Culture Shock
1971
I grinned, pushing back my sunglasses to look at the dumbass that wanted to fuck with me. That whole woman's right shit had gone down a couple year's ago when I was still a kid, but this guy didn't seem to get the message, and I had to kick his ass.
"Whore." He spat, and I grinned, kicking him in the teeth and knocking him back. Let's face it, the dude was ugly, and judging from the wrinkled clothes and lack of a wedding ring; single. He shouldn't have been calling me a slut in the first place.
"Jealous 'cause I can actually get laid?" I shot back, placing a cowboy boot on his hand and pressing my foot down. I heard a crunch and he screamed.
I lifted my foot, and adjusted my red bandanna. My smile faded, and I turned on my heel away from the jackass. I didn't need the cops showing up and trying to arrest me for kicking some dudes ass. 'Sides, it was bad karma to beat someone up too much anyways. I slid my sunglasses back down, and scooped up my pack from the side of the road and climbed into the man's car.
See, what had happened was the fuck-tard decided he wanted to stop and call me names while I was trying to hitchhike to New York. Well, I don't really deal well with bullies, and as you can tell, one thing lead to another and…
Well, I got his car keys and he got his ass kicked.
I revved up the car, testing it's power before a scream caught my attention.
"You're just going to leave me here to die?!" The man screamed, and I rolled my eyes.
"Grow up dude, I only broke your nose and your wrist, not to mention this is a well traveled road. Someone will be unfortunate enough to pick you up!" I yelled, driving off. He'd be fine.
Me, I had places to go, drugs to do, war's to protest, concerts to see; etc, etc.
I looked back in the mirror, checking for anything following me. Nothing was there but an empty road and the blue sky. No inconspicuous black car's following me.
See, there was this tiny little feud between me, the Soviet's, and good old America. I was a spy in '69 when I got nabbed by a Soviet and well… They experimented on me. To be honest, it was a bitch, only because they didn't have good drug's and they didn't like being very kind to the enemy. I still don't really know what the hell they did, but hey. Here's to hoping I'll never find out, right?
So, now I just play the friendly hippie, drifting across the States. No one knowing who I was, going to concerts and forgetting about the world; and hey. It was a good plan so far.
I leaned back and turned up the radio, hearing I Hear You Knocking come on, by Dave Edmunds. I turned it up, grinning and speeding through the open road, grinning the whole while.
Damn, I was on my way. Sure, I was armed to the teeth and in a stolen car with only five dollars, but who cares? I was on my way to the Big Apple to see the Doors, and nobody would find me.
I saw a town up ahead, and I stopped to get some snacks for the road, after all, Kansas was a pretty big state, who knows when they'll be another gas station
Ahem. Anyways, I was in the process of grabbing can's of coke and bag's of chips when a police car pulled up to a gas pump, with that man I beat up earlier in the back.
Oh. Shit.
I bent down behind the isles, waiting for the moment the cop would turn his back towards the store…
Then I ran, without paying, into the car. I heard the man's angry screams as I pulled off, back onto the road.
"Damn it. Fuckin' cops." I hissed as the cop tore out of the gas station after me, sirens blaring with his lights on. Just my luck, I finally get a car, and I'm going to get arrested. My blood raced as I pushed the pedal to the floor, trying to out run the cops. There was a detour sign in front of me, but I'd rather risk that than getting arrested. I crashed through the signs, swerving before I got the car back in control.
"Pull over." An older man commanded over the roar of the wind. I grinned, flipping him off. The cops all stopped, save one, and I ignored them, seeing the end of the road in front of me. There was a river not far below, and I could jump into it pretty safely. I grabbed my bag, situating it on my shoulder and opening the car door. The last police car slammed on it's breaks just as my tires left the road. I sprung out of the car, holding onto my bag for dear life.
I saw a few worried faces glance down at me, and I grinned saluting them before turning to the river, ready to dive into the cold water. Then, something happened. It was like I was falling, and then my body paused, mid air before I hit wet pavement instead of water. I shot up, my gun out and loaded, wondering what the fuck happened when the crowd around me screamed, backing away from me. The people around me were dressed strangely, most of them in red one piece suits.
"BACK UP! STAY BACK OR I'LL SHOOT!" I yelled, spinning around and pointing both guns at them. Where the hell was I? Who were these people?!
Suddenly, a red shirt pulled out some sort of device, and fired it at me. I shot as I fell, the bullet tearing into his shoulder. My vision went black, and I if I hit the ground, I never felt it.
I woke up, handcuffed to a table with some pointy haired freak in front of me. I tugged on the restraints, finding them solid. My red hair was eschew, but thankfully, my bandanna and sunglasses were still on. I huffed, taking a deep breath and glaring darkly at the man. He was wearing the same style clothes as the guy with the red shirt, but this guy's was blue.
He had funny eyebrow's and an emotionless face with dark hair. And those freaky pointy ears.
"Who the hell are you?" I spat, my finger's reaching under the cuff's and feeling a weak spot in the wire. There was a complicated hook-thing, that I could unhook if I was careful…
"You were arrested for public brutality. You attacked and verbally threatened civilians. That set aside, you also appeared out of nowhere." The man said, his voice strong and almost robotic, very emotionless. I propped my ankle up on my knee, leaning back.
"I don't know. I was falling off a cliff, waiting to hit the river and then 'bang'. There I was, a bunch of random people surrounding me with strange clothes on. Now, here I am, chained to a table with some weird guy with pointy ear's questioning me." I said, grinding my teeth together.
"So, where am I?" I asked, my finger's unhooking the wire. I sat there staring back innocently when the cuff's unlocked; luckily from the bottom so Pointy didn't know they were unlocked. Score.
"You are currently on planet Earth, in a Starfleet facility." He answered, and I stared.
"What the fuck is Starfleet?" I blurted, tensing. I didn't really want to be caught up with another secret agency that would fuck me up.
"You do not know what Starfleet is?" He asked, and I stared back.
"No. I don't know what Starfleet is, like I said the first time, all I know is that I somehow ended up here, wherever here is. I'm in America right?" I asked, anger rising. The man said nothing, just stood and walked out of the room, the door sliding closed behind him. That's weird, I've never seen a door do that.
I would have bolted then, but they were probably monitoring me, so I needed to play the hostage for a bit before I split.
The man walked back in, this time, with an older man. The older man was wearing that onesy looking thing, but his was grey with medals and government decorations on it. Well, I was shit out of luck.
"Jesus girl, what the hell are you wearing?" The older man said, and I scowled.
"Obviously clothes, dipshit." I said dryly. "So, for the third time. Where am I?"
"You're in San Francisco." He answered, and I frowned. I was in fucking Kansas. Now, I'm in San Francisco.
"That's bullshit. I've been to San Francisco, and it sure as hell doesn't look like that." I said, my voice hard and cold.
"What year is it?" The pointy eared man asked, and my jaw tightened. I was tired of these games. The pointy eared man stared, his face blank; while the old man glared at me, his eyes piercing and commanding.
"Why the hell do you want to know what year it is? You should know, it's common knowledge." I started, suspicious before the old man's glare hardened, pushing me to answer. "Last time I checked, it was 1971." I admitted, shrugging. I was careful to keep the cuff's on, just in case…
"She's not lying Admiral." The pointy eared man said, before the so called 'Admiral' dismissed him, leaving us by ourselves.
"You're about four hundred year's in the future. I don't know how you got here, but rest assured, we will try and get you home. You'll need to stay here, for the time being, just until we know you can adjust." He said, every word carefully measured and articulated. I blinked. The future, um…Well.
From what I've seen, that would explain it, so there's no use denying it. But I don't like the idea of being stuck here until I adjust. Call it a culture shock, I guess. I put my hand out to him, letting the cuffs fall off, grinning.
"My name's Ranger." I said, and the Admiral smiled back, which almost wiped the smile off my face. Something was definitely up here, and I don't think the Admiral had any intention of sending me home…yet, and his intention just showed in that smile. He led me out of the room, talking about this, that and the other, explaining that it would be dangerous to let me run around when I had no idea about how their society works.
Hmph. I was a liability and I had to stay here until the Admiral could find a use for me, was what he was saying.
Apparently I was going to be staying in the same facility as a man named John Harrison, who had been frozen for a good chunk of time. Then the questions about me came. I had to tell him who I was, and what I did, and I told him. I was a spy, weapons specialist, and I knew some medical shit.
Soon enough, I was shoved in a room that contained the man known as John Harrison. The Admiral, Admiral Marcus had left me to go meet a stranger by myself, only telling me where my room was. Well, thanks a bunch jackass. Luckily, they'd given me back my bag (minus the weapons), cut they hadn't found the weapons on me, so if this John Harrison was a psycho, I had back up.
The man, John, turned around, his eyes piercing and cold. I stared back emotionlessly, before pushing back my sunglasses. He had bright eyes set in a pale face with dark hair. He was in a dark grey suit, the same as the rest of them. Harrison's stance was hostile before it was forcibly relaxed.
I smiled just as forcibly. "Hi friend." I said from between my teeth. John looked pissed before his expression smoothed out.
"I'm your new roommate old man, in case dumbass didn't tell you." I said dismissively, walking towards my room, I accidentally reached for the door knob before jerking my hand back and tapping the key pad instead.
My room was plain, and reminded me of an asylum. Everything was white and alien to me. The walls were blank, and there was only a desk and a bed. Nothing else.
I sat on the bed, and sighed. Out of place, out of time. Everyone I know is dead, long dead. Dust to dust.
I laid back against the bed, and slept; dreaming of cold Soviet nights, running through the snow, trying to find Jack, my fellow spy. I woke the second my door opened, springing up with my switch blade slashing forward, my hand gun loaded and pointed straight at the door.
Harrison looked at me, his eyes bright and cold, and I lowered my weapons, replacing them into my boots.
"What?" I asked blunt and annoyed. What the hell dude, I was just trying to catch some zz's!
"Admiral Marcus told me that you're from the past." Harrison started, and I shrugged.
"So?"
Harrison's eyes pierced mine, and I could practically see an ulterior motive dancing behind his eyes. I was only so stupid, and I was a spy.
"What time period were you from?" He asked, and I smiled pleasantly.
"The Italian Renaissance, now get the fuck out." I said sweetly before my voice hardened, and I plopped back down on the bed, shutting my eyes. Damn I was tired. I would have fallen asleep, but Harrison was still standing there, his gaze digging into my forehead like a bullet.
"1971." I snapped, sitting up, and crossing my leg's on my bed. He nodded, like I had just answered a question correctly. Which, was kind of stupid, but whatever.
"And what did you do?" He pursued. My eyes narrowed as my irritation sky rocketed.
"If I tell you, will you leave?" I said, my voice cutting across the air. He nodded, like I didn't deserve a verbal response. I snorted, great, another guy I want to beat the shit out of. Ugh, the world was just full of these fuckers.
"I was a spy, weapon's specialist, and I know a little bit of bio-engineering." I said flatly. "Now get out."
Harrison backed up, looking as if he might say something else, but he didn't and left.
I went back to sleep, and when I woke up, there were instructions on how to use the computer system.
Thank fucking God, I was so bored, at least I could listen to some music. "Computer," I said, feeling a little stupid for talking to nothing. "Play 'Black Betty' by Lynard Skynard." I finished, and immediately, the music started playing, and I grinned.
Now, time to make an escape plan. I didn't trust the Admiral as far as I could throw him, and I'm pretty sure the guy had no intention of sending me back to '71. I also needed to figure out why the hell I even ended up here in the first place.
I wonder how the Cold War ended…I guess there wouldn't be a San Francisco if the Soviet's had won.
I dug through my bag, and found the picture of Jack. It was a black and white photo of him, but it was good enough. Just his face reminded me that I was better off alone, and never to trust anyone. Especially ones who are spies. Regardless, it was nice to have a connection. A reminder, a sentiment.
The song ended, and the computer informed me it had scanned my brain waves (I feel a little violated…) and has made a playlist (whatever the hell that is) of music that I would most likely enjoy. HOW FUCKING CREEPY IS THAT?!
Uggh, I need to get back to the seventies fast, before my head popped off. This shit was TOO freaky. Pointy eared guys, weird ass pale guys, old guys, guys in jumpsuits.
I walked out of my room, looking over at Harrison's work station, if that's even what it was. It had blue prints of weapons on it, advanced hollow weapons. Why hollow? I shook my head. Wasn't any of my business anyway.
I dug around, looking for any spare parts when I felt a presence behind me. A very silent asshole-like presence. Harrison.
"Just looking for shiny things…my A.D.D kicking in, I'll be out of your way in a minute…" I said quietly, grabbing an arm full of different knickknacks before carrying it into my room. Harrison didn't care; or at least I though he didn't, until he spoke.
"The computer can give you adequate information about each part." He called, just as the door shut. The words themselves were friendly, but his voice was deep and cold, slithering across the air unpleasantly. He knew what I was doing, what I was planning…but I didn't know his angle. The thought was of it was unpleasant.
"Computer, play music, make sure it's obnoxiously loud." I said, smiling as a song played. I didn't know what it was called, but 'Hope it gives you Hell' was the chorus and man, I could just imagine Harrison's scowl at the music. I dropped all the parts on the floor, and looked at them individually. They were pretty advanced, but I could make some sort of weapon out of it, from what the computer told me, and the weapons I had now….
It took all night, melting things and EXPLICITY telling the computer to keep this between me and it, and NO ONE else, but I finally finished it. I had to salvage some piping from the wall behind me that operated Harrison's shower, but I'm sure he won't mind. Or if he did, I really didn't care either way.
When it was done, it looked pretty strange. It was a long spear looking thing, with a blade on the one end of it. The other end had a trigger and a barrel. It looked like a mix between a shot-gun, one of those old war gun's with the bayonet on the end and one of those laser guns. The gun was long and silver, gear's jutting out of it near the trigger. It was heavier than I was used to, but it would be easy enough for me to hide.
I stuffed it under my bed, kicked off my boots and crawled under the blankets, falling asleep. I would be out of here in no time, and I would find my own way back to 1971. After all, there's a reason I'm not a spy anymore. All governments are corrupt; a black heart in a golden statue, and they all look out for their interests, not mine. They only pursued their own goals, and the people who rallied behind them found nothing but ash. Hollow, black, cold ash that twisted us, broke us and made our world plunge into a dark abyss.
Disgust swelled in my chest and tasted bitter in my mouth. The future was no better than the past, but regardless. I need to get home.
1971 seemed so far away, lying on this white bed, that for a moment I felt lost. But then sleep crashed on me, and all I saw were cold Soviet nights. Long, cold Soviet nights.