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  I Hate Time Travellers

  By

  Lee J Isserow

  Copyright © 2016 Lee Isserow

  All rights reserved.

  1

  It was August 25th 2010, exactly five years, eight months and three days since T-Day. That's what they were calling it now, although it had been through many derivations of name over the years and a multitude of branding overhauls in that time. At first it was referred to as 'The Happening', but that just brought back terrible memories of the M. Night Shyamalan movie that bored the hell out of millions of film patrons just a few years previous. 'The Event' didn't last long either, for not dissimilar reasons. 'T.S. Day' was the name of choice for a little while, but that too was laid to rest, as the conservative media weren't particularly comfortable with conjuring images of gender transition whenever they discussed the fundamental change in the human race that had occurred. Of course, a letter 'T' followed by a hyphen had been used by the trans and crossdressing community for some time, but by that point, nobody seemed to notice or mind. They were all too busy travelling through time and space to care.

  All of them except Luke Denton and around a thousand other souls who'd been left behind whilst the rest of the human race were evolved against their will, by a force conspiracy theorists around the world had put down to anything from governmental to extra terrestrial tinkering.

  Each of these non-travellers, or 'NTs' had a story, each of them as boring as the last. Luke's story was based solely on unfortunate timing. Had the boiler in his apartment not gone out, and the electricity not followed soon after, he would have never ventured down to the basement. If he had just looked out the window, rather than obsessing over the failing utilities, he would have seen the night sky glow a violet hue, street lamps flicker and die as clouds dissipated, followed by the stars blinking out of view one by one. When the purple faded from the stratosphere, it was replaced by darkness. A silent planet in the black. Once a hub of radio activity emanating into space, now a silent void.

  Time passed. Nobody could say how long. Then, one by one the stars returned, winking back into existence. Normality resumed. But everyone who was above ground while the spectacle occurred was now far from normal. In the initial panic, terrified governments threw billions at scientists, trying in vain to restrict travelling - but it was nigh on impossible. However, after the initial months of mass migration, population numbers were not actually that dissimilar to how they were before T-Day. With borders being entirely irrelevant, nation states finally put their differences aside and declared the United Nations the centralized home of world government. Oppression and persecution swiftly ended, because those threatened with oppression and persecution could be anywhere else at the drop of a hat - and now that transport costs were entirely negated, feeding and watering the third world was a task anyone with some free time could do.

  The world had become a utopia. Not that anyone would call it as such, seeing as they all still had to earn money. So despite living in a paradise where time had little meaning any longer, the denizens of the planet still grumbled.

  Although few grumbled as much as Luke. He had, in the last half-decade, trawled the internet and watched hundreds of videos of the event, witnessing vicariously what he missed through handy-cam eyes. The others all seemed entirely disinterested in re-watching the marvel – mostly because they were the constantly back-and-forthing through their recent chronology.

  At one point, desperate to be like the rest of the human race, he begged his roommate Kyle to take him back to T-Day, or at the very least travel back to and stop him from heading down to the basement (it's not like he managed to work out how to fix the electricity or boiler anyway). But the plan was to no avail. He had heard rumours and they turned out to be true; travellers could not go back to before they gained their ability, and even if it were possible, there were tangential factors at work that as a non-traveller he could barely attempt to try to wrap his head around.

  However, that was years ago, when he still cared. Luke had long since given up the dream of being like everyone else, and resigned to the fact that he would never know what it was like to travel through time, other than in the normal (and distinctly boring) linear fashion.

  At the present moment, unable to relocate in the blink of an eye as he deeply wished he could, Luke was sitting on the couch in his apartment while his roommate Kyle was standing with his hands at his zipper, offering to urinate on him.

  “It'll totally work.” said Kyle.

  “It won't.”

  “You won't know 'til you try it.”

  “Then I guess I'll never know.”

  “Aren't you in the least bit curious?”

  “Are we talking sexually or scientifically?”

  “Scientifically.” said Kyle “for you..” he continued “and sexually for me!” he had a wicked grin on his face, as fingers twitched at his fly like a perverted gun-slinger ready to quick-draw his phallic weapon. “And probably sexually for you too.” he added.

  “You know what?” said Luke. “I'm ok not being pissed on, and not discovering if it'll send me through time.”

  Kyle withdrew his hand from his zipper, defeated, and dropped down next to him on the couch, bouncing on the fatigued, squeaking springs.

  “You're boring.” he said.

  “Boring, and not covered in piss.” said Luke.

  Kyle giggled, having entertained himself once again by being lewd in the direction of his oldest friend. He looked at Luke and caught sight of the clock over his shoulder, it was eight-thirty.

  “Dammit, got to go.” said the water-sports enthusiast, standing upright with a start.

  “What?” said Luke, but his words were heard by no-one but himself.

  Fingers of semi-translucent light appeared around Kyle momentarily, wrapping themselves around him and pulled him into the vortex of his own time-stream. In an instant, both he and the ethereal light were gone, leaving nothing but a sprinkling of what scientists called 'particle remnants of a vortex distortion'. Luke called it 'pixie dust'. His attention was diverted to the other side of the room, where tentacles of light pulled reality apart, the rays distorting the walls and furniture behind, refracting the world around the vortex. But not for long; in a split-second, the light had vanished as quickly as it appeared, and Kyle had materialized by the front door with a woman, pixie dust following the folds of their clothes, and falling to the ground, dissipating before it hit the floor. Although Luke had experienced this too many times to count, he still did a double-take.

  “It's fuck time!” Kyle declared loudly, taking his female friend to his bedroom.

  “You're a romantic and classy bitch.” Luke said to deaf ears, as the door slammed behind the couple.

  He reached for the TV remote on the other side of the couch, then stopped and turned to Kyle's room. He couldn't be certain, but the 'female' Kyle had just escorted into his lair might well have been another iteration of his roommate in drag. He tried not to dwell on it, and turned back to reach for the remote, only to be blinded by a flash of light, finding Kyle sitting directly in the way.

  “What'cha gonna watch?” he asked, sitting in nothing but his underwear, pixie dust rolling down his chest, pooling in the hair around his belly button before melting into nothingness.

  “Finished so soon?” Luke asked, smiling as he mocked his friend's sexual inadequacy.

  “You're a funny little no-sex-having-man.” he responded. “He's in the – wait, no – She's in the bathroom, and I was bored.”

  “Is 'she' you?” Luke asked

  “That seems irrelevant.” said Kyle.

  “I'm just saying, if she isn't you, then she's prob
ably in the bathroom throwing up after having seen your hideously malformed genitalia.”

  “You know what, that cock ring goes with my eyes, everyone says so - even your mum.”

  “She's still dead you know.”

  “I've never heard her complain.”

  “It's been ten years. Why do you still go there?”

  “She was my biggest fan. Now, if you'll excuse me.” Kyle was gone in a flash.

  Once the stars had fled from Luke's vision, he tried to reach for the remote again, only to have yet another nearby burst of light blind him all over again.

  “Is she still in the bathroom?” asked Luke, after the newly returned stars had cleared from his gaze.

  “Nah, she's asleep.” replied Kyle.

  “I banged him – wait, her – all the way back to last year. Literally.”

  “We didn't live here a year ago...” Luke responded.

  “I know.” said Kyle. “That couple seemed kinda pissed.”

  “Well that explains last month...”

  “When the angry naked guy woke you up with a punch?”

  “Yeah. That's why I wanted to swap rooms with you.”

  “It's probably entirely unrelated.” said Kyle.

  “An apology would be nice.” said Luke, reaching for his jaw where the nude ogre had pummelled him the month previous. But he discovered he was talking to a trail of sparkles descending into the crevasses of the couch, blinking themselves into oblivion.

  The silence didn't last long, soon interrupted by grunts and squeals from Kyle's room. Either a pig had travelled in to their apartment – as had been documented in a fair few 'and finally' stories on the news – or Kyle and his 'female' friend had commenced their love-making. Luke decided it was the latter and retreated to his room on the opposite side of the flat, where he could relieve his ears of the carnal soundscape. He settled into bed and could feel the blissful embrace of sleep not far off when a tickle in his nose sent a violent sneeze through his body, shaking him awake. Standing next to him by the bed he saw pixie dust roll down a naked body, and a cock ring glistening in the moonlight.

  “Got any condoms?” Kyle inquired, erect and proud.

  “Got any clothes?” Luke responded, rolling over to get the cock ring out of his immediate view, desperate for the sanctuary of sleep.

  “Not to hand, no. Give me rubbers!”

  “What time is it?” asked Luke.

  “One-ish maybe.” Kyle responded.

  “Come back in eight hours.” he decreed.

  “But that's forever away!” Kyle whined.

  “You're a Goddamn time traveller.” said Luke, putting a pillow over his head.

  “Oh. Right.” replied Kyle departing for the future.

  Luke closed his eyes tight, and prayed silently that he wasn't about to dream of mangled genitalia.

  2

  Dawn had long broken, the sun was starting its ascent across the morning sky, rays reaching through Luke's venetian blinds. Warm fingers of light stretched over his legs and body, reaching up over his face, as if attempting to poke him in the eye to wake him from his slumber. The sun wasn't to be the one to wake him. With a flash, Kyle was standing over him, cock ring now reflecting kaleidoscopes of morning light across the room. He lent down to Luke's level, bringing his face unnecessarily close to his sleeping roommate's ear.

  “Condoms!” he screamed at Luke, waking him with a start.

  Luke chuckled to himself.

  “Haven't got any.” he said, sitting up.

  “But you said - -”

  “- - I forgot to set my alarm.” Luke interrupted, getting out of the other side of the bed so as not to have to interact with his naked friend.

  “Bastardo.” Kyle muttered, as he disappeared into the vortex.

  Pleased with himself, Luke walked to the door, to find it half-open. He pushed the handle, only to greeted by water cascading down upon him, followed by a plastic bucket bouncing off his skull. Kyle was sitting on the couch, cackling to himself.

  “I told you I'd get my revenge...”

  * * * *

  After T-Day, instances of practical jokes went up almost 60,000%. It seemed that the entire human race had a secret desire to put one another in harm's way just so everyone else could have a good laugh at their expense.

  * * * *

  “You said no such thing.” said Luke, rubbing his head where the bucket had impacted.

  “Well I thought it, and that's half the battle.”

  “Right.” said Luke, not wishing to carry on the conversation. “Well, I guess I don't need a shower now...” He turned back into his room. “Dry that up or the carpet will get mouldy” he shouted as he slammed the door.

  “You mom's mouldy.” Kyle shouted back, still laughing to himself.

  Ten minutes later, Luke walked out of his room, ready for work. He didn't bother saying goodbye to Kyle, who was still laughing to himself.

  * * * *

  Since T-Day, public transport had become superfluous to every-day life for 99.9% of the population. Cities had been swiftly restructured to accommodate for everyone's new-found ability, and abolishing public transport had been part of the initiative. Transport workers moved into civil service jobs; whereas once they had moved people around, now they moved legislation forward, or at the very least moved papers from one desk to another.

  * * * *

  Luke had been forced to walk everywhere for the best part of the last five years. The streets were empty, as they were every day at this time in the morning. Nobody walked work, so he pretty much the the roads to himself, occasionally getting glances of confusion from people looking out from their windows. Even though only a half decade had passed, it was still a strange sight for a traveller to see someone physically walking to work. After 40 minutes Luke finally arrived through the now barely-used door of ESS; Eco Spacetravel Solutions, the world's premier manufacturer of parts for space-bound vehicles. Since air travel had been made redundant, and cars were only traded by collectors, space travel was the new and exciting method of transport.

  Travellers, despite being able to relocate anywhere or any-when since T-Day, were locked to the earth. They couldn't transport to mid-air, nor could they teleport themselves to environments which were unable to sustain them. It was as if the subconscious refused to let a traveller do harm to themselves. All of this was entirely unrelated to Luke’s job, which was restricted to answering phones. He barely interacted with the other employees at ESS, as the building was constructed post-T-day, meaning that staircases and elevator's hadn't even been considered. The only staff member he saw on a regular basis was Ian Falco, his colleague on the front desk. Ian was former army and still look the part; bulked up like a behemoth, crew cut, with a selection of scars that occasionally sneaked out beneath his shirt's collar and cuffs. Despite once being professional weapon of Her Majesty, Falco seemed to enjoy the mundanity of his present occupation. All armies had been disbanded after T-day; governments realized there was no point in conflict since borders were irrevocably open. Now, the one-time man-of-war was reduced to forwarding calls to scientists who more often than not refused to take them, and to Luke's amazement, he never once committed a brutal act of murder whilst sat behind the front desk. Ian teleported into his chair, pixie dust rolling down his mammoth body.

  “Do you smell of piss?” he asked Luke.

  It hadn't occurred to him why the smell had haunted his walk – now he realized why his roommate found the practical joke so funny.

  “Apparently so. I might have to stab Kyle in the face when I get home.”

  A phone on the desk rang. The two men looked at one another, lifted their fists, and after three threw them down. Ian's rock to Luke's scissors.

  “You cheated.”

  “Every day…” Ian said.

  Reluctantly, Luke picked up the first call. “Hello, Eco Spacetravel Solutions...”

  3

  Luke returned to the apartment, catching his breath on th
e climb up the stairs. The smell of urine that was still lingering had now seemingly been given new life by the thin layer of sweat on his forehead. He walked through the door to discover the room vacant, but the sink full of dishes. With a burst of pixie dust, Kyle appeared.

  “You're covered piss!" he snorted, through laughter.

  Luke swiped at him - but he vanished as swiftly as he appeared. Rather than stew in urine, he decided to take a shower, only to find that when he pulled the shower curtain back, the tap was missing. The sound of laughter grabbed his attention, and he turned to the living room to discover Kyle holding it.

  “I've got your knob." he said through guffaws, throwing it over to him.

  “You're nowhere near as funny as you think... do the washing up." he said, heading back to the shower.

  “I did it last time."

  “No you didn't…"

  Kyle disappeared, and Luke turned to go back to the shower, when a voice came from behind the shower curtain.

  “I did now! Your turn."

  Luke sighed as he waited for Kyle to exit and shut the bathroom door, continuing to chuckle from behind it.

  * * * *

  Household chores were another example of where time travellers misused their ability. Living with one was especially annoying, because whenever it was their turn to do a task, they or one of their future or past selves would inevitably travel back in time and do it on the previous occasion.

  In short; it was always the non-travellers turn to do chores.

  * * * *

  Having cleansed himself of the aroma of stale piss, Luke returned to the living room in fresh clothes.

  “What are you up to tonight?" asked Kyle, seemingly done with his daily dose of laughter.

  “What did you have in mind?" Luke enquired hesitantly, aware that his question was more than likely to promote a scatological response.

  “Drinks, dancing, drinks, girls, drinks - you know, the usual."

  'The usual' was not Luke's favourite. Drinking to excess with Kyle often resulted in him starting a fight, and time traveller fights would inevitably turn into epic battles, as the initial two competitors found themselves joined by their drunken future selves ready for a brawl.