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The 11th Day
By RaptureManD
THE 11TH DAY
We were the few, the proud, the expendable "lab rats" of our time. We had been chosen because we were the best of the best of the best. Drafted, and the government controlled our destinies now.
In the last decade, science had advanced far beyond our wildest dreams. The impossible had become possible, the possible probable, and the probable a near certainty. The newest experiments had sparked tremendous controversy around the world. Had all the dreams of mankind finally been realized? Had humans become the master of time and space? The answer, it seemed, was yes.
I was trained as an assassin, a soldier able to kill in cold blood. I am part of a group of nine, the first to embark on a hypothetical voyage across time itself. The "time machines" as they were sometimes called, were simple pods filled with a thick chemical that would alter our bodies, readying us for the extreme change that would occur in a milisecond. No one knew what actually would happen, save the scientists who designed it and the powers that be in our government. Even we didn't know.
I laid in red gel, an oxygen mask covering my face. The short experience was uncomfortable, like hitting your funny bone only all over. My world changed and the suicide mission began, for although they knew how to send us, they didn't know how to bring us back.
The first thing I noticed was the fact that the gel and mask and pod were all gone. The second thing was that I was lying on my back in a narrow aisle of a large airplane. Right where I was supposed to be. It worked.
I knew that three of my comrades were in similar situations, while the other five were headed for desert regions.
I knew what I had to do. My mission was none other than changing the course of history.
At the front of the plane, a man was shouting in heavily accented English punctuated with curses in his native toungue. A weapon was in his hand, the bodies of the pilot and two flight attendants lay, weeping great pools of blood onto the carpeting.
I crawled along the aisle on the other side of the plan from the man. He was focused on the passengers and they him, so neither noticed me as i drew my Glock silently. I tensed, ready to spring and shoot.
Suddenly, to my horror, the radio on my belt that connected my to my team crackled to life. As all of the attention turned to me, I heard garbled screams issuing from the device. The mission was going down before my eyes.
Relying on years of military training, I shot the man before he could react with firepower. He was dead before he hit the floor, a hole in his head. Ignoring the terrified screams of the passengers behind me, I strode as calmly as I could to the cockpit.
When I opened the door, I saw another man. But he was ready, and fast. I felt the knife slice my jugular and then felt the hot blood spray the controls. I screamed. I was going to die.
Mustering my remaining strength, I lifted my gun swiftly and fired. He crumpled to the ground, his blodd mising with mine.
I fell, my hand clutching my neck. The plane lurched into a dive and I slid under the pilot's chair. A strange peace came over me as my life faded away.
I smiled. History couldn't be changed. What fools we all were. Man can not ordain the laws of time and space. Such a privilege belongs to a being infinitely more wise. Why should humankind have such power at its disposal?
The plane continued to fall. I knew where it would hit: a lonely field in Pennsylvania on this infamous morning.
History could never change. The 11th day would continue.
"The 11th Day" is the first of a small series of short stories that I wish to post. Another may be up in a couple of days. Thanks for reading.
-Rapture Man D.
8/17/2002 12:56:47 PM
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