Peter Prellwitz - Shards Book One

I continued to think through other alternative explanations, but couldn't make a very credible effort at it, I was so tired from my first journey into the puterverse. I could tell by her steady breathing that Susie had fallen asleep.

Sleep. I rolled over on my side and hugged my pillow, snuggling further into the sheets. This was, incredibly, my first night of unassisted, non-traumatized sleep in over six hundred years. I lay there, experiencing the differences and enjoying them. My nightwear was different. The mattress, because of my small weight, seemed bouncier, and I couldn't remember the last time I lay in a bed that was so much bigger than me. My position, curled up around a pillow instead of sprawled out with hands and feet over the edge, was different. Even the sleepiness I felt creeping over me was different, though I couldn't explain how. I wondered how long I would have these new sensations of everyday life. A long time, I hoped.

I just wished I had better thoughts to keep me company. Not that it mattered. Within moments of extinguishing the lights and plunging the room into total darkness, I was fast asleep. I don't remember what dreams I had that night, but they were my own.

"UP! Private Wyeth! GET UP!"

I shot straight up. I had worked myself completely under the sheets, so they were still over my head when I bolted. I yanked the sheet down, then as quickly pulled it up again. My top was pretty skimpy and protected my modesty enough from other women, but would turn the guys into drool machines. And this was a man's voice. A man's voice! I woke up completely. Someone was in our room!

I looked around quickly, but it was still pitch dark. I was about to ask for lights when he shouted again, this time right into my ear.

"What're you waiting for, Private? Breakfast in bed? On yer feet! You've got duty in forty-five minutes!

Move it, Wyeth!"

I nearly had a heart attack. I felt a fear that tasted slightly of the invasion of the interrog… the IH… from a couple days ago. He was apparently standing on my left, bent over me. I started to roll out on my right, to put the bed between us, when he growled at me again, this time right beside me.

"You're pretty lazy, ain't you? MOVE it! There's a ton of laundry that needs cleaning, and YOU'RE

doing it all!"

I jumped back against my bed. The frame hit the backs of my legs and I lost my balance and fell off the other side, landing with a thud and in a heap as I pulled the blankets and pillow on top of me. My legs were all over the place as I tried to get to my feet. He barked at me again.

"This is the last time, PRIVATE! Either you get going or I'm gonna personally…"

"Abigail?? Susie's sleepy voice slipped through the shout and it ended abruptly.

"Susie! Someone's in here!? My voice had a hint of hysteria in it, I was so unnerved at how quickly he moved.

She chuckled sleepily.? Silly. That's just the alarm. It's directional so only you can hear it. Sorry, I meant to tell you about it and show you how to set it, but I drifted off while we were still talking. Lights to dim, please.? The lights came on just enough to make the room glow with the pink darkness of approaching dawn. Susie rubbed the sleep from her eyes.? Time?? she asked softly.

"It's 0317, Corporal Lendler,? responded an equally soft male voice.

"Thank you. There you go, Abigail. Laundry detail is from 0400 to 1000. Better hustle if you want to clean up and eat before reporting. At least laundry is in the mess area. That'll save a couple minutes.

Don't be late, though. Jackson will put your pretty little butt in a sling if even a finger is late through that door."

I knew about soldiers like Jackson, though I'd never met her, or him. (That was interesting. Would I always think of an unknown person as a she first, then a he? I made a mental note to try to keep track of that.) I untangled myself from my sheets and started for my dresser. I pulled short and turned back to my messy bed, throwing it into shape. They probably had inspections.

"Don't worry about that, Abigail. I'll make it for you. Here.? She opened up my dresser and pulled out some stuff.? This is your standard uniform. And this,? She held up a sheer, black tube of stretchable cloth.? Is a body sheath. Put this on before you put on your underthings. In other words, first."

Although it appeared shapeless at first, I could make out that it was a covering for the torso and upper legs. It was one piece, stepped into from the neck. I frowned, a little uncomfortable.? Uhh… won't that make it a little hard to, um…"

"Use the bathroom? Yeah, it would, if you got a break to use it, which you won't. So don't drink a lot of juice. The sheath will keep you at least ten degrees cooler, but only when it's right up against your skin.

Secret of the dog. Now get going.? She started hustling me to the door.

"Shouldn't I put on a bath robe or something?"

"No time. Walk fast. There's no skirmishes planned for thirty-six hours, so no one should be up. The lights are pretty low, anyway. See you at ten hundred. Bye!"

She slapped me on the potential resident of Jackson 's sling and shoved me out the door, which allowed passage while remaining opaque; a very strange sensation. The corridor was thankfully deserted and dark. I half ran to the ladies room and made it without being seen. Once inside, I had the place to myself.

If you're a woman, or married to one, then you know that we just can't hurry getting ready. It seemed the faster I went, the worse it got. What's so different? As a guy, I'd use the bathroom, jump in the shower, soap up, rinse off, and get out. A quick towel off, dress, brush the hair roughly in place, brush the teeth roughly, hoping to leave them in place, and viola!, finished. Fifteen minutes if I didn't have to shave, twenty if I did. If I used thirty minutes, I was killing time. Well, a girl has the same number of arms, legs, teeth, and assorted body parts. Clothing is pretty much the same amount and put on pretty much the same way. Plus, I didn't have to shave yet, if women, or anyone, still shaved. So it should work the same way for a girl, right? It has to, right?

Forty minutes after stepping into the ladies room, I stepped out. My hair was much closer to seaweed than hair, the leftover soap making a credible substitute for sea foam. I skipped brushing my teeth. My clothes were on in more or less the right places, and facing in more or less the right directions, but they were wetter than my towel. Desert sand was wetter than my towel. I put my shoes on while hopping down the corridor on one foot, then switching. As I raced by my door, I shouted at it to open. I tossed my nightclothes, towel and things through it, and they disappeared from sight as they passed through the door's opaque plane. I didn't hear them hit, possibly because the sound shield was still on, but more probably because I was already too far down the corridor by the time they hit the floor. At least they went through the opening. Last night, before turning in, Susie had coded the door for my voice.

"Time, please!? I said.

"It's 0356, Private Wyeth!? the computer exclaimed back.

I ran into the mess and hit the mess line in a flurry. I was by myself except for Cookie, who was moving in and out of the kitchen, stocking up the bins. I grabbed a roll and stuffed it into my mouth, then washed it down with a small glass of juice, taking to mind Susie's warning. Licking my fingers of the sweet stuff from the roll, I walked to the laundry room, which was located on the wall behind the juice cart.

And couldn't get in. It remained solid.

"Time, please."

"0359 hours.? So I was on time, if only just. I'd make a point of getting up an extra fifteen minutes earlier until I'd beaten this new bath routine. I cleared my throat.