story contains mature subject matter. It may contain adult situations and/or language. If you’re not old enough to legally read this (and you know who you are), then get out of here before it’s too late. You’ve been warned.
Permission is granted to archive or repost this story as long as the text is unaltered, and my copyright and this notice are included. Oh, and this permission is conditional upon it's being available only on free sites. No membership fee, "Adult Check", or other means of skinning money out of people are allowed.
We’d love to hear from any readers with comments. Email us at:
Debra Rachel: [email protected]
Kim EM: [email protected]
Succeeding chapters and other stories are available at http://www.kimem.net
Debra: I would have this dedicated to all those that know me and who are supporting me through my changes as they happen.
Kim: Actually, I agree with Deb’s dedication. I’m in the midst of my own transition, and I’d like to thank everyone who has been so helpful and supportive
Interlude: HERB
This part of the story is Helen's. I was... elsewhere... for much of it. After the experiment in stasis sleep began, I knew nothing of the world for a very long time. And when I did return from my sojourn, it was to a whole new world.
I woke up. That sounds kind of, well, pedestrian, but that's because it's something people do every day. For me, though, it was the first time, and it's a moment I will always remember.
It felt good, the feeling of the linens against my body, the weight of the covers, the warmth of the pillow against my face. The room was cool, almost cold, and I really didn't want to get up. I could feel the internal pressure, though, and knew that it was time to head for the bathroom or mess up those wonderfully comfy sheets.
Without a thought I pulled the covers off me, swung my feet off the edge of the bed, and found-- nothing-- on the floor. No slippers. I looked around and there was no robe or other clothing evident. As a matter of fact, I looked down and realized I was naked. Well, I wasn't going to let it bother me; I had to get to the bathroom before I peed myself.
The room was your run-of-the-mill cheap hotel. So I knew exactly where the bathroom was, and scurried right over. I went through the door at supersonic speeds, slid right onto the seat and released a high-pressure spray into the bowl. *Ahhhhhh*
That need completed, I wiped things up, moved to the sink, and began washing my hands. I looked into the mirror and stopped. Frozen. I saw my face, but, well, it was a face I'd never seen before.
The person I saw was female, about 6 foot tall, long and thick blonde hair (and I did check, the blonde was natural), kind of Nordic-looking. I looked down at my body. Well-shaped from what I could tell, large breasts, narrow waist. Great. But this was the wrong body for me. I should be-- what?
It was only then I realized that I didn't know what I was supposed to look like. I had no idea whatsoever. All I could tell was that this body was unfamiliar. Not better nor worse than what it should have been, but different. What _was_ I supposed to look like, anyway?
I stood, and thought, and thought, and thought. Nothing. Finally I decided that standing naked in a cold bathroom might not be the smartest thing to do, and returned to the bedroom.
Still no clothing in sight. That made sense; if there hadn't been any there when I went to the bathroom, how would it get there now? The brownies came in and stocked the wardrobe whilst I was in the loo?
The wardrobe. Nothing in the closet. Nothing in the dressers. No bags, nothing under the bed. Damn. This could be awkward. No clothing, in the wrong body. Why wasn't I panicking?
Hookay, let's look around. I walked over to the window, and noted the sway of my breasts with even the slow, short walk. Hmmm. I was going to need a bra. From somewhere. Soon.
I pulled back the curtain to discover that it was mid-day, or at least the sun was high in the sky. The view outdoors-- I was several stories up, and outside the window was a grassy area with scattered palm trees. About fifty yards away was a two-lane road with a steady flow of traffic. There seemed to be something wrong, though. I stood and watched the cars for about 20 minutes before it dawned on me. Of course! They're driving on the WRONG side of the road!
I decided that I might have to rethink the hotel theory. No car park. Across the road was what appeared to be an abandoned orange grove, and beyond that a lushly overgrown area that looked as if it might be swampland. Then I looked above the trees and went a bit faint. Above the tree line I could see some large metal frames at quite a distance. I'd never seen anything like them before, and then realized that there was a rocket upright on one. I instantly knew what it was, and by extension, where I was.
I looked at them and started to think about what I had seen so far.... The cars driving on the wrong side of the road-- the swampland-- the palm trees-- and last but not least the rocket. It had to be Cape Kennedy in Florida.
I backed away from the window, and fell backwards across the bed. I landed heavily and just lay there, trying to figure this all out. Trying. Nothing came to me, though. I knew where I was, more or less. And again, it's not where I was supposed to be. I should be... um... merde. Again,I didn't know where I should be, only that this wasn't it.
I sat up and looked for the room phone. Nothing. No phone? That was curious. This was definitely not a hotel. I started to wonder if I was locked in.
I rose and walked to the door. I turned the latch and the knob, and gently pulled the door open. No problems there. I poked my head out, and looked left and right. No people were in sight, and it looked just like a hotel hallway. No guards or nurse stations or anything like that. I looked at my door before withdrawing my head, and there was a small plastic plate on the door: "417".
I stepped back in and let the door close with a gentle 'snufft'. I paused a bit at that. It didn't sound like any door closing noise I'd ever heard. Which would be... when? My memory seemed to be pretty well shot.
I sat back down to think some more. It was still cold in the room, and I looked around... no thermostat. Figures. I snuggled under the covers and tried to assess my situation. Naked, in the wrong body, no clothing, no idea how I got there, in what was Not-A-Hotel located at Cape Kennedy, the place where the United States launches its moon flights.
Terrific.
*What do I do now?*
Um...
Someone could show up here at any time. On the other hand, maybe nobody would show up. But _someone_ had to know I was there. And with luck, they could tell me why I was there.
I lay, for a good two minutes. Patience was apparently not one of my virtues. I got up and wrapped the sheet around myself. I stepped to the door in my improvised toga, opened it and stepped outside.
As the door went 'snufft' behind me it occurred to me to check the lock from this side. Locked. Great. Well, I was committed now. I walked the hallway from one end to the other, with no sign of life, no sounds, and no indication that I wasn't the only person left in earth. No, that couldn't be true. There'd been cars on the motorway outside.
I returned to the area of the elevator and pressed the 'down' button. After a short wait, the wheezing elevator arrived and I stepped in. Floors numbered one through four. Okay, I was at the top. Should that make me feel good?
I pressed the "1" button as the doors noisily closed. The elevator was as rough going down as it sounded. It jolted to a stop on the first floor, and the doors rattled their way open. I stepped out, into a small shabby tiled lobby. No 'front desk' as such, as though this had been a hotel, but instead a guard post with two bored Air Force personnel sitting behind a desk.
One turned and saw me, his mouth dropping in surprise. The other started to ask what was wrong and then he spotted me. He stood suddenly, his folding chair falling over backwards with a loud clatter.
The first guard put his foot into it then, with the first instinctive question. "Who're you?"
"I'm... I'm... I..." *Hooboy* Who was I? I had no earthly idea. I suppose it shouldn't have surprised me, with as many unanswered questions as were swirling about me. Why shouldn't I have no personal memory? "I really can't say."
The voice that came out of my throat was unfamiliar as well. It was a pleasant voice, just not mine, if I had any clue what mine should have sounded like. It was a bit high-pitched, soft and slightly breathy. Not really a little-girl's voice, but rather like one that hadn't been used in a long time.
We were sitting in a small, shabby interrogation room. Oh, that's not what they called it, but it wasn't that hard to figure out. Tile walls, a big mirror on one side of the room, gray metal table and two profoundly uncomfortable chairs.
On one side of the table, facing the mirror, was me, still wrapped up in my improvised toga. On the other side was a general - an American general, of course, General Fitzsomething-or-other. And standing, leaning casually against one wall was a woman who had only been identified to me as Elle. Dark suit, kind of mannish, medium length auburn hair, and a sardonic expression as she listened to the questioning.
The general seemed to be taking it as a personal affront that I couldn't explain who I was or how I got there.
The general spoke, disbelievingly, "You have NO idea who you are? Do you take me for an idiot?"
Elle coughed gently, and the general colored slightly and looked just a bit embarrassed. Something was going on here, but I had no clue what. It was getting a bit old; this having no idea what was going on.
I leant forward, palms flat to the table, and told the general, "Look, you don't have to like it, and you don't have to believe me. But the fact remains that I have no clue as to who I am or how I got here. You can bluster all you want and it's not going to change those facts."
Elle straightened and walked up to the table, looking down at me expectantly. "Do you know where you are?"
That one I could handle. "I'm somewhere at Cape Kennedy."
"How..." the general began, but I cut him off.
"Before I came downstairs I looked out the window. Even I can recognize rockets when I see them. And with the palm trees that puts me at Cape Kennedy."
Elle smiled and said, "Actually, you're on the Cape Canaveral Air Force Station. The Kennedy Space Center is just north of us."
The names were familiar, but slightly twisted, like in a funhouse mirror. "I thought they changed Cape Canaveral to Cape Kennedy a few years ago? Surely I didn't miss anything?"
Elle bent at the knees to bring her head down to my level, her eyes narrowed. "Apparently you did. Errm. May I ask you a slightly strange question?" I had a bad feeling about this, but nodded anyway. She continued, "What year is it? Right now, that is."
The general leaned back, a disgusted look on his face, and I leaned back, but for a completely different reason. There could only be one reason for asking a question like that, and it didn't bode well for me or my peace of mind, what little mind I had left.
"I think... well, no. If its when I think it is, your question wouldn't have had a point. So it's got to be somewhere, somewhen else."
Elle nodded, smiling expectantly.
"It's, or at least it should be, Nineteen-Seventy."
Her face went blank for a moment, then recovered. "Hookay."
I knew she was waiting for it, so I had to ask. "When it it? Today, I mean."
"It's, well, I think you're in for a bit of a shock. Today is Monday, August Twenty-eighth, Two Thousand."
I slumped down in my chair. Thirty years. *THIRTY YEARS?*
I think that's about when I fainted.
© 2000 The above work is copyrighted material. Anyone wishing to copy, archive, or re-post this story must contact the author for permission.
