Note from author: Hello one and all! Here's the new chapter of SG! Woot! 007's second half of naration. I admit, I went slightly mad with him quoting Shakespeare, but only a little. Thank goodness for the internet. Besides, my English teachers would expect me to add Shakespeare given the situation. On another note, with the English dub of Cyborg 009, the guy who did 007's voice didn't do a very convincing English accent. It's not a major thing, given how many accents ther ought to be, but still... Never mind. More from this and Trick of the Devil to come after I've slep for a couple of days and written and edited the new chapters. Untill then1 Arrivaderci!
Chapter six - Et tu, Black Ghost?
Remember G.B, I think back to. "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages."
Now that I'm in an actual jam I can't actually remember who said those words to me. It's going to really annoy me until I figure out who said it, or even, if I just quoted it to myself just before my first audition to make myself feel better. Either way, I can't stop thinking that this entire situation feels like another play, just, with a bigger stage and an end we haven't rehearsed yet. We all seemingly have parts to play and now our lives are integrated like the cast in a performance.
For the past half hour my fellows in this freakish charade have been explaining the crisis to me. The 'future war plan', Black Ghost, cybernetics, secrecy, kidnapping, international warfare and the definite factor that our lives are in mortal peril. There's even a whole entourage of cyborgs like me with weird and wonderful powers; my fellow victims in the whole thing. We plan to break out as soon as the shift changes in an hour's time. For the outside world and away from here. There aren't words enough to describe what I'm feeling right now.
Holy buggering hell!! I yell out.
Damn it. Fifteen years I save up my favourite quote from Hamlet for a moment like this (Well, maybe not like this, but, you know what I mean.) and I waste the moment! Damn it all to hell and back again! This sort of thing only ever comes once in a lifetime!
Oh, everyone's looking at me. Whoops.
So um, I say. Anything good on the menu then chaps?
No, says the short guy with the moustache. There's only this complete bunch of ABSOLUTE RUBBISH that's nothing more than raw meat fried in grease!!
Doesn't sound too bad to be honest. I'm absolutely starved and thus, I could eat anything. The short guy snorts and calls the food something I don't quite catch. The boy with the red hair slides a tray along the table to me.
Here, I ain't never eatin' that crap again, He says. Help yourself, baldy.
I'll have you know Mr Big-nose, I say, agitatedly. That I shave my head for dramatic effect!
And to cover the fact that you've got a hair-line that a comb-over won't cover any more. Says the voice.
Lies! It's simply not true! Damn it, I'm blushing from head to foot.
Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears! I say, taking my moment. This Black Ghost, this villain, villain, smiling, damned villain has denied us all our beloved freedom. I make it my personal mission to thus forward our pursuit for liberty and find a new dawn!
Silence, complete and total silence.
God, you people are the worst audience I've had in years, I say. But regardless, you're the first audience I've had in years and no actor can choose such things. The show must go on! Thus, I shall act once again! The return of the Great Britain!
Once again, complete silence. The pale blonde girl raises an eyebrow, mutters something in French (With my limited high-school knowledge of French all I made out was fatiguée) and sits down on the nearest bed. The tall man gives a concerned look.
You are ill, 003, He says. Perhaps we need to postpone things until you are well…
No, She says. This might be our only chance. Besides, it's this place that's doing this. I'll feel better once I'm out…
As I was saying, I say, in my best voice. Was that one simply cannot eat an orange and throw away the peel! A man is not a piece of fruit!
Would you QUIT with the Shakespeare already?! Ask big-nose. It's driving me nuts!
Actually that last one was Arthur Miller, I say indignantly. Just because dear Mr Shakespeare happens to be my favourite playwright it doesn't mean I can't be varied! Honestly…
He snorts and sits down on the second bed from mine. The man I fought earlier stands up and glances at the baby.
How are we doing for time? He says. What's going on?
Not jumpy, are we, 004? Asks the short guy.
Not that it matters, Retorts the man. But I think I have good reason to be. Especially since I've been here much longer than you, 006. I'm sick of this Hölle after all these years.
Remind me again, would you? I say, before anything turns nasty. Who's who, in terms of numbers, letters and all these zeros? Because, to be honest, the fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in the fact that I can't do numbers to save myself!"
Once again, silence. This is beginning to annoy me. Don't these people know any theatre at all?
I'm 001, explains the voice in my head. And no, I'm not Hamlet's father from beyond the grave. The one you keep calling 'Antonio' is 002, the girl who you think of as 'Ophelia' is 003. The man you fought and keep calling 'Hamlet' is 004. The tall man you call 'Benvolio' is 005 and the short man you keep calling 'Horatio' is 006. It shouldn't be much trouble.
I don't even understand why you're having trouble in the first place, Adds Ophelia, damn, I mean, 003. You're an actor right? Don't actors have good memories in the first place?
Damn, she got me. I'm not man enough to admit that three years of unemployment have made my memory tricks a bit rusty at the best of times. The girl sighs and puts her head in her hands, complaining quietly about too much noise in the place.
I find myself wondering, is this all a guilt-and-booze-induced hallucination after all this time? Could be, maybe… But then again, if I were dreaming I'd have more control over my audience and I wouldn't feel so damned hungry. Now that I can actually see the food I wouldn't touch it with a ten foot barge-pole.
The baby, 001, looks up.
It's time. He says, in our heads.
Without a word we all stand, in unison; in silence. But no, this silence is much more meaningful. It's like the silence one gets from the audience in a play when they know a tense moment is coming, but yet, they do not know it. And now, for us, the stage is set, the lights are on and the curtain is about to rise. Any moment. Any second now…
From behind us someone falls and lands with a nasty bump. We all turn at once to see.
Ophelia? Ophelia!! Miss 003! She's fainted, out for the count! Her face - paler than paper - shows fear and worry crossed with determination as we try to bring her around.
She won't wake up. 002 shakes her, rather violently and calls out to her.
003! 003! He yells. Wake the hell up!!!
004 looks up and suddenly his face changes.
We're too late, He says. We've missed our chance…
TRANSLATIONS
Hölle - Hell, in German
