Title: Time Machine

Date: February, 2006

Author: Shades of Hades

Warnings: Government bashing, slight swearing and violence... that's probably about it.

A/N: Written for my short story writing class, even though this is far from a short story. What can I say, the government makes me angry. . It took me forever to decide to post this though, mainly because I wasn't sure if I was going to continue it, but after taking a history class in which we talked about Communism and Hitler I felt the need to continue.

By the by, this is my first time writing this genre, so don't be too harsh on me. Also, I would appreciate if someone could come up with a better name for this. I suck at names.

Chapter One

The first thing I noticed when I regained consciousness was the smell. Before I even opened my eyes, the smell of a city thick with pollution and death infiltrated my senses. My eyes opened, wide, unfocused, confused and burning with the smog that seem like a natural part of the air. My lungs were aching with every breath I took and my throat was quickly becoming raw from the coughing that wracked my body. Finally, breathing heavily, my body adjusted, and my eyes became clear. Before I could look around, a young face came into my view, blue eyes sparkling with concern.

“You okay, Mister?” His voice held a thread of nervousness, eyebrows drawing together as he looked me over. “You’re not hurt.” It wasn’t a question but rather a statement made with a sigh of relief. “I thought for sure you were about to keel over in front of my door.” He ran a hand through his hair as he stood, and I looked the young man up and down. He was dressed in what appeared to be a uniform, though I couldn't really tell what kind of business it could be from. The pants were a steel gray, not too different from the ones I'm wearing, though they look much too big for him, like they weren't his, or maybe that he has lost a lot of weight since he received them. The shirt was the same way, over-sized on his small frame as well as the same gray.

There was a logo on button up shirt.

I squinted at it. The company name was unfamiliar to me. I had thought I knew all the companies around here.

My heart skipped a beat, my confusion and excitement taking center stage.

The last thing I had remembered was working in one of the labs on the machine that had been commissioned by the American government. Like anything with the U.S. government, they were in a race with the Japanese to create a machine, which could truly move in the fourth dimension, or time travel if you will. Really, the race wasn’t unlike the one in the 60’s to reach the moon. I had devoted the majority of my life, albeit barely a decade considering I was barely into my early thirties, to the discovery of time travel. It had fascinated me since I was a child, thinking of what things I could discover, unknown, about history, about man itself, about our future. I had grown up with a lust for knowledge in science and history, anything that could bring me closer to my goal. It seemed as if all my dreams were coming true when I was hand picked by the government, fresh out of college, to be a part of this team, these geniuses that had been determined to take a concept and make it reality. I worked hard, constantly thinking about how it could work, what materials to use, the effects it would have on the human body, etcetera, etcetera. We had been faced with many failures and challenges, my lust for science only growing with each one that I conquered.

This project had become my life. I found myself constantly at the labs working on the machine, trying anything I could think of to get it to work, but I always seemed to fail. The best conducts seemed to do nothing for the machine, and every equation seemed to just lead to another dead end.

I remember, I had a new thought over dinner and had rushed to the labs to tinker around with the machine, thinking I finally had the answer after four long years of eating and sleeping this project. I had finally found the answer! All the equations seemed to clicked into place, and as I add the final touch to the machine, there was a bright light.

My eyes widened, and I stood quickly, blood rushing to my head as I did, my pulse pounding hard in my ears, blackness threatening at the edge of my consciousness. “What time is this?” I asked quickly and roughly of the stranger in front of me as I grabbed my head at the blinding pain that had shot through it.

He glanced at his watch, “Two forty four--”

“No!” I almost yelled, and if it wasn’t for the pain in my head, I might have. I gripped his shoulders hard, probably bruising his smooth, white skin, but right now I had no time for guilt. “What YEAR is it?” I asked forcefully, the throbbing in my head growing worse and worse as I stood waiting for his answer. He just stared at me as if I had gone crazy, and I’m sure if I was in his shoes - some stranger asking me violently what year it was - I would be giving that same look. But I’m wasn't in his shoes.

I looked around frantically at my unfamiliar surroundings, dirty, desolate, city streets, buildings as far as the eye could see, each one more high tech than the last, rising above the streets, as if trying to reach heaven, but not quite able to grasp it. I had to squint at the sunlight that glared off the industrial mess of forest growing out of the thick concrete. It was not at all the city I had left. The city I had left was clean, full of life, and although there had been buildings there was nothing like this sea of skyscrapers I see before me now. A small part of me hoped that our invention had truly failed and I hadn’t traveled though time at all, just to a different city that I did not recognize; any doubts I had were dashed however, when he finally answered me.

“2110,” the stranger told me, and I felt myself lose consciousness and pitch forward.