Fantasy The Time War

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For the Greater Glory of Laquinta!​

The Temporal Social Justice Warriors:

Suddenly, Keith Ashanti was Maria's biggest supporter.

After his... very public experience, some might have thought he would bear a grudge against Maria. After all, it was Maria who ordered his humiliation, who ordered his own wife to put that... thing... in his behind.

Keith's anus was still sore. But any soreness he felt was in his asshole, not his head.

The next day he was like a puppy dog, following Maria everywhere he went, full of praise for his master, eager for a pet on the head. Maria was pleased by Keith's attitude adjustment, so he put it to the test that very evening, when he invited Hillary to his dinner chair and fondled her. Keith was all smiles as Maria fondled Hillary all over, and was still smiling even after Maria whispered in Hillary's ear, and Hillary removed her shirt and bra. Maria continued to fondle Hillary's bare breasts at the supper table, playing with her teats, and Keith was still all smiles.

Things progressed, as they always did with the Temporal Social Justice Warriors, and before long Keith was invited into Maria's bedroom whenever he decided to sample Hillary's wares. At first, Keith was told to remove Hillary's clothing, which Hillary found embarrassing enough; but before long, Keith was actually invited to watch.

"No!" Hillary cried. She was totally nude, having just been stripped of her clothing by her husband in preparation for her tryst with Maria. She had thought that she and Keith had been humiliated as much as any couple could be.

But she was mistaken.

"What's wrong, my dear?" Maria asked, grabbing Hillary painfully by the arms. Maria was nude as well. Looking at Maria's white body, it was easy to forget sometimes that he was a black Spanish person. It was even easier to forget that Maria was a woman. Hillary had dutifully learned in school that women can have penises too, but Maria's penis looked so... manly, especially when it was erect and pumping in and out of her dark pussy lips.

"Don't you believe in redistribution of your sexual wealth?" he asked with gritted teeth, as a hand shamefully worked between her legs.

"I... I...." Suddenly, Hillary was without words.

"Don't you think it would be educational for your husband to watch the redistribution?" he asked, his fingers working furiously. The way he said 'husband' was almost like an insult.

"I... it's just I'm embarrassed."

With his free hand, Maria lifted Hillary's head so it faced his own. "We can never be embarrassed by economic, social, or sexual progress. Can we, Hillary?"

Hillary shook her head.

Maria smiled and lay her on her back on the bed. Then he climbed on top of her and started to kiss and fondle her.

Hillary tried to close her eyes, but Maria shook her head every time she did, and she got the message. She saw Maria smiling down at her as he fondled her body, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Keith, sitting in a chair, with a weird smile on his face, as if he felt privileged to watch another man make love to his wife.

And then the final indignity came when Maria's female penis got hard, and he pushed her knees up, and Hillary obliged.

Let's get this over with quickly, she thought.

But nothing happened. She looked down and saw that Maria's penis was above her opening, but he wasn't entering her. She looked up at him with a puzzled expression in her eyes, and he smiled.

"Keith, would you like to do the honors?"

"Oh no, no no no," said Hillary.

"Yes," Maria grinned.

And then, to Hillary's intense amazement and horror, her husband came forward, and, at Maria's urging, took hold of Maria's penis, and docilely inserted it into his wife's vagina.

As Maria started to thrust inside of Hillary, something snapped inside her head. Hillary felt it, and immediately knew what it was. It was her love and respect for her husband. It was as dead as a neutron star. As she looked at him, sitting there with that creepy grin, watching as another man ravaged his wife, she realized she didn't love him anymore. Maria was ten times the man that Keith was... and Maria was a woman!

Once she realized this, Hillary gave into it. She started kissing Maria back with passion. She wrapped her arms around his back, and then her legs around his ass as he pounded into her.

"Oooh.. oooooh.... Oooohhhhh!" said Hillary, totally unabashed as Maria gave her her first orgasm of the night.

The first of several.

And after that, she never allowed Keith into her bed ever again.
​

********​

Meanwhile, Maria had his eye on another member of the group. Dana Slotkin. Dana wasn't the problem. She was wet and willing whenever he called for her.

The problem, Maria was increasingly feeling, was Craig Fuller.

Craig was Dana's friend who Maria had let into the Community on Dana's recommendation. Craig was white and male but assured him that he was inanimasexual, which was essential, since no white, male heterosexuals could be allowed into the Community.

But Maria... Maria sensed something between Craig and Dana. It was more than just a friendship. Something much more. He began to suspect that they were having illicit sexual relations. If Craig and Dana were black or Spanish or any other race it would not have been a problem. But for Craig, a white male, to have heterosexual sex, would put him clearly in the class of the oppressors.

One day Maria saw Dana come out of a supply room, adjusting her hair nervously. A moment later, Craig emerged from the same place. Maria immediately took Dana in his arms and kissed her. "You are so lovely, my dear," he said.

She tittered.

She smelled of sex.

He would have to keep a closer eye on both of them. If Craig was transgressing, the penalty would be severe.
​

********​

But Maria's number one problem in recent weeks was Ahmed Ahmad. The big Laquintan had become his strong right arm over the past few months. He and Red Bull had been his chief enforcers.

But Ahmed was getting increasingly impatient. They were going on missions to help blacks. They were even going on missions to help women. But when would they go on a mission to help followers of Laquinta?

Ahmed became increasingly impatient and even rebellious, and Maria realized that if he didn't do something to placate the Laquintan soon that he was going to have to put him down, and Maria didn't want to do that. Without Ahmed, their little group would lack a representative of a virtuous religion which was full of grievances.

And so, finally, Maria put together a mission to help the followers of Laquinta. But first, that required him to work on Marsha.
​

********​

"It's impossible to go as far back as the 7th century," said Marsha Kalinsky.

"Impossible is a rebellion word, and anti-progressive," Maria said. "Would you care to repeat that, my dear?"

Marsha trembled. "Maria... I want to obey, really I do. But I just don't know how to get the Time Shaft to project back to the 7th century."

Maria nodded, as if he were considering her words. Then he said, "The closet, my dear."

"But Maria!"

"If I have to ask you twice, Marsha, you're going to be in there for a very, very long time," said Maria.

Marsha stifled back a sob, and fingered the circlet around her neck which contained four grams of explosive. With her head bowed, she shuffled to the small walk-in closet, closing it behind her. Maria smiled as he heard the lock click.
​

********​

Maria let her out eight hours later. Marsha had been in total darkness, and had been forced to stand up the entire time. She collapsed to the ground.

"Have any ideas come to you, my dear?"

"I... I...." she gasped. "I don't see how-"

"Closet!" said Maria.

Marsha struggled to get up.

"Red Bull!" said Maria.

Red Bull helped her, pulling her up, and putting her in the closet. It clicked shut behind her.

"Maybe she not know how," said Red Bull. "Maybe there is no way to do it."

Maria raised his eyebrows. "Then how very unfortunate for her."
​

********​

Maria had intended to let her out in another eight hours, but he had gotten so distracted with Dana Slotkin that he forgot all about her until Red Bull reminded him some hours later, and so it was actually sixteen hours before he opened the closet again. Marsha, her pants soiled, collapsed in a sobbing heap on the ground, shielding her eyes from the light.

"Please... please... no more, no more!" she cried.

"It hurts me to do this, Marsha," said Maria, bending down to stroke her hair. "The thought of you in that closet... it does things to me, Marsha, terrible things. In fact, the only thing I can think of that's worse than you being in that closet, is you not being able to take us back to the seventh century. So... which is it?"

Marsha sobbed, struggling to speak. "There... there may be a way....."

"Good," said Maria, still petting her hair as he smiled broadly. "As I like to say, where there's a closet, there's a way."
​

********​

Khalid Mustafa Hussein Al Saddiq was essentially the founder of the Laquintan religion and the prime author of the Book of Blood. He lived from the year 604 to the year 686... with a quick visit to the year 2454.

Maria entered Interrogation Room 3, accompanied by Ahmed Ahmad. There they found the Prophet Khalid, strapped to an interrogation chair. "Greetings, your Holiness."

"Infidel!" Khalid shouted. "I will have your head for this!"

"We are here to help you, Great One," said Maria softly.

"Then I am tied down to this chair?" Khalid raged, as he struggled to get free.

"It's for your own protection," said Maria soothingly. Even though Khalid had been disarmed, he would still be capable of causing great mayhem if released. "We have brought you here to the year 2454."

Khalid gave a sarcastic laugh.

"It is true, great one," said Ahmed Ahmad. "I am a devout follower of your cause, and I can assure you that you are nearly 2000 years in the future."

Khalid gave Ahmed a hard stare. "If you are really a devout follower as you say, release me and give me this pig's head!" he said, glaring at Maria.

Maria sighed, and gave Ahmed a knowing stare. "I'll leave you to it, then."

Ahmed nodded. As Maria turned and left, he saw a holoimage appear.

"This is how the world looks now, in the year 2454-" Ahmed began.
​

********​

As Maria walked down the corridor, Dana Slotkin came bouncing up to him. "Hey you," she said, lifting her head for a kiss.

"Hey you," said Maria, giving her one. Maria still hadn't found evidence that Craig Fuller was sleeping with her, but he was a patient woman.

"Maria, there's something that.... Confuses me about this mission," said Dana, suddenly hesitant and a little fearful.

Maria stopped walking and turned to Dana. "Well, we can't have confusion, can we?" he said, and his tone grew a little dark. "What is it?"

"I... I..." suddenly, Dana found she had trouble articulating. She found Maria's soothing hand on her shoulder. "Just talk, Honey. We're all members of the Community. Don't be afraid."

Dana took a deep breath and nodded. "It's just... you're such a fighter for women's rights, and women's issues."

"Of course," said Maria. "As a woman of color, how could I be otherwise?"

Dana nodded. "But... the Laquintan religion is bad for women. It forces them to wear burkas. It orders women to be whipped, and cuts off their clitorises. How do you... we.... reconcile that with our support for womens' issues?"

Maria nodded sagely. "I can see why you are confused, little one. You have to understand, when a white man in the outside world oppresses a woman, that's sexism. It springs from the white man's masculine nature."

Dana nodded.

"But when a Laquintan makes his woman cover her body from head to toe in black, or whips her for talking back to him, that's not a class of oppression which springs from masculinity. That springs from religion, and not just any religion, but a highly virtuous one. Because the motivation springs from a virtuous religion, and not brute masculinity, the act itself becomes virtuous, don't you see?"

Dana nodded again, but still looked confused.

"Let me see if I can clear this up with some examples," said Maria. "If a white man spreads his legs on an air bus, is that virtuous, or sexism?"

"Sexism!" said Dana.

"Right! Now, if a devout follower of Laquinta requires his woman to stay home and cook and clean, what is that?"

"Uh... virtuous, I think," said Dana.

"Correct. If a man overexplains a situation to a woman, what is that?"

"Sexism!" said Dana immediately.

"Correct again. What if a follower of Laquinta beats his wife for burning the pita for dinner?"

"Virtuous," said Dana, after a slight pause.

Maria pat her on the head. "So you see, we are only following the path of virtue."
​

*********​

Three hours later, Khalid was ready.

"This really is... the future," said Khalid, looking around the room. Ahmed had removed his restraints. They weren't necessary now. Probably not, anyway. Just in case, Maria made sure never to be alone with the Prophet.

"Yes, it is," said Maria.

"Ahmed tells me that in the future, my people have expanded, and spread out among the stars," said Khalid.

"Yes, many have moved to a planet named Ramada," said Maria. "But they have not expanded as much on Earth. Places like Europe and the Americans have many unbelievers."

"Why is this so?"

"Because your followers spent more time fighting among themselves than their enemies," said Khalid. "Your followers split into two groups, called Suttis and Shiars. They have killed each other relentlessly over the centuries."

"Why?"

"There are certain... ambiguities in your Great Book of Blood."

"But... I have not written a Great Book of Blood."

"You will," Maria smiled. "In about three years. From my discussion with Ahmed, there seem to be three key areas of disagreement among the Suttis and Shiars that are not made clear in the Book of Blood. If you can clarify them, you can eliminate centuries of bloodshed, and perhaps even prevent the two factions from being formed."

"Very well. Pose your questions."

"The Book of Blood states, or will state, that you conquered Al Sa-Naa on the 13th day of the Goat, but that you took residency on the 14th. Sutti's believe the day should be celebrated on the 13th, Shiars on the 14th; who is right?"

Khalid blinked. "Are they mad? The 13th, of course."

"Of course," said Maria. "Next question. The Book of Blood states, or will state, that disobedient women should be disciplined severely, but does not state how. Shiars believe they should be paddled, while Suttis believe they should be whipped. Which is it?"

Khalid frowned. "Whipped, of course. Are you saying my people fought wars over this? "That's it? That's what's caused all these wars?"

"Yes. When you write the Great Book of Blood, if you can clarify these three matters, you will prevent centuries of bloodshed, and the followers of Laquinta can unite to fight the infidels and spread Laquintaism across the globe."

Khalid smiled, and gave a low laugh.
​

********​

"Well?" Maria said. It had been nearly five minutes since Khalid had been returned to his own time.

Marsha Kalinsky studied her holoscreens frantically. "I'm not sure."

Maria leaned down and put his lips to her ears. "Marsha, 'not sure' is a resistance phrase. Are you resisting me? Do you want to go back into the closet?"

"No!" she cried. Then she turned to him. "The Shiars... the Suttis... they are still fighting each other."

"No," said Maria. "That's not possible."

But it was.
​

********​

"Why am I back here?" said Khalid, sitting in his chair again. "I was just about to enjoy a wonderful banquet of rice and pilaf when your infidels grabbed me again!"

"I am so, so sorry, Your Worship," said Maria.

"I told you I would write the Book as I described. What more do you want from me? All the blood from my body?"

Ahmed Ahmad cringed.

"No, Your Worship," said Maria, bowing low. "But we have a new problem."

"A new problem?" Khalid's piggy eyes narrowed.

"While the issues we spoke of were resolved, it seems that Suttis and Shiars found other issues to argue about," said Maria.

"Why did you not raise these issues with me last time?"

"They were not fighting about them then," said Maria. "We just have a few more questions for you."

Khalid sighed, puffing out his chest. "Very well. Ask your questions. But I am sure my rice pilaf is getting cold, somewhere. Be quick about it!"

"Of course, Your Excellency," said Maria. "The Suttis and Shiars are fighting over whether prayers must be said before or after meals."

Khalid sighed. "Both, of course."

"Of course," said Maria. "Next question. When girls come of age, the question arises whether their most sensitive body part must be burned or cut off."

"Either. Are they really fighting over this?"

"Yes, Your Holiness."

"Continue," he sighed again.

"The last issue concerns men who lie with men. Suttis think they are meant to be crushed with heavy stones, Shiars say they should be dropped from high places. Which is correct?"

"Neither!" said Khalid. "They are to be fed to sharks, or, if no sharks are available, drowned in their own blood. I will make all of this clear in the Book of Blood. Are there any other questions?"

"No, Your Holiness."

"Then let me return to my feast. I have a brand new bride I am most anxious to welcome into womanhood and I find my man parts urging me impatiently on to greatness."
​

********​

"Well?" said Maria, several minutes after Khalid had returned to his time again.

Marsha looked at the holoscreens, and shook her head. "Suttis, Shiars... they are still killing each other."

"How? I thought we covered everything," said Maria. He turned to Ahmed. "You! This is your fault!"

"No," said Ahmed, reading the Book of Blood on his Pad. "All the changes and clarifications were made, as you requested. It is just...." He stared at the holoscreens.

"What?" said Maria.

"My people always find something to argue about," said Ahmed.

Maria sighed. "I suppose we will have to go about this some other way."
​

********​

Kalil Jabril Al Khartoom and Mustafa Aka-Arr Rantisi were the original creators of the Sutti and Shiar factions of Laquintaism. Both were strapped to chairs in Interrogation Room Three.

"Gentlemen," said Maria, smiling broadly. "I am here to bring you all together, in peace and harmony."

"Infidel!" Khalil spat.

"Dog!" said Mustafa.

"I will cut your head off, and feed it to the pigs!" said Khalil.

Maria slowly nodded his head. "I can see why you might feel that way... at present," said Maria. "But give it a few days. I'm sure we can change your minds."
​

********​

Three days later, Maria entered the interrogation chamber. Khalil and Mustafa were hugging, and shaking each other's hands.

"Brother!" Khalil cried.

"Dear friend!" said Mustafa, hugging him tightly.

"So... you have resolved your differences?"

"What differences?" Khalil said. "We are all followers of Laquinta, all brothers."

"And as brothers, we must fight together to destroy the Infidels!" said Mustafa.

"Good," said Maria. "Very good."
​

*********​

As soon as Mustafa and Khalil were returned to the 8th century, the changes were immediate and dramatic.

"There are mosques all over Africa," said Marsha, staring at her holoscreens. "Nine tenths of Africa are followers of Laquinta."

"Only nine tenths?" said Maria, with a smile.

"Laquintaism has also spread to Asia, and Europe," said Marsha.

"Europe, are you sure?" Maria asked.

"There are mosques in every major town and city," said Marsha. "And see this?" she indicated a holoscreen with a woman in a black burka. "That's the Queen of England."

"Thank you, Ayesha," said Sarah, taking a Pad from the Indian woman with the well rounded buttocks.

Ayesha smiled and turned away, wiggling as she walked.

"She likes you," Sarah whispered to Calle. "See how she smiled at you?"

"I thought she was smiling at you," said Calle.

"No, it was clearly you," said Sarah.

"Are you getting bored of me, and trying to push me off on another girl?" Calle asked.

"I tired of you a long time ago when you refused to put a baby inside of me," said Sarah, studying her holoscreens.

"Then why do you keep coming back to my apartment?" Calle asked.

"Now that I know your door code, it's simply too convenient to pass up," said Sarah. She frowned.

"What's wrong?" Calle asked.

"Look for yourself," she said, pointing to her holoscreens.

Calle looked. On one screen he saw a woman wearing a burka. On another he saw big bearded men wearing turbans walking down the street, carrying curved swords. In a third, he saw masses of people praying in the streets. "Where is this, Saudi Arabia?"

"No," said Sarah, looking up at him. "Downtown Orlando."
​

********​

"So it seems that someone has persuaded the Suttis and Shiars to stop fighting among themselves," said Colonel Strayker, pacing the conference room in his high collar plum colored suit. "And in the process, they have joined together to conquer most of the known world."

"What about America?" Daniel Acton asked.

"They still worship the She-Goddess Aura or the Equalitarians, for the most part," said Sarah.

"Oh," said Daniel.

"But we cannot accept a world where Laquintaism has such dominance. It is too great a change to the timeline," said Strayker. "If this came about because the Suttis and Shiars made peace with each other, then we must see to it that they once again are at war."

"But sir," said Daniel. "In some ways, this is an enormous achievement. Just think: the Laquintan people have finally become united. Centuries of bloodshed among them has been avoided. Think of it!"

"I am thinking of it, Lieutenant!" said Strayker, puffing furiously on his nuclear cigarette as he glared at the young historian. "They are united, united in their hatred of us. We have a choice, it seems to me; we can either have them fighting each other, or us. Frankly, I'd rather have them fighting each other."

Strayker glared at his officers for a long moment. "We're going to have to turn the Shiars and the Suttis against each other. We'll have to find a pivotal moment in history, a key event to do that. That sounds like just the mission for a Special Talent, doesn't it, Captain Calle?"

Calle took a deep breath. He didn't relish this mission. But he knew it had to be done. "Yes, sir."
​

********​

But first, they had a much more basic problem: how to get back to the 8th century Middle East. The Time Shaft only had enough power to take them back to the 18th century, although one time they had stretched it to go back to the year 1492. How were they to travel another eight hundred years to the past?

"It can't be done," said Sarah.

"I don't want to hear what can't be done," Strayker snapped irritably. "Someone else did it, so we can too."

"But how?" Sarah asked.

Strayker turned to Doctor Vladek. Suddenly, Vladek was aware of all eyes on him. "The energy requirements needed to open a Binochi Corridor increase exponentially the farther back in time we go," said Vladek. "We don't nearly have the energy needed to go back to the eighth century."

He saw Strayker glaring at him.

"However, the distance travelled back in time is only one factor in the equation," said Vladek, slowly pacing back and forth. "Another is the width of the Corridor itself. The energy costs of width are also exponential. The current width is five feet. If we lowered that to, say, one foot, it might be possible-"

"One foot?" said Calle. "We'll fall off the path!"

"Perhaps I can make it fourteen or fifteen inches wide," said Vladek, rapidly doing power computations on his Pad.

"15 inches wide?" said Calle.

"Do it!" said Strayker, glaring at them both.
​

********​

Calle stood in the control room, dressed like an eighth century Laquintan warrior, in robes and headdress, complete with a curved sword. And to his side stood Sarah Chambers, wearing a string bikini and a leash around her neck. Because she had no breasts, the top part was simply a slender strip of cloth.

"You know, you don't have to dress like that," said Calle. "Laquintan law says you can dress like that if you are on your master's leash, but you just as easily could have worn a burka."

Sarah looked at him. "Al-Sanaa in July is 110 degrees in the shade with 90% humidity. I choose this."

"Very well," Calle shrugged. He picked up the leash, but couldn't hide a grin.

"You're enjoying this," said Sarah.

"Not nearly as much as you are," said Calle. "Naomi, dial up the Corridor."
​

********​

They stepped into the Binochi Corridor.

The path was only 15 inches wide, or 14.75 inches, to be precise. That was the widest Doctor Vladek could make it and still safely project them back to the eighth century, so he said. It was so narrow that their shoulders were technically off the path.

Technically speaking, it was not possible to "fall off" the path. It wasn't like the edge of a cliff, where if you stepped beyond it, you would fall. The feet weren't so important. The head, however, was. If a person's head fell out of the zone of the path, out of the light, one's vision would immediately be obscured by the swirling mists, and a person could be lost, forever.

Sarah went first, with Calle behind her. They both walked slowly, very slowly, to be sure they didn't wander off the path. It was so incredibly narrow. Calle heard the whisperings of a million voices. Even Sarah, who didn't hear the whispers, felt intensely claustrophobic as the mists surrounded her on both sides. Suddenly she was glad Calle held her leash--if she stumbled, and fell off the path, he could pull her back.

Since they were walking slowly it would take them several minutes to cross the Corridor. Sarah tried to ignore her anxiety by making conversation. "How do you feel about this mission?"

"It has to be done," said Calle slowly. "I have to say, though, that I don't want to see Laquintaism take over the world. I saw what it did to New Paltz."

"New Paltz?"

"A small town in upstate New York," said Calle. "The World Government made New Paltz absorb 10,000 Laquinta refugees from the Middle East. They started building mosques like mad. They prayed in the streets, stopping traffic five times a day. They blasted calls to prayers from their minarets at 5 AM in the morning. And then...." He paused. "And then they went to a special place for me, a resort named Mohonk. They detonated suicide vests and blew it up. They turned a charming country resort... into another Laquinta prayer center."

"Mohonk. Isn't that where you met-"

"Yes," said Calle quietly.
​

********​

Several subjective minutes later, they arrived in the bustling city of Al-Sa-Naa in the year 704, for a very special feast, the Feast of Blood and Unity. Immediately, they were accosted by a man leading four warriors with swords, who spoke a rapid stream of Arabic to Calle.

"She's not for sale," Calle replied, in fluent Arabic.

The man, undaunted, put his hand under Sarah's chin and smiled. He said something else to Calle.

"No, not twenty goats."

The man took another step forward, until he was face to face with Calle, and gave him a hard look, and said something else.

Calle looked at the man, and his four warriors, all of whom had curved swords. "No. Not thirty goats, not forty goats, not for all the goats in the world would I part with her."

The man stared at Calle, eye to eye for a long moment. Finally, seeing he wouldn't be intimidated, the man nodded and walked past Calle, brushing by his shoulder.

Sarah ran up to Calle and hugged him. "Would you really have fought all those men for me?"

"Maybe one or two," said Calle.

Sarah stood up her toes and kissed him.
​

********​

Their troubles didn't end there. A second man stopped them on the street. He was willing to buy Sarah for a number of camels, all with "excellent humps". Calle told him no as well.

After they were stopped by the third man who also tried to buy Sarah, Calle realized that the flat chested beauty was drawing a lot of unwanted attention. For her flat chest was indeed the problem. With her long blonde hair and flat chest, Sarah looked like very young, and very young brides were very, very popular among followers of Laquinta. Calle quickly bought Sarah a black sheet and told her to wrap herself in it.

"What's the matter, aren't you willing to fight every man for me?" Sarah asked, as she covered herself in it.

"My sword arm would get tired before you stopped being beautiful," said Calle.

In that moment, Sarah realized she was in love with John Calle.
​

********​

Calle and Sarah arrived at the banquet hall and assessed the situation. The Shiars and the Suttis were celebrating their new peace treaty. In a traditional feast, Shiars would serve Suttis food and Suttis would serve Shiars food in the grand banquet hall of Al Sa-Naa.

Calle leaned against a wall of an ancient building as he thought about the feast. He watched a cat, playing with a stick. Suddenly a big, bearded Laquintan walked by, and swung his foot at the cat. The cat ran into the bushes.

"Why did he do that?" Sarah asked.

"In the Laquintan religion, cats are the lowest of the low. Supremely dirty, and not to be touched," said Calle slowly. Suddenly, he stiffened. He had an idea.
​

********​

The Grand Mufti of the Laquintan Mosque of Holiness sat side by side with the Grand Vizier of Al Sa-Naa. The Grand Mufti was a Shiar and the Vizier was a Sutti. A Sutti server delivered a platter of meat for the Grand Mufti, and a Shiar server delivered the same to the Vizier.

"Ah, roast lamb," said the Grand Mufti. He cut a slice and put it in his mouth. He bit into it and chewed... and made a face. The lamb tasted... different.

The Grand Vizier also made a face as he bit into the meat. Whatever it was, this clearly wasn't lamb meat.

And then they both dug into their food, and the Grand Mufti saw a small paw, and the Vizier saw small, distinctive bones, and they immediately knew.

"I have been poisoned!" the Vizier roared, spitting out his food.

The Grand Mufti reached for his dagger, but the Vizier was quicker, stabbing the Grand Mufti in the chest with his own.

And then the real bloodletting began.
​

********​

When Calle and Sarah returned through the Binochi Corridor to the control room, they were confronted with tiny black lines in front of them.

There were dozens of them, floating in the air. And with every second that passed, they were spreading, multiplying, like a virus. Calle could even hear the little ripping sounds as each one came into creation. It was as if the fabric of space time were so stressed that the matter around them was coming apart.

The little tears started to pull on them. Calle pulled Sarah to the left. There was just enough space to wiggle around them without touching them, to get into the rest of the control room.

Naomi, who was at the controls, hit the alarm. Within moments, a containment team had arrived, but the little rips were spreading rapidly. The containment team started to spray their mists, and the small tears started to disappear. But more started to reappear. A second containment team appeared, and they started to spray the little black lines as well. Before long they got it under control. The small black lines stopped multiplying. In minutes, they had vanished.
​

*********​

"Don't take that tone with me, Captain!" Strayker snapped.

"We almost lost it. The control room, this entire base, maybe more could have all been destroyed," said Calle.

"But it wasn't!" said Strayker.

"We were able to contain it, this time," said Calle. "But what happens next time if we can't?"

"These were unusual circumstances," said Strayker. "We used an enormous amount of power to send you back to the 8th century. I wouldn't expect this to happen again."

"I hope not," said Calle.

Strayker paused, and poured himself a drink. "We shouldn't be fighting, Captain. You did a splendid job."

"Yes," said Calle, in a subdued tone. "The Shiars and Suttis are once again slaughtering each other."

"As they should be," said Strayker, raising his glass in a toast. He drank, and reflected. "Of course, they try to slaughter us too, when they have time for it. But the important thing is that things are back the way they were. We don't judge the past, Captain. We simply leave things as we found them. And that's what it's all about."​