Fantasy The Time War

Calle shuddered, and started walking down the Binochi Corridor, careful to stay on the path. As he walked, he thought he could hear things... like the sounds of whispering, but whispering that was too low for him to understand. He looked in the mist around him. Could there be other beings here? Could Doctor Voidovich be trapped, somewhere in this corridor, for all eternity?

He kept walking. The doorway ahead got brighter and brighter. He stepped out into it, and then, and then....

He was back in the control room.

Calle looked confused. Could he have made a round trip? And then he noticed something different. Naomi was gone. And Sarah was wearing a different color shirt.

Sarah looked up. "Oh. It's you. That's right, you were sent to today, weren't you? I had almost forgotten."

"What... when is this?" Calle asked.

"Not a good question to ask if you were sent to the past," said Sarah sternly. "It could disrupt the timeline." She smiled as she watched Calle squirm. And then she broke out into a wicked smile. "As your luck would have it, this is two weeks into your future. I'm pleased to report that you're still alive."

"Didn't you just alter the timeline by telling me that?"

Sarah shrugged and popped a piece of popcorn into her mouth. "I find rules are best for others. By the way, I want to thank you for last night."

"Last night?"

"Oh dear, I'm afraid I may be breaking one of those pesky rules again," said Sarah, with mock wide eyes. "Are you sure you want to know, about you... and me, John?"

Now it was Calle's turn to look surprised, but this time it was for real. "You and me?"

"We become lovers," said Sarah. "You become totally infatuated with my body. You can't get enough of it." She looked down at her own skinny body. "Yes, you notice I have no breasts. Well, you'll get past that soon enough. I have other attractions."

Calle's eyes narrowed. Was Sarah telling him the truth?

"Now that you've had a thoroughly unauthorized taste of your future, you'd better scurry home and report," said Sarah.

"Everything?" Calle was incredulous.

"Well, everything except what I just told you, of course." She looked at him scornfully. "Activate your recall device."

Calle pressed the button on the device in his hand. Instantly, a gateway appeared before him.

Calle stared into it uncertainly.

"You actually have to step into it. It doesn't come to you," said Sarah sweetly.

Calle took a deep breath, and prepared himself.

"Goodbye, lover," Sarah said, winking at him just before he stepped into it.
​

********​

Calle emerged in the lab yet again. Sarah was there, but Naomi was still gone. Calle's eyebrows furled when he noticed Naomi's absence.

"Relax," said Sarah, noticing his look. "This is only five minutes after you left. I sent Naomi on a little errand so we could talk... privately. How was your trip?"

"Enlightening," said Calle. He really didn't know what to say.

Sarah smiled at him. "So, are you ready?"

Calle's eyebrows furled a second time. "Ready for what?"

"I thought my future self made that quite clear to you. To have sex."

"With you?"

"No, with this console," said Sarah, making a face. She pointed to her panel. "There's a hole right here on my control panel that your penis will fit just perfectly into... of course I mean me!" She paused, staring at his face. "Did my future self tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"Did she tell you that we were lovers, and then tell you not to tell me?" Sarah asked. "It sounds like something she would do. It will do you no good to deny it, I know her like the back of my hand."

"You would... seeing as it's you," said Calle.

There was silence in the room for a long moment, as Sarah still seemed to be waiting for something.

"So, are you ready?" Sarah asked.

"For what?"

"Are you retarded?" Sarah asked. "No, wait, don't answer that, it could be a really big disappointment." She turned and wrote rapidly on her Pad, then held it up. It read "Will you have sex with me?" in big letters.

"Sarah... I just met you," said Calle.

"Twice, actually," said Sarah. "Which is your way of saying no. Except that's usually the way a girl says no to a man. Do you feel emasculated, using the girl's way out? You should, I think."

"Do you ask all men for sex when they first join the Continuity Service?"

"Yes," said Sarah unabashedly.

Calle's jaw dropped open. It wasn't the answer he expected. "Why?"

"It's the tension, the stress," said Sarah. "For me, it's to cope with burnout."

"Burnout?"

"I spend twelve hours a day staring at 24 holoscreens," said Sarah, waving to them dismissively. "Can you imagine doing this seven days a week, 365 days a year, for the past two years?"

"No, I can't," said Calle. "Can't you take a vacation?"

"What would I do, go fishing?" She looked at him pityingly. "It's enough to drive a girl crazy."

"Does it drive Naomi crazy?"

"She's not smart enough to know what crazy is," Sarah confided. "But you do," she said, her face brightening.

"I won't have to stare at those screens like you do... will I?"

"No. But you'll have to go on missions which will compromise those precious moral values I'm sure you have. It will keep you tossing and turning at night, and wear you down emotionally. That's when you'll come to me. That's when you'll need me. So, I say, why wait for the inevitable? So, have I convinced you? Will you have sex with me now?"

"I haven't been worn down yet," Calle pointed out. "And I don't even know if we're...."

"We're what?" Sarah asked, her arms akimbo. On her skinny frame it accentuated her flat chestedness. She looked like a petulant boy with long golden locks of hair.

"If we're compatible," said Calle, trying not to hurt her feelings.

"It never hurts to try," said Sarah. "That's one thing I've learned from the Continuity Service. Perhaps the only thing I've learned from the Continuity Service. Actually, I'm lying, it can hurt to try, quite a bit. In fact, trying, in its various forms, can easily wipe out the entire human race. But back to the main subject. So you don't want to have sex with me. Why is that? You have noticed that I have no breasts, obviously." She thrust out her chest. She was indeed as flat as a boy.

"No, it's not that," said Calle, lying very convincingly, so he thought.

"Of course it is. I got a good look at your woman," said Sarah.

"Marion?" said Calle, his jaw dropping. "You saw Marion on one of these screens?"

"Of course. The Service has been monitoring you for some time. Where was I? Ah, yes, your woman. The one with the big titties."

"Her name was Marion," said Calle, grinding his teeth.

"Marion, with the big titties, I stand corrected," said Sarah. "Or do you prefer Big Titties Thomas?"

"How... how did you know that?" Calle's mouth dropped open.

"Maybe you are retarded. Haven't I told you that we've been watching you? But getting back to the subject at hand. Her breasts. Your eyes were glued to them all the time. I saw. I know. You're a titties man, don't even bother wasting your breath trying to deny it. But I have other skills. I have a highly efficient vagina. Don't wince, that's important to you too, you know it, don't even think of trying to deny it. I hate intellectually dishonest men. I don't want to start hating you. Back to my vagina. My highly efficient vagina, as I've said. Once you try it, you'll never be able to get enough of it. You may say no today, you may say no tomorrow, but remember what my future self told you. You'll be in the sack with me, sooner or later."

"I doubt it," said Calle, a little more harshly than he intended.

"Well then, we'll just have to see who knows you better, you..." and she waved a hand to her holographic screens, "...or me."
​

********​

"Are you ready for your first mission?" Colonel Strayker asked. His cold blue eyes bore into Calle.

"I believe so... sir," said Calle.

"Is he?" Strayker asked Erica Green, who stood by his side.

"He's had all the requisite training, sir," she said carefully.

"Which is a fancy way of saying that you don't know," Strayker sighed. "Well, I suppose we'll have to let the bird go out of the nest and see if it flies... or if it falls on its head." He glared at Calle. "John, have you ever heard of Amelia Earhart?"

"Of course," said Calle. "The naval aviator. I believed she disappeared in the early 20th century."

"Her fate was never known. She simply... disappeared. John, I want you and Erica to find out what happened to her."

"Why?" said Calle. "I thought our job was to fight temporal incursions."

"It is, but part of that job is figuring out historical situations. Think of this as... a training mission. We're going to put you on a small island called Kiribati in the year 1939. It is believed that Earhart disappeared somewhere around there. See if you can find out what happened to her."

Calle slowly nodded. "Very well, sir." He got up to go.

"And Calle?"

"Yes sir?"

"I'm sending you to a tiny island. It will be very hard for you to interfere with the timeline from there... but not impossible. When you come back, I'd like my wife and home to still be here, all right?" Strayker looked at Calle expectantly.

"I'll... I'll do my best, sir," said Calle.
​

********​

Calle and Erica stood at the entrance to the Binochi Corridor. They were dressed in tropical outfits. Erica had just handed him a compression pistol. She already had one of her own.

"Are we going to need compression pistols on a tropical island in 1939?" Calle asked.

"You never known," said Erica as she firmly holstered her own.

Naomi handed each of them a recall device. "Don't lose it, it's your only lifeline back to our time," she said, looking him in the eyes.

"Maybe you should give John a second one, just in case," said Sarah, her voice dripping with condescension. She smiled and winked at him as he glared at her. "Oh, John, John!"

"What?"

"Your zipper," said Sarah, with mock concern.

Calle looked down. "It's closed."

"Yes, it is," said Sarah, smiling at him.

"Are you two done?" Erica said, making a face.

"Even before we started," said Calle, glaring at Sarah as she threw him a kiss.

"All right, Naomi, crank it up!" said Sarah.

Suddenly, the Binochi Corridor burst forth with brilliant light and energy. They could see the swirling mists inside. Calle half-imagined that he could hear whispering sounds. Could there be some creature inside of there?

"Are you going?" Sarah inquired. "Or would you like to stay here and suck a candy?"

"She likes you," Erica stage-whispered.

"I think everyone knows that by now," said Calle. He steeled himself, and stepped into the Corridor.

He felt the same hot air around him as the last time. To his left and right were swirling mists, which blew on his skin. The light got fainter and fainter the farther he looked off the path. He kept going straight, following the light. He sensed Erica close behind him. As he walked, he got a glimpse, just for a moment, of something. It was a bearded white man, wearing a grass skirt. Calle blinked, and it was gone.

The lighted entryway got larger and larger as he walked towards it. And then... he was through.

Suddenly, he and Erica found themselves on a sandy beach in the South Pacific.

"Are you all right?" Erica asked. She knew it was only his second trip through the Corridor.

"Yes," said Calle slowly. "When I was in the corridor, I... I thought I saw something."

"Visions," said Erica. "Sometimes you see things, from the past, from the future, from where you're going or where you're coming, or simply something else entirely. What did you see?"

"I saw a man in a grass skirt."

"Well, that makes sense, that's what they wear here in Kiribati."

"No," said Calle. "He wasn't a native. He was a white person, an American or European."

Erica frowned. "Perhaps they have a missionary here."

"He didn't look like a missionary," said Calle, thinking of the half naked man's big belly.

"Well, perhaps it will make sense later," said Erica. "So... where do we go?"

"How would I know?" Calle asked.

"You're in charge, Captain."

This was his test. Calle looked around. They were on the beach. The water was behind them. There was jungle to their left, and jungle to their right.

"Left, I guess," Calle sighed.
​

********​

They walked for several hours. Calle wasn't even sure what they were looking for. Amelia Earhart? Her plane? Some sign of wreckage? All he saw was jungle.

Erica was careful not to offer any suggestions. They were testing what they called his "Special Talent". The Continuity Service seemed to feel he had an ability to find important elements that could change the history of time. Calle was far from certain. It was true, in hindsight, that what he had done with Eva Braun to manipulate Adolph Hitler had been nothing short of extraordinary; but perhaps it had simply been a coincidence, or luck.

On the other hand, his supervisor Charlie Byler had always told him that he had a sixth sense when it came to knowing which parts would fail in a design flaw test of experimental engine models. So maybe he did have some talent.

They walked as they talked. Erica had been with the Continuity Service for nearly two years. She had participated on 23 separate missions.

"Tell me about Commander Strayker. You call him Colonel. Is he ex-military?"

"I don't know," said Erica. "None of us know very much about Commander Strayker. All I know is that he took over when William Bright retired."

"William Bright was the senior assistant to Carl Voidovich, who created the Time Shaft, right?"

"That's right," said Erica.

"Do you believe that Carl Voidovich simply disappeared in the Binochi Corridor?"

Erica shrugged. "It's possible. You've seen the Binochi Corridor. If you accidently fall off the path, you could be lost forever."

Calle considered that. "And what about Sarah?"

"What about her?"

"Is she for real?"

"You mean, in her desire to have sex with you? Yes. Sarah has had sex with all the men on the base."

Calle was dismayed. "All of them? Even the married ones?"

Erica smiled. "Especially the married ones. She considers it a challenge."

"Even Colonel Strayker?"

"I'm not sure about that," said Erica. "Gina, his wife, would probably object, if she knew about it." She paused. "You have to understand, John, she's a Passive Observer, and she spends every free minute staring at those screens. It's enough to drive anyone crazy. It's an enormously tense job. In fact, all our jobs are very stressful. It's not uncommon for people to take... liberties with one another." She gave him a look that was suggestive of one such possibility.

Suddenly they heard the sound of a twig snapping.

They hid behind bushes. They saw tall, dark skinned pacific islanders in grass skirts walking through the forest. Erica and Calle watched them walk by.

"Maybe we should make contact," said Calle, watching them go. "If Amelia Earhart landed herE, maybe they know what happened to her."

"We are to avoid contact unless you determine it's absolutely necessary," said Erica bluntly. "Every contact we make risks damage to the timeline."

"How do I know if it's absolutely necessary?" Calle asked. "So far, we've found nothing."

"It's all up to you, Captain," said Erica, folding her arms in front of her.

Calle frowned, and concentrated.

Those glowing orange eyes.

"Left," he said.

"Left?" said Erica.

"Left," said Calle. They started walking left. She followed him for some time. Calle walked left or right without apparent reason. But it wasn't twenty minutes later before they bumped into a thick layer of bushes. When they got closer, they saw...

"It's an airplane," said Erica, pulling off one of the branches covering it.

"A disguised airplane," said Calle, pulling off another. The plane looked exactly like the image of Amelia Earhart's plane they had seen in the briefing.

"It looks intact, though I don't know how it landed here," said Calle.

"Maybe it was moved," said Erica.

"Maybe," said Calle. "There's no sign of the pilot. If the plane is intact, I'll bet the pilot is too."

"And so?"

"And so it's time to make contact with the locals."
​

********​

They waited until they found one of them wandering alone on a narrow jungle path. He was a Pacific Islander wearing a grass skirt. He was dark skinned and had a big belly. He was also carrying a club.

Calle and Erica stepped out of the bushes. "Hello," said Calle.

The Pacific Islander raised his club. "UNGA BUNGA!" he said.

Under other circumstances Calle and Erica might have felt threatened. But they had both been brainstamped with the language of the Pacific Islanders of this time. What the man actually said was, "Greetings. What nice weather we are having today!"

Calle replied. "UNGA BUNGA BUNGA!", which roughly translated to, "Yes, the humidity is quite low."

His name was Tulsi Abbard, and if he was astonished to see two journalists from the United States, he didn't show it. Calle immediately asked about Amelia Earhart.

"Woman, in the plane."

Tulsi looked puzzled.

"Woman, like us, in the big shiny thing."

Tulsi smiled. "Yes. You come."

He turned and walked away, confident that they would follow. He was right.

He led them into a small village of Pacific Islanders who stared at them curiously. Tulsi barked a few phrases in his language and they seemed to relax, though they were still stared at.

Tulsi led them to a bamboo hut and yelled, "Bob!"

A bearded white man with a big belly, wearing only a grass skirt, exactly like in Calle's vision, came out of the hut. He looked very surprised. "Europeans," he said.

"Actually, Americans," said Calle. "I'm John Rawlins, and this is Betsy McCallister, from the International Herald Tribune. We're here to find Amelia Earhart."

The man named Bob just stared at him.

"We found her plane, hidden in the jungle," said Calle meaningfully.

Bob sighed. "Yes, it was her plane."

"Where is she?" Calle asked.

"Dead," said Bob. "She suffered injuries in the crash. I... I could show you where she's buried."

"Please."

As they walked, Calle said, "What brings you here?"

"I'm originally a banker from New York," said Bob. "I came here looking for a life of solitude."

"Well, it looks like you came to the right place," said Calle.

"There's something so relaxing, so peaceful about the South Pacific," said Bob. "I really like it. Ah, here we are."

They came to a raised mound. There was an amateur tombstone at the head of it with the letters AE on it.

"She was severely injured in the crash. She didn't live long," said Bob. "It was quite sad. I knew who she was, of course. She was quite a trail blazer, a great role model for women and girls."

"Her plane didn't look very damaged," Calle said.

"It wasn't," said Bob. "But she was."

Calle looked at Bob, and nodded.

"Listen," said Bob. "I know you're journalists, but I was wondering if you could keep this a secret. I came here for quiet, you know? I don't want the island to be overrun with half the media from New York to Moscow."

"I understand," said Calle. "Your secret is safe with us."

"Thanks," said Bob.

Calle and Erica made their goodbyes and left. As they walked on the beach, Erica said, "So? Is our mission accomplished?"

Calle still felt like he was being tested. "I'm thinking," Calle said slowly.

"About what?"

"Quiet, please." Calle tried to reach out with his senses.

Those glowing orange eyes.

Calle and Erica walked for several minutes in silence. Then Calle abruptly changed course, and headed back to the village.

There was something he sensed, a key temporal turning point. But not from the plane.

From the man, Bob.

When they arrived at Bob's shack, they saw Bob inside, lying face down completely nude on his cot, with the Pacific Islander Tulsi on top of him, thrusting between his ass cheeks.

Calle cleared his throat. Tulsi quickly pulled his erect penis out of Bob's ass. Bob, reddening, got up and covered himself in his grass skirt.

"We weren't expecting you back... so soon," he said, red-faced.

"I could tell," said Calle, risking a quick glance at Tulsi's excrement covered phallus.

"What... do you want?" Bob asked, adjusting his skirt.

"Just one thing, Bob," said Calle.

"Yes?" said Bob.

"Where's Amelia?"

"What?"

"Where's Amelia?" Calle gave him a hard stare.
​

********​

Five hundred and some years later, Captain John Calle and Lieutenant Erica Green sat in Colonel Strayker's office. He listened to their story attentively. Then he said, "Let me see if I can understand this. You're saying that Amelia Earhart is actually an overweight gay man named Bob," said Strayker.

"Yes sir," said Calle.

"And that this... Bob person... impersonated Amelia, because he wanted to create a role model for women and girls, to encourage them to pursue careers in aviation."

"Yes sir," said Calle.

"And when this... Bob person... felt that his ruse was in danger of being discovered, he purposefully marooned himself on a remote island in the South Pacific so the feminist icon he created would stay intact."

"Yes sir," Calle said again.

Strayker got up from behind his desk and came forward to stare at Calle intently with his harsh blue eyes. "And this is the story you bring to me? Do you stand by this?" He glared at Calle.

Calle took a deep breath. "Yes sir."

Strayker stared at him a moment longer. Then he nodded, slowly. "Good work," he said, returning to his desk chair.

"You knew?" Calle asked.

"Of course," said Strayker. "It wouldn't have been much of a test if we didn't know the answer, would it?"

Calle turned to Erica. "Did you know?"

Erica gave a small smile and nodded.

"We wanted to test your Special Talent, but more than that, your ability to report things that might seem... wild, improbable, in the face of intense pressure." Strayker took out a nuclear cigar, and started to puff it. He admired the smoke rings. "I'm not looking for yes men, Captain. I never have been. As far as I'm concerned, you've passed the test in flying colors. Welcome to the Continuity Service, John."

Strayker smiled and extended his hand. Calle shook it uncertainly. There was something about Strayker's gaze which still made him uncomfortable....
​