Part 2: A new hand - By Tim Stewart

Bloody bastard fucking cat buggery bollocks.
That was what was going through my mind as I tried to tie my shoelaces. With one hand, everything is a challenge, especially killing cats. I reflected on my luck, turning down Velcro shoes time and time again, only to have my hand bitten off in the middle of a universal Velcro shortage.
Back to the cat killing then…
I perched myself on top of my locker, with a piece of fish tied to a string, and a knife. It wasn't cruel, it was revenge.
Anyway, I dangled the fish about for a while, hoping to attract my nemesis. 'Fluffy, you're gonna pay...' I thought, 'You fucked with the wrong guy. I'm gonna open up a whole can of kitty whoop-ass.'
Bong strolled by, shaking his head sadly at the sight of me. I am getting kinda wild looking. I'm smoking a lot more dope recently, Doctors orders… Actually, the Doctors orders were, 'Go on, make friends with fluffy… Can't you see how sorry she is?' It seems fluffy has brought out a softer side in Susan… Oh well, she'll cope with the loss, I'm sure.
Hsssssss… Came the noise, Fluffy was close. I concentrated, tensed myself, ready to spring. I jiggled the fish about, getting ready to drop it and grab my knife.
Hsssssss… Hold on, I though, and looked round.
Fluffy was right behind me.
I screamed, I jumped, I hit my head off the ceiling, and fell to the floor. More than anything, I panicked. I got up and started running.
Fluffy came after me.
I started shouting for help. 'The cats going to kill me! HELP!! SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE!!!!'
Then I realised I was still dragging the fish. Then I ran into a door. Then… Well, I don't remember much.

No one asked me what I was doing, I think they expect this sort of thing from me nowadays.
It's really unfair. They don't understand the pressure I've been under. All the jobs I have to do, no thanks, no help… It would get to anyone eventually. Its not like the money is any good either. Working on a star-ship is a job for people who don't fit in, who have nothing better to do. I joined up just to get away from home. I had thought I'd work for a month or two, then quit, and have fun on a new planet.
Wrong.
I hadn't considered the small print on my contract.
Five years minimum service.
Fuck.
Three years later, I've saved up a small pile of cash, and I'm thinking, 'Hey, at least when you get out you'll have money to burn.'
Wrong.
My hand has been chewed off and I need to buy a new one.
There goes my pile of cash.
Fuck.

Five days later, we arrived at our destination, and proceeded to unload the cargo. This took all day, but the good news was that we had a few hours to ourselves after that.
I immediately took myself around the city to find myself a new hand.

'How much?' I gasped.
Things didn't look good at the city's top prosthetic agencies. I got out before they could deal a killer blow to my wallet.
I found a public information terminal, and looked up something a little more 'me'.
I found it.
'Bobby's Used Hands - Second-hand prosthetic and amputated hands for the modest of budget. - SPECIAL OFFER, BUY TWO GET ONE FREE-'

'Bobby's Used Hands' was down a back alley so full of rubbish it was barely visible. A homeless guy stopped me. 'Hey mister,' He said, 'You couldn't spare some change for some dope could you?'
I shook my head and carried on, knowing what the money would really be spent on. Coffee addicts were everywhere these days. It had been made illegal hundreds of years ago, when it was realised that half the world's population were turning into hopped-up psychos. It was hard to wipe out though, a lot of folks were willing to risk everything for just one cup. To my shame, I tried it once in school, and if it weren't for my friends, I would have been caught and likely executed.
Cow had once told me that the Captain on the ship he had previously worked on had been caught smuggling coffee in crates of marijuana. Cow was very lucky not to have been put to death, even though he knew nothing of it.

Anyway, I entered the shop, which was dimly lit, possibly to disguise the quality of the merchandise, or maybe they couldn't afford light bulbs. The place was dusty too. I had to wipe the display cabinets before I could see what was in them.
'Can I help you?' Said the shopkeeper, who had materialised behind me.
I jumped and span round, nearly knocking into him.
'S-sorry,' I stammered, 'Trauma, you know, from the war…' I lied.
'Ah, yes…' He said, stroking his little beard. 'Is that how you lost your hand?'
'Um, yes, sure was.' I said, relieved he believed me.
'Looks very neatly severed…' He said, still stroking the beard. Something in his eyes told me that he knew I was bullshitting, so I got to business.
'I need a new hand.' I said, holding up my stump.
'You don't say…' He replied. He walked over to the cabinets, and started pulling out hands for inspection.

'How about this one? Has only had two owners, Its in good shape, yes?'
'Hmm, it's a bit expensive…' I said, looking at the price tag.
'Well how much were you thinking of spending?'
I told him. He looked thoughtful.
'Oh, so it's like that hmm?' He rummaged around in the cabinet, and brought out a glass jar with a hand in it.
'How about this then? A real hand, only twenty five years old, of course, when I say twenty five, I mean twenty five at time of… well, you get the idea.'
'That's a woman's hand.'
'No it's not.'
'It is, look, its got nail polish and everything.'
'Ok, ok, If you're going to be choosy about it…'

This went on for about an hour. I couldn't afford anything decent, and was starting to despair, when I saw something in the corner that took my fancy. It was an old-fashioned hand, metallic, but it looked cool.
'What about that one?' I asked, pointing.
'Oh, umm…' He started. 'I could sell that to you, and you could afford it.'
'But?'
'But… Well, look, it's a bit silly really, emm, but its cursed.'
'Cursed?'
'You see, it's had fifteen owners so far, and they've all died horrible, horrible deaths.'
'I see…' I said, not knowing what to make of this information. My wallet knew what to make of it though, so I said, 'We all have to die sometime, I'll take it.'
Fitting was easy. I was given an injection; I fell asleep, and woke up with my new hand. Cool.
The hand was detachable, and I would have to take it off at night, when I wasn't using it. (Not that I would be using it at night of course, what would I be using it for then?)
Anyway, it didn't take me long to get used to it, and before I got back to the ship, I was almost taking it for granted. Excellent.

Back at the ship, I was greeted warmly.
'WHITE!' Shouted Major Tom from an open door, through his megaphone, 'WHERE THE JUMPING FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?'
I didn't bother trying to answer, I just ran up the ramp, and towards the living quarters. I was nearly there when I ran into Blane, Who was taking his dog, God, for a walk. He really loved his dog. I had hoped that God would take a disliking to Fluffy, but they quickly became the best of friends. It was clear that stereotype wasn't going to help me out much.
'Where were you?' Blane asked.
I showed him my new hand by way of explanation. He didn't seem hugely impressed.
'It's a bit twenties, isn't it?' He said.
'I like the retro look, so I went for it.' I replied.
'Yeah, well, I hope you're getting used to it, because our cargo shipment came early, and we've been loading it without you. You'd better go and help out.'
And so I did.
The upshot was that I got to show my new hand to everyone. Susan was very interested, although only because she told me she could have made a better job of attaching it. Oh well, it was nice to have her attention anyway, although Fluffy was following her around like a bad smell. I put my metallic middle finger up at him. 'Chew this, ya pussy.' I growled.

The following morning, Major Tom called us all to the canteen. This wasn't usual. The last time he had called us all to a meeting was the time the Gorilla was drifting into a star… but that's another, (and possibly a better,) story.
We sat around, wondering what had gone wrong this time. I noticed that Susan wasn't there either.
To my displeasure, Susan and Tom arrived together.
To my delight, Tom was heavily bandaged around the head. I had to turn a laughing fit into a coughing fit when I saw him. He looked angry. Very angry. His cheeks had turned that deep red of someone dying to punch someone, anyone, just for some stress-relief.
'Who did it?' He asked darkly.
I raised my hand. 'Sir, it was me, I had beans for breakfast.'
No one had time to laugh, so I'll just assume it was a witty comment. Tom leapt for me with a snarl and a punch, yes, definitely a punch. I fell back off my chair, and the major asshole pinned me to the floor.
'WHITE! WHEN I FIND OUT IT WAS YOU, IM GOING TO BREAK YOUR FACE AND BLAST YOU OFF INTO SPACE!'
It didn't seem the time to point out to him the little rhyme he had made, so I kept quiet as everyone dragged Tom off me.
'What's going on?' Said Blane.
'Someone,' Said Tom, resuming his menacing tone, and glaring straight at me, 'Came into my room last night and attacked me.'
There were gasps, and shocked responses, but Cow, who was the only one standing behind Tom, mouthed 'Nice one' and gave me the thumbs up.

Aska and Blane took Major Tom back to his room to calm down. Susan told us that he had been awoken by some noises in his room. Getting up to investigate, he noticed his cupboards had been rooted through, someone had been searching for something. That was the point when the intruder clubbed him over the head with his bedside lamp. He wasn't sure if anything was missing.
I really wish it had been me. At least I wouldn't have been assaulted for nothing, and of course, beating up Tom has long been a fantasy of mine.

It was that night I began to feel a little scared. I knew I hadn't done it, so that meant whoever did do it would be free to wander the ship. I started to freak out at the possibility of them coming into my room, searching through my things, (Not that I have anything to hide, of course not, nothing.) and clubbing me to death with my ancient African fertility symbol. I knew I wasn't supposed to, but I decided to leave my new hand on for the night, just in case.
I woke up again in the middle of the night, desperately needing take a leak. The toilet was outside my room, at the end of the hall, so I sleepily rolled out of bed, too tired and too full-bladdered to be more than vaguely fearful for my life, and went out the door.

Boom. Lights out.

I came around in the same spot. Everyone was looking down at me. They were all holding their noses. Why wasn't anyone helping me? Then I realised it would have been much nicer for all concerned if I had been attacked after I had used the bathroom.
Tom was the first to speak. He pointed at me accusingly.
'Got you, you little shit!'
'Buh?' I said.
'Who were you going to attack this time? Bong? Cow? Susan? Or maybe you were coming back to finish the job, eh? Thought you could take me out eh?'
'Wssuh?' I replied.
'You're in trouble now boy, this is mutiny, attacking crewmembers, stealing my cardkeys…'
'frnippy?' I riposted.
'Don't try and deny it! Where are my keys White?'
'I… I was just going to the bathroom…' I managed.
'A likely story!' Shouted Tom, seemingly ignoring the fact that I was lying in a puddle of supporting evidence.
'In all fairness sir,' Said Aska, 'His story does check out.'
'Sir,' Said Susan, 'I think you should come to medical bay with me, you're under a lot of stress, I'd better run a quick check up on you.'
'Hey, where's my hand?' I asked. 'Who took my hand?'
'For god's sake Susan, I'm fine!' Shouted Tom.
'Sorry sir, doctors orders.' Said Susan, leading the major prick away.
'Hey, what about me?' I asked, still lying on the floor.
'HAVE A SHOWER!' Everyone shouted.

I shuffled off to the showers, mumbling under my breath.
In the shower, I tried to count how many times I had been knocked out during my three years on-board. I gave up, repeated concussions had made it hard for me to count over on hundred. I wouldn't say I'm accident-prone, although I would say I'm a liar.
The shower sputtered, faltered, and cut out. I looked up, wondering what the problem was. I went over to the control-box, studied it thoughtfully for a moment, and hit it hard.

And then a computer-voice rang throughout the ship…
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

EMERGENCY! THIS SHIP WILL SELF DESTRUCT IN FIFTEEN MINUTES.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
ALL PERSONELL EVACUATE IN A CALM AND ORDERLY FASSION, WOMEN AND CHILDEREN FIRST, FOR THE COMFORT OF OTHERS, WE ADVISE NO SMOKING IN THE ESCAPE SHUTTLES.
THANKYOU FOR CHOOSING SELF-DESTRUCT-SYSTEMS MODEL 1112, THE ECONOMY WAY TO CUT YOUR LOSSES.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

'Please, please, please let that not be my fault.' I groaned as I ran out the door, skidded, ran back in to grab a towel, wrap it about me, and run out again.
I turned to see Susan rush out of sick bay.
'Susan!' I shouted over the klaxon, 'What's happened?'
'The card keys!' She shouted in reply.
'What?'
'The keys that were stolen from Tom! Whoever took them used them to trigger the self-destruct!'
'What can we do? Can we shut it off?' I yelled.
'Not unless we can get the keys back!'
'Isn't there a spare key?'
'I don't know! Only Tom knows!'
'Well where is he?'
'Err,' Susan looked a little embarrassed, just a little, 'I just sedated him.'
Cow, Bong and Phillipe had turned up, looking as panicked as I would expect from people with fourteen minutes to live, Susan turned to them and ordered them, 'You three! Go to Tom's room, search it, and I mean really search it, for some cardkeys, okay? If you find them, bring them to the bridge, understand?' They stood, uncertain for a moment, clearly wanting some explanation.
'Go! NOW!' Susan roared. That seemed to be all the explanation they wanted, they scarpered.
'Come on.' She grabbed my right arm, pulling me towards the lift that would take us to the bridge.
'Wait a minute.' She darted back into sickbay. I stood there like an idiot, holding my towel with my remaining hand. I wondered again where my new one was.
Susan returned a moment later with guns. Big guns.
She tossed me a pistol, keeping the huge rifle for herself, I caught the pistol awkwardly, trying not to let my towel drop. We took the elevator to the bridge, I took the opportunity to tuck my towel in, and asked Susan: 'Did someone take my hand after Tom knocked me out?'
'I don't know, were you wearing it?'
'Yeah, but when I came to, it was gone.'
She shrugged. 'It wasn't there when I got there.'
'Susan?' I said.
'Yes?'
'Why aren't we going to the escape shuttle? The insurance would cover the ship…'
She sighed, 'Yeah, sadly we don't have one.'
'What?' I shouted.
'Tom sold it to pay for our Christmas bonuses last year.'
'WHAT?'
'Remember we threatened mutiny if we didn't get our bonuses?'
'Yeah?'
'Tom couldn't afford it, so he had to sell something.'
'Well that was fucking ill-advised!' I shouted, then, more reflectively, 'I didn't even get my bonus.'
'Yes, because you set fire to the kitchen.'
'That was an accident!'
'Yeah, it always is isn't it?'

The doors opened to the bridge, the warning lights were flashing red everywhere. 'What are we doing here?' I asked.
'This is where the key-card has to be entered to trigger the self-destruct,' She said, taking a seat at a computer terminal. 'Fortunately, this room has video surveillance, so whoever it was, will be on here.'
She opened the video camera onscreen, rewound three minutes, and pressed play.
'I bet it was Tom.' I said. 'Please let it be Tom.' I said, eager to have something more against him.
'It wasn't,' Said Susan, 'He was with me the whole time.'
'Damn. Okay, I bet it was Aska or Blane, where are they anyway?'
Susan was silent, the doors on the video screen were opening… And no-one came through.
Or that's what it looked like.
I pointed, mouth opening and closing like a fish, 'Its, its, that's… that's my…'

And then it jumped out at me, knocking me to the floor with a solid metal punch. It rolled on the floor, sprang up on its fingers, and jumped at Susan before she could react, knocking the gun from her hand.
Then it went for the door, fingers moving like five legs at high speed, the cardkey hanging from a chain around its middle finger.

'My hand…' I said, dazedly.
'COME ON!' Shouted Susan, grabbing her gun. I did likewise, tearing after her, gun in hand, and towel threatening to come off at any minute.
Susan fired, missing the hand as it rounded a corner, we ran after it, but we were loosing ground. The thing was unnaturally fast. It went for an elevator, the doors closed before we could get anywhere near them.
'Stand back!' Yelled Susan, as she pumped a grenade into the rifle.
BOOOOOOOOOMMMMM
The doors were blasted inwards, trapping the hand under them. We both started firing.
'Wait!' I yelled, 'We might hit the card!'
'SHIT!' She exclaimed, and ran towards the elevator. The wreckage of the doors moved, and the hand sprang out again, leaping up and punching Susan in the stomach. She fell back, and it turned its attention to me. It raced down the corridor, I saw it bunch up, ready to spring, I saw it leap, its middle finger extended, intent on poking my eye out.
It was an uncharacteristic moment's foresight that had made me remove my towel, and I held it out in front of me like a net, I raised it just in time, the hand hit it with enough momentum that its finger went through the towel. I managed to hold on, wrapping the towel around the thing, and knotting it where I could. It squirmed like a metal ferret, trying to escape, but it couldn't.
Susan ran over, and with a snarl, grabbed it off me, and whacked it so hard against the wall that the lights above us went out. Which was probably for the best, considering my al-fresco state.
FIVE MINNUTES TILL SELF DESTRUCT, ALL PERSONELL PLEASE EVACUATE SHIP IMMEDIATELY
The hand had ceased to move. Susan put the bundle on the floor, and slowly started to unwrap it. I knelt down, (Knees together of course) and kept my gun pointed at it, just in case. It still didn't move. Susan took the cardkey and stood up.
I stayed crouched, looking at the still hand.
'I think its de-' I said, somewhat inappropriately, as it jumped up and grabbed me by the throat. I flailed around, trying to pry its fingers off, but its grip was immovable. I was gasping for air, but getting none.
'Barry!' Shouted Susan.
I stopped, looked round, and saw her pointing her rifle at me.

BANG!

EMERGENCY, YOU NOW HAVE FOUR MINUTES TO EVACUATE SHIP

I gasped as the hand flew off my throat, spinning like a top in mid air. Susan stood, rifle pointed, barrel smoking, with a satisfied, calculating look on her face. God she was gorgeous.

'I'm going to put the override in!' She shouted, and with that, she turned and ran for it.
I sank to my knees, still gasping for air. The hand lay still at the end of the corridor. I had no way of knowing if it was dead or not, and I didn't fancy going near it. I picked up my gun and took aim, fired, missed, fired, missed again, fired, and ran out of bullets. 'Oh well.' I thought.
The hand jumped up again, as fast as if it had never been harmed.
'SHITE!' I screamed. It came at me faster than ever, somehow I could just tell that it was more pissed off than ever, (If indeed a hand can be pissed off) I couldn't do anything, I didn't have time, I watched it make its jump, come towards me… And then…

Something shot past my shoulder, colliding in mid air with the hand. It was fast, it was ginger, it was Fluffy.
They rolled on the floor; the hand took the opportunity to get on top of ginger, who batted it into the air. The hand bounced when it landed, ready to attack again, but it didn't have time, because Fluffy had pounced before it had hit the ground. They rolled, they exchanged blows, and then it stopped.
The hand was backing away from Fluffy, now looking almost repentant. Fluffy couldn't have damaged it, but something had changed about the hand.
I watched in dumb shock as Fluffy went up to the hand and licked it, then, they simply walked off together.

This was the point that Blane and Aska turned up, weapons ready, to find my prosthetic hand, and Susan's cat walking away together, and me, huddled naked on the floor, in a state of nervous disrepair.
They didn't seem all that surprised, like I said, they expect this sort of thing from me.

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
THIS SHIP WILL SELF DESTRUCT IN THIRTY SECONDS, ALL PERSONELL STILL ON BOARD CAN PUT THEIR HEADS BETWEEN THEIR LEGS AND KISS THEIR ASSES GOODBYE
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I sat, teeth chattering, praying for Susan to shut it down in time.
Blane and Aska looked at each other for a moment, then they embraced and kissed.
'Oh Blane…'
'Oh Aska…'
'Oh for fucks sake.' I thought. This was getting too melodramatic by far. Blane and Aska, seemingly Fluffy and my hand. I wondered would it be worth letting it explode if I could spend my last moments with Susan. The sight of her with the gun popped into my head. Probably, I concluded.

TEN, NINE, EIGHT, SEVEN, SIX, FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO….
SELF DESTRUCT OVERRIDE ACTIVATED
YOU LUCKY, LUCKY BASTARDS.
YOU LUCKY, LUCKY BASTARDS.
YOU LUCKY, LUCKY BASTARDS.

'Well,' I said, standing up, 'I'm glad that's over with.' And fainted.

So what did I learn from my experience? I would like to say I learned a lot, and I did, but sadly I forgot it all again swiftly.

When Tom woke up, he took his key-card and resumed the self-destruct countdown, demonstrating in the most pant-soiling way possible that we didn't even have the explosives anymore. He had sold them to pay off some gambling debts.

After their fight, Fluffy and Andy, (As I have wittily named it,) became the best of friends. I wasn't sure how to react to this.
I mean, the cat chewed off my hand, but it did save my life, but on the other hand, (As it were) if it hadn't chewed off my hand, then I wouldn't have needed to buy a new hand, and therefore I wouldn't have got the evil hand, and so Fluffy wouldn't have needed to save me.

I resolved to give Fluffy a good hard kick the next time I saw her, and then we're even… Honest.

end of part two

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