Chapter 1: Kyle Delso – March 5, 2156
My clock started its morning chime at around 5:30 A.M., the typical time in which I woke myself and prepared for the day ahead, yet this in particular day – March 5, 2156 – I couldn't quite bring myself to the task pulling myself from the comfort of my sheets, so I let the annoying piece of machinery continue its little song, its high pitched ring failing to rattle my nerves. Maybe it was time to program a new tune, I had gotten so used to the sound that it now fail to irritate me to the point of leaving the confines of my room. No doubt I'd have to find I new, even more irritating tone for this blasted piece of machinery. Eventually however my mind took control of my body and out of the bed I went.
After a nice warm shower, I through some bread into the toaster, and went back to my room to lay out my choice in clothing for the day. A nice clean, white dress shirt and slacks would do nicely. Slipping into these clothes went by quick, and I struggled with the tie for a second or two before finally getting it right.
When I reentered the kitchen my nostrils were quickly filled with the smell of smoke, which of course ended up being my toast, stuck in the machine nice and cozy.
"Shit," I murmured under my breath, grabbing a fork and quickly flicking the burnt squares out before looking over at the clock. 5:42, no time to make another batch, so throwing caring the burning pieces of bread in my hands I made my way out the door and ate them on the walk down to the subway. I needed too buy a new toaster anyway, so maybe this was a good excuse.
On my way to the work, I couldn't help but notice the magazines that were laid out on the Blue Strike trains rackets. One's cover involved a possible affair by some USCM general, another involved whether or not a female tennis player was a man or not, and of course their was the one about government conspiracies (there always had to be ones of those somewhere onboard).
Always interested in this type of paranoia induced bullshit I picked it up, its titles being "The Lies of Corruption", which I had to admit had one of the poorest titles I ever heard. First story was that the USCM was covering up a war with a three headed alien race that sucked out people's brains, which had me laughing out loud, catching the attention of several other passengers, and another about how a virus was wiping out most of the outer colonies.
The final one actually caught my attention most, and this one read that the tragedy that had occurred on the colony Hadley's Hope a few years back had not been caused by a meltdown, but by an unknown alien species that had viciously killed the entire population and the USCM rescue team. 'Oh come on, how ridiculous', I thought to myself. I saw the news coverage when that even had happened, their hadn't been a rescue team because the place was blown sky high. No need to rescue the dead. Alien species, everything these paranoid fruits called a conspiracy always had to have aliens thrown in somewhere. These people just had to much time on their hands. Probably saw fast food commercials and thought that the government was feeding them people.
I laughed about that thought for a second. 'People Burgers Traumatize Youth', now that's a story I'd read. Tired of this alien bullshit, it loses is humor after awhile, and readings these things I expect to get a laugh, and aliens just weren't funny anymore.
The train finally arrived at my destination where I promptly disposed of the tabloid, walking towards the offices. Wilbin's sales, that's where I had to drag my sorry ass every day. Had to talk to disgruntled clients about things they bough and now wanted to bitch about with the threat of suing the company . How fun that always was, especially when the individual had been drinking, then it made for some excitement.
As I entered I bumped into my friend, Jerry who I promptly slapped on the back.
"Heya Jerry," I said good naturedly, with a smile.
"You're late," he grunted in response stirring his cup of coffee is a stale manner that for some reason irritated me for reasons I really don't understand, but I couldn't help but thinking about grabbing it and stabbing him in the eye with that frickin' thing.
"What's wrong?" I asked, even though at this point I was as enthusiastic about talking to Jerry, because you could judge his mood for the day simply by the way he responded. In fact I didn't even want to really know what was wrong, I just didn't want him thinking I was a total asshole.
"My wife's leavin' me, Kyle," he said angrily, glaring directly at me . He was a short, plump little man, defiantly wouldn't come across as big as myself, but his eyes could throw a mental punch, which made me flinch in response. "Something a little skimp like you wouldn't understand. I'm going to be taking some time off now, and get away from this fucking inferno."
"Well I'm sorry," I said taking a gulp of saliva. I didn't care about his personal life, but getting in a fight with this guy would only throw my day's pace off even more, so screw it I'll just play nice. Just don't say anything stupid like 'is there anything I can do?' I knew I needed to stay out of this shit at all costs.
"Well, Kyle, you better get up to work now. Boss has someone waiting to gripe for ya." And with that Jerry left the building, never to be seen by me or my co-workers ever again. Of course at the time I didn't really care I had another day of my life to waste away on worthless clients who wanted nothing more then to screw around with me and make my life a living hell.
After four six consecutive hours of bullshit, 6:00 all the way to 12:00 I had to put up with complaints ranging from air conditioners, light bulbs and televisions, and every single time the idiot who had come to complain thought I was some sort of God damn repair man. I don't know how to assemble this shit, I just know whether or not we're gonna give you any money or not.
I couldn't have been more relived when the lunch break finally came around, I practically jumped out of my shoes! This had been one of the worst days on the job in years, but at least I got to leave the business early, no more complaints for Kyle Delso, no more today then there'd be that nice weekend. For two days I'd control my life.
That being said, I didn't hate my job, but nothing could beat a nice two day break, and I mean nothing. When I reached the subway I felt like a new man, completely free of the system.
Making myself right at home on the train ride back home I found myself sprawled across my chair in the most relaxed position possible, when suddenly the entire cabin seemed to shutter violently. People were falling out of their seats (myself included!) magazines and drinks slid right across the smooth surface of the floor and then everything became smooth again. Of course soon I had to put up with cries from various other passengers who accused the tremors of being the work of terrorists or some other unlikely chain of events. I simply decided to block it all out and wait until the train stopped, and then all I did was simply step off and walk towards my apartment, open the door and make myself right at home.
Once I shut the door and locked it behind me I began to slowly make my way into my home, undoing my clothes as I did so, grabbing the remote and turning on the television monitor as I changed into something more casual.
"-the supply craft which plowed across central avenue, demolishing two buildings and killing fifty people has yes to be entered by government officials, but they assure us that they are handling this calmly."
Looking over at the screen with a peak of entrance I sat down on the couch and began to intently watch the program. Well, now I know what caused the earthquake.
"-The vessel 'Grapes of Thunder' was carrying a large load of metals, and other natural resources and was expected to dock within the city's port at 1:30 this afternoon, but complications arose when dock workers failed to make contact with the pilot or crew. The vessel, apparently out off control sped down and crashed through the city. As you can see behind me we have several government officials and members of the USCM ready to check and see if this was the work of terrorists or a system malfunction. More on this story as it develops."
"Heh," I laughed to myself. Could you believe that? Space ship crash on an inhabited world, what were the odds of that? One in one thousand? What about crashing into the city? One in one billion? This certainly makes for an interesting start to a weekend.
