Fantasy The Time War

​

Marion​

Two years earlier....

Christmas time was beautiful at Mohonk.

In fact, every season of the year was beautiful at Mohonk, but in different ways. Mohonk was like an attractive woman continually putting on different dresses and wearing different hair styles. Each were appealing, but in very different ways.

Marion was as beautiful as always. She was wearing a very tight turtleneck shirt which somehow made her breasts stick out more than any other shirt Calle had ever seen her wear. She smiled as she saw the effect it had on him. She was also wearing tight blue jeans, gorgeous tall black boots, and a cute white hat with a little puffy thing on top, and her hair was combed perfectly. She was as gorgeous as she had ever been.

But as they kissed and hugged, Calle felt some tension in her body. Or was he imagining it?

They went cross country skiing. The hiking trails of Mohonk had suddenly been turned into cross country skiing trails. One just had to be careful not to ski over the edge of a cliff, especially on Eagle Cliff Road.

Marion taught him how to do it. She showed him how to push off with his knees, how to push with his poles, and how it was easier to follow in the tracks of another skier. She laughed the first time he crashed into a snow bank, but mollified it with a kiss.

"Where are the brakes on this thing?" Calle asked.

"Up here, my love," she said, tapping his head.

Calle found himself laughing.

It was all so beautiful. They stopped to admire amazing giant icicles, forming on rocks, hanging down like stalactites, completely clear and transparent to the eye like perfectly glazed glass. The snow had blanketed the landscape, the ground, the rocks, even the trees--every branch, every limb, every twig was covered with a layer of wooly white frosting or shrouded in a clear layer of ice. Lake Mohonk had frozen over and was a solid ice sheet. The Mountain House looked like a layer cake, green, tan, and brown, with white icing on the top.

The sun was shrouded in clouds, but when they got to the lookout on Eagle Cliff Road, it peeked out from behind the clouds, and they were treated to an amazing sight. Distinct shafts of yellow, visible to the naked eye, shone down from the sky, turning everything in their path yellow. To the left and right of the yellow beams, there were hills of white snow in shadow; but under the beams of the sun, everything in discrete parts of the valley below was glistening yellow. It was as if God were a painter, and they were watching an artwork in progress.

Calle hugged Marion, and realized that life didn't get better than this.

"It's amazing," Marion whispered. She angled her face upwards, and Calle made the natural connection, just as the light shifted and shone upon them. Calle felt the warmth over his body as he kissed her, but not all of it came from the sun.

They took a break back at the Mountain House with some coffee and doughnuts. Calle was telling Marion about a close call he had on the way there. "It was that hairpin turn on Mohonk Mountain Road, right before the golf course. It was icy, and as I turned up, another car was coming down, and it skidded and almost hit me."

"Uh huh," said Marion.

Calle frowned. She didn't seem to be listening. "Is something on your mind, Marion?"

Marion jerked like she had been startled. "My mind? No."

"How has your studies been?"

"My studies? Fine. Preparing for finals for the semester," said Marion. "I've been studying with Paul. I've told you about Paul, haven't I?"

Marion had. Paul was a student who had gone to SUNY New Paltz with her for college, and then had followed her on to graduate school there. Marion had mentioned Paul with increasing frequency, but Calle had noticed it without really noting it.

"We're in all the same classes, so we've been studying together a lot," said Marion. "He's a very sharp guy. I think you'd like him, John."

We've been studying together a lot. I think you'd like him. What was Marion trying to tell him?

He looked at her enigmatic smile, but couldn't sense anything more.

They returned the skis and rented snowshoes. As they clopped over the snowed over gardens, Calle couldn't get the thought out of his mind. Had Marion just intimated that she was seeing another man? Or was he simply being too suspicious?

The subject of how to bridge the physical distance between their relationship had been much on his mind lately, and he assumed it had been on Marion's too.

What had she been trying to say?

After they finished snowshoeing, they went out on the lake. There were metal chairs there. "Metal chairs?" Calle frowned. "What do we do with those?"

Marion sat in one of them and made a face. "Push!"

Calle pushed. Marion moved a few inches.

She frowned again. "You've shown me more strength than that, John Calle," she teased.

And then Calle gave a mighty push, and Marion went sailing across the ice, yelling "Wheee!"
​

********​

They were sitting in the main lounge, watching logs in a fireplace burn merrily away. The Mountain House staff was starting to put up Christmas decorations. It was snowing gently outside. Calle had his arms wrapped around her.

"Marion?"

"Yes?"

"This guy Paul you mentioned...."

Marion's eyebrows raised.

"I know this is a silly question, but... there's nothing going on between you two, is there?"

Marion bit her lip, and turned her face away, and Calle's heart sank.
​

********​

"It was just a drink, John," she said.

Just a drink. The fact that she had concealed it from him, the fact that she had hinted about it, told him everything.

"Are you attracted to him?" Calle spoke in a soft voice, a very soft voice, but nonetheless Marion was trembling.

"John... I...."

"Are you sleeping with him, Marion?"

"NO!" she practically yelled. She looked around to see people staring at them. "No," she said softly. "It was just a drink. That's all it was."

Calle gave her a skeptical stare.

Marion shifted uncomfortably in his arms. "Paul... he wants me."

"What?" Calle sat upright, and she fell out of his arms.

"He's always wanted me," said Marion. "We went to college together, and now we're in grad school. We've known each other a long time."

"And do you want him?"

Marion was silent.

"Marion!"

"You're making a scene," Marion hissed, looking around the lounge.

"I don't care," said Calle. "The woman I love with all my heart is telling me she wants to be with another man."

"You love me?" she said, sitting up.

"Of course!" said Calle.

"It's just... I only get to see you once a month. John, I... I want a man who I can see more than once every 30 days... and I don't see any prospect of that changing. Is there?"

And there it was, out in the open. The distance was proving too much for Marion.

Calle said nothing. He was experiencing tremendous inner turmoil. He sat there, silently, watching the log burn. He didn't touch Marion. She sat silently with him.

He didn't know what to do. To be with Marion, he would have to give up not just his job, but his career. There was no job options for what he did on the east coast. It was a big step to take.

Calle didn't know what to do, so he just sat there, staring at the burning log. He didn't know how long he stared at it. But as he watched, the log started to disintegrate. It turned into bright, shiny red pebbles. Before there had been a log, but that was another point of time. Now there was no longer a log, there was something else. Times had changed.

He heard a small sigh. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Marion getting up.

A moment in time.

A turning point.

Those glowing orange eyes....

"Wait!" Calle cried.

Marion looked at him. Her face was completely blank. This was it. The turning point. He felt it more keenly than ever.

Calle got down on his knees and took her hand.

Marion's eyes widened.

"Marion, will you marry me?" Calle asked humbly.

Marion blinked rapidly. "What... what about your job?"

"Fuck my job," said Calle promptly.

"I thought you couldn't get another job here working on starship engines."

"I can't."

"So what will you do?" Marion asked.

"I'll get a job doing anything. I'll become a fisherman. A farmer. I'll work in the New Paltz Café. I'll do anything... as long as I'm with you. Marion, will you marry me?"

Marion blinked again, as if she couldn't believe her ears.

"Marion, will you marry me?" he asked, more insistently.

"YES! YES I WILL!" She cried, and lept into his arms.
​

********​

They went to Calle's hotel room, and didn't emerge until the following morning. When they did, they were both very sore, very tired, and extremely happy. Neither had slept very much.

Marion was very loving and tender at breakfast. She kissed him at every opportunity and for once didn't care who was watching. Calle smiled and enjoyed every moment of that.

"John," she asked, "Did you really mean what you said... about giving up your job and moving here?"

"I did," said Calle.

Marion closed her eyes tightly, and tears started to well.

"Don't cry!" said Calle.

"I'm just... so happy," she cried.

"Then I am too," said Calle.
​

********​

Mohonk had a giant skating chalet with elegant wooden beams and two giant stone fireplaces at one end. Calle smiled as Marion did graceful figure eights. She was skating for joy. So was he.

After that they went swimming at the luxurious indoor pool, which was lined with stone slabs, and then, at Marion's urging, they got his and hers massages, lying face down on tables next to each other, holding hands, while a burly man rubbed her back and an attractive blonde rubbed Calle's, but they barely noticed, staring into each other's eyes the entire time.

Then they returned to the main lounge, where Calle had proposed and Marion had accepted. They saw kids decorating the tree, and Marion pulled Calle over to help them. "But we're adults," he said.

"So?" said Marion.

She was right. Soon Calle was taking a needle and threading strings of cranberries and popcorn and having the time of his life. Marion looked so gorgeous with her thick dark hair tied back in a pony tail. Her green eyes shined on him every time he looked her way, sending a jolt of love throughout his body.

And then staff dressed as Santa's helpers came around and started singing holiday songs, and Calle held Marion in his arms, feeling the soft warmth of her body around him, and everything was simply wonderful. Thick, quiet snowflakes fell outside, while the smell of the fire and the crackle of the fireplace permeated the lounge.

"I love you, Marion."

"And I love you, John Calle," she said, raising her head towards him, and once again, the inevitable happened. It was always happening.
​

********​

They planned to get married in early March. Naturally, they would get married at Mohonk. Calle didn't mind the extra cost. He didn't mind anything. He had given notice on his job two weeks ago. Charlie had looked at him like he was crazy, but Calle realized that the truly crazy thing to do was to stay in San Diego and give up Marion.

He had already lined up an interview with a company that subcontracted components for shuttles. It would be a major step down, but Calle didn't care. As long as he would have the woman he loved.

The roads were still icy on the early March day when Calle drove up Mohonk Mountain Road. His car almost skidded on that dangerous hairpin turn right before the golf course but he knew to drive slowly and controlled it.

When he got to the Mountain House, he saw the wedding chairs had been set up near the garden. The snow had melted, and the sun was shining, and it was expected to be a crisp day in early March.

Calle found his parents; his mother hugged him, and so did his father. "And where is the blushing bride?" his father asked.

Calle checked his Pad. He had gotten a netmail from Marion that she was coming up with her own parents, who lived north of White Plains; they had been delayed, but were just now arriving at New Paltz. They should be there in under thirty minutes.

Calle paced back and forth nervously. This was to be a big step in his life. Getting married. Switching careers. He felt naturally anxious. Last night he had had nightmares about glowing orange eyes, as he always did when he was nervous or agitated.

Thirty minutes passed. No Marion.

An hour passed.

No Marion.

Calle tried to comm her. There was no response. Where could she be? He tried twice more, and got the same result.

The guests started to get restless. Calle's mother and father exchanged worried glances.

Finally, two hours later, a police air car arrived. A very sad, apologetic looking police officer stepped out.

Marion was dead.

And then suddenly, John Calle couldn't breathe.
​

********​

Those glowing orange eyes.

Calle must have blacked out. He found himself in a chair, in the main lounge, with worried faces staring at him.

"John, are you all right?" his mother asked urgently.

Calle wasn't. "How... how did it happen?" he rasped.

It was that treacherous hairpin turn on Mohonk Mountain Road. Just as Marion and her parents were coming up the turn, another car was coming down. It crashed into Marion's car. Marion and her mother were killed instantly. Her father died a few hours later in the hospital.
​

********​

It was only days later that Calle got all the details. The driver of the car that had hit them was an illegal immigrant from Guatemala. He was high out of his mind on Weed and lost control of his car. But the illegal alien got out without a scratch. That's because he was driving a 20 year old air car that was a good 300 pounds heavier than Marion's air car. His car was dented; Marion's was totally crushed.

The World Government believed there was a global temperature crisis. It claimed that in the past the temperature was always between 68 and 72 degrees, and the reason that the temperature varied so much in the present was because of emissions from air cars and factories. Therefore, it dictated that air cars be made lighter and lighter so they would have fewer emissions. But that made the air cars more dangerous in a crash; because they were lighter in weight, they would crumple like a beer can if they hit something heavier. And so would the passengers inside of them.

On one level, Calle blamed the illegal immigrant for the crash, the illegal immigrant who the territorial government of the United States couldn't even deport because lawyers from the World Government claimed that would violate his "human rights". But more than that, he blamed the World Government itself. If the World Government hadn't mandated that air cars be made lighter and lighter, he was convinced that Marion would be alive today.

It had been a mistake for the nations of the planet to cede powers to the World Government, Calle decided. A mistake which had cost his loved one her life. And from that moment on he nursed a bitter hatred towards the World Government, and his heart was heavy, and although he had an occasional short term fling, he never loved again, not like he ever loved Marion.
​

********​

For a time, after the accident, Calle would come back to Mohonk, in sadness, but also to relive some of his memories with Marion. He looked at the beach, and remembered where they had gone swimming together; he hiked to the tower, and remembered the first time they had climbed it; he climbed the Labyrinth, and remembered their experiences together; and of course he remembered the corner of the lounge, by the fireplace, where he had proposed to her and she had accepted.

But Mohonk, and New Paltz, started to change over time. The World Government had ordered the United States to take in several million refugees from Ramada. Ramada was full of followers of Laquinta, the God of Blood, who were warring among themselves. There were two main factions, Shiars and Suttis, both of which who were killing each other over minor theological differences, even though they both worshiped the same God.

New Paltz, a relatively small community of 30,000 people, was assigned to take 10,000 refugees. Their influence started to show up quickly. Women wearing black burkas from head to toe started to walk up and down Main Street. Dangerous looking bearded men glared at female tourists who were not similarly dressed. Manskes started to spring up in the downtown area, and it wasn't long before the call to prayer was heard, five times a day, starting at five AM. With crowds spilling out of mosques, side streets started to be shut down with prostrate worshippers showing their devotion to the Great God of Blood.

The changes started to seep into Mohonk, as the newcomers discovered that paradise. The first time a big bearded man brought his four wives, dressed in black from head to toe, to Mohonk they elicited curious stares. Soon more and more of them came.

The first sign of trouble came in the dining hall, when a Laquintan discovered there was liquor on the menu. Liquor was forbidden by the Great God of Blood. The Laquintan stood up and yelled and was escorted out of the hotel, but he soon came back, with a dozen of his friends, big bearded man with anger smoldering in their eyes.

In the interests of keeping the peace, Mohonk was forced to capitulate, and stopped serving alcohol entirely, thinking that would be the end of things.

It wasn't. The next target of the Laquintans was the beach. They demanded that women dress more modestly in all-encompassing "burkinis". Again Mohonk was forced to give in, but this time by shutting down the beach entirely.

The descendants of the Smiley family were Quakers, and adverse to conflict of all kind. When faced with a threat, their first instinct was to capitulate.

But then the Laquintans went too far, even for the Smiley family. Three score Laquintans came up to Mohonk on chartered air buses. They clustered in the lobby and demanded that couples who could not prove they were married be denied entry to Mohonk.

This was too much for Sally Writhlin-Desjardins, the current proprietor of Mohonk, and a very distant descendant of Albert K. Smiley himself. When she saw the crowd of angry men gathered and heard their demand, she wrapped her colorful feminist scarf around her neck and headed to the door.

"What are you going to do?" her assistant, Alyssa Purnell-Alesjandro asked.

"Reason with them," said Writhlin-Desjardins said. She approached the angry mob by the main desk. The desk clerk cowered behind the partition. Sally couldn't help but notice that the men all had curved swords. She steeled herself to be brave.

"What is this all about?" Writhlin-Desjardins asked.

"A woman?" their leader scoffed. "I wish to speak to the man in charge!"

"I am the man... I mean, I am the one in charge," said Sally.

"Laquinta demands that you do not allow unmarried people to fornicate in this hotel!" the man roared.

"You do not set policy here," said Writhlin-Desjardins, her voice quaking slightly.

"I do not set policy, the Great God of Blood does! What is your answer?"

"Then my answer is no," said Writhlin-Desjardins.

"And here is Laquinta's answer for that!" said the man. He swung his curve blade, and decapitated Writhlin-Desjardins in one smooth move. As her decapitated head fell to the ground, Writhlin-Desjardins' head bounced and landed right next to a holiday pumpkin. The desk clerk screamed hysterically, even as the followers of Laquinta yelled, "Blood! An offering, for the Great God of Blood!"

The World Government police were called in. They surrounded the hotel, and brought in a cultural sensitivity negotiator. But all attempts at negotiation proved fruitless. When the police finally moved in, the Laquintans, stationed all over the hotel, detonated suicide vests they had hidden under their robes.

Mohonk was blown to pieces.

When Calle returned to Mohonk, nearly two years after Marion had died, he found it an entirely different place. A manske was rising out of the ruins of the Mountain House, complete with minarets. He heard the call to prayer over one of the many loudspeakers. Women dressed from head to toe in black were walking around the lake in groups. Big bearded men with hard eyes stared at him suspiciously and fingered their curved swords as he walked the grounds.

The gardens were gone, of course, along with the Mountain House itself. And it seems all the gazebos had been torn down. Even the ladders were gone from the Labyrinth; perhaps rock scrambling was deemed immodest by the followers of Laquinta. It was at that moment that Calle realized that Mohonk, like Marion, was gone forever, and he never went back again.​