The Time War Ch. 44

Chapter 44: The First White, Male, Heterosexuals on the Moon

"Hello, John Calle."

Calle looked at the man strapped to the Time Shaft, his clothes soaked with sweat. Doctor Vladek had left to take a break, and the only other person in the control room was Naomi, who was busy watching her holomonitors.

They had captured him on one of their scouting missions. His name was Jay Inslee, and he was apparently a stray member of Tom Stoyer's Luddite faction who hadn't been at their main base when the Continuity Service had decimated it.

Calle glanced at Naomi, who seemed deeply engaged in her work. "Do I know you?" he asked.

"No, but I know you," said Inslee smugly, an odd attitude for a man who was strapped to the Time Shaft. "And I know what you want."

"And what is that?" Calle asked, gazing around the room.

"You know," said Inslee tauntingly.

"No, I don't," said Calle, his eyes still averted.

"Marion."

Calle turned and stared directly at Inslee.

Inslee smiled at him.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me," said Inslee. "I can take you to her."

"Marion is dead," said Calle.

"No. Not anymore," said Inslee. "We rescued her. Right before the car crash."

Calle's eyes went wide.

"Yes, we know about that. We know all about you."

"Why do you care?"

"Because you are a most special man, John Calle, a special man with a special talent."

"And what do you want from me, in return for bringing me to Marion... assuming I believed you," said Calle.

"Nothing at all. Just the joy of knowing that I reunited a grieving man with his long lost loved one," said Inslee.

Calle sincerely doubted that. But just as he was considering what course of action to take, Doctor Vladek entered.

"Ah, hello John," said Vladek, looking very relaxed as he held a cup of atomic coffee, as if he hadn't just been torturing someone for the past hour. Vladek turned to the prisoner. "Are you ready for another session?"

Suddenly the smug grin was wiped clean from Jay Inslee's face. He looked pleadingly at Calle but didn't say a word.

"Doctor, we already wiped out the Luddites. Is there much more we can learn from him?" Calle asked, in a neutral voice.

Vladek rubbed his head. "Perhaps not." And then he looked at Calle with those heavily bagged eyes. "But it never hurts to be thorough, does it?"

Calle agreed that it didn't. But he hurried to get out of there, wincing as he heard the first scream right before he reached the exit.

********

Calle paced the hallways furiously for several hours, waiting for the interrogation to end. He had to find some way of getting access to the prisoner. Inslee was probably lying about Marion--almost certainly!--but Calle had to find out the truth for himself. He hovered around the confinement area, waiting for the prisoner to be brought there.

After two anxious hours when the Inslee didn't appear, Calle made his way to the control room. There was no one there except Naomi, who gave him a friendly wave. Ever since Sarah had left, Naomi had become much more talkative towards him. He sensed that she wanted to get to know him better, perhaps as a friend.

But that wasn't on Calle's mind now. He raced to Doctor Vladek's office. "Where is the prisoner!" he asked, more abruptly than he intended.

Vladek blinked and sipped some atomic tea. "Why do you ask?"

"I... I have the feeling he might have some useful information."

Vladek paused, and once again Calle had the uncomfortable feeling he was being studied. "No, that wasn't so."

"Where is he?"

Vladek sighed. "Mr. Inslee's stay with us was not as long as we hoped for, I'm afraid."

Called quickly turned away, and walked out.

Inslee had been his only link to Marion. If indeed he had been telling the truth.

********

Calle found himself wandering listlessly around corridors. Suddenly, the base wide alert sounded. He rushed to the control room.

A team led by Major Hammerhead had just come back through the Binochi Corridor. But they were trapped, surrounded by tiny black lines in the air which were rapidly expanding. A hazmat team was on site, rapidly spraying anti-time particles. They worked urgently, and soon overtook the rate of expansion. In moments all the black lines were gone.

Calle saw Colonel Strayker supervising. Calle felt he had to speak up. "Sir, this is the third time this has happened this month." These black lines were becoming a common occurrence when teams returned through the Corridor.

Strayker glared at him. "Well, what do you want? We have a fully trained hazmat team on duty at all times. We are producing anti-time particles at an accelerated rate. What more can we do?"

Stop travelling through time. It was becoming increasingly undeniable: time travel was damaging the very fabric of space and time. The more they travelled, the more space became worn out. When would it reach a point where they couldn't heal the rifts?

********

The Temporal Social Justice Warriors:

For once, there was open dissension in the ranks.

Maria proposed hijacking the first manned flight to the Moon, which was filled with white males full of racial and sexual privilege, and replacing them with proud black males. John Cummings, Elijah Ellison, and Keith Ashanti were ecstatic. But the girls, Chloe Weatherly, Dana Slotkin, Alyssa Goldenfrau, and even Hillary Ashanti, who was black, were not.

"Why can't we make history with the first women on the Moon?" Alyssa Goldenfrau whined.

"Because blacks are more oppressed than women. They are higher up on the virtue totem pole," said Maria.

There, he had said it. For years the tension had been growing, the uncomfortable feeling that Maria had been showing preference to the black men in the Community over the white women, giving more weight to his psychological blackness than his theoretical womanhood. The women felt like they had been slapped in the face.

"John and Elijah and Keith will go tomorrow and hijack the Apollo 11 mission," said Maria. "Then they will make history as the first men to land on the moon... black men."

The girls all looked unhappy, but said nothing.

********

"It should be us," Alyssa Goldenfrau hissed.

"But Maria says it should be blacks first," said Chloe Weatherly.

"Then let's just do it!" said Alyssa.

"What?" said Chloe.

"Let's just go, and do it ourselves, before the men leave," said Alyssa.

"Maria will be furious!" Dana Slotkin hissed.

"He'll accept it," said Alyssa. "Remember, he's not just black, but also a woman of color. He'll come around, once it's an established historical fact."

"I agree," said Hillary Ashanti.

"You do? But you're black!" said Dana Slotkin.

"But also female. And my femininity trumps my blackness," said Hillary, raising her chin.

"Who will go?" Chloe Weatherly asked.

"We all will," said Alyssa.

*********

It didn't take long for Maria to discover what they had done. Mere seconds after they had stepped through the Binochi Corridor, Maria showed up at the control room. He saw the Time Shaft and the Binochi Corridor was active.

He turned to a terrified looking Marsha. "Marsha, dear. Is there something you want to tell me?"

********

Twenty minutes later John Cummings, Elijah Ellison, and Keith Ashanti were gathered in the control room. Red Bull was there as well.

"Carry out your mission as planned," said Maria.

"And the women?" John Cummings asked.

"I'd like them retrieved without being harmed," said Maria.

"And if they resist?" Elijah Ellison asked.

"Then I will miss them very much," said Maria.

Elijah Ellison nodded.

"But if we go... that will leave you all alone here," said Keith.

"Me and Red Bull," said Maria. He looked at a trembling Marsha Kalinsky. "I think we can find a way to pass the time until all of you return. Can't we Marsha?"

********

Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, and Michael Collins couldn't have been more pleased. In a matter of hours Armstrong and Aldrin would be the first people to set foot on the Moon.

"But not merely the first people," said Armstrong, with a smug smile. "The first men."

"Ah, yes," said Aldrin, with an equally smug grin. "Men! Men are superior! It is only fitting that men are the first ones to step on our natural satellite, while women stay home and make meals in the kitchen, and babies in the bedroom."

"Actually, come to think of it, not only are we going to be the first men on the Moon, but also the first white men," said Neil Armstrong. "Think about it! Think of all the little white boys who will be so empowered by our achievement, inspired to pursue careers in science and rocketry! Think of all the white boys who have fragile egos, who may be afraid to reach for the stars! Think how inspired they'll be when they see white men standing on the Moon! Think of what role models we'll be for all of them!"

"I can't wait to get home and hug my little white boys," said Collins, his voice choked with emotion.

"My little white boys are going to be glued to the TV set watching us land," said Aldrin. "They're going to be so proud of their white, male heritage!"

"Actually, come to think of it, not only is this a tremendously teachable moment for white men, but also for white male heterosexuals as well," said Armstrong. "Unless...?" He looked at the other two questioningly.

"With another man? Not me!" said Buzz Aldrin.

They both looked at Michael Collins, who was conspicuously silent. "Me?" said Collins. "No... I mean, uh, of course not!"

"Then this will truly mean one small step for man, but one giant step for white, male heterosexuality," said Neil Armstrong, with a dreamy smile.

********

Suddenly, a gateway opened, and Chloe Weatherly, Dana Slotkin, Alyssa Goldenfrau, Katie Lang, and Hillary Ashanti appeared in the capsule. All carried compression pistols.

The astronauts were stunned. "What is this? Who are you? Where did you come from?"

"We've come to right a historical wrong," said Hillary Ashanti smugly. "You white men, you think history is an open book that only you can make a mark in! You are so wrong! With me are women: strong, powerful women, who are going to make history as the first people to land on the moon!"

"But what about us?" Buzz Aldrin asked, with a quiver in his voice.

"We might find a use for you, if you cooperate," said Katie Lang, the lesbian. She rubbed her crotch suggestively. "Tell me, and be honest about it: how good are you with your tongue?"

Before Aldrin could reassure Katie about his oral skills, another gateway appeared, and John Cummings, Elijah Ellison, and Keith Ashanti stepped through. They too carried compression pistols.

"What are you doing here?" Alyssa Goldenfrau asked.

"I could ask you the same question," said Elijah Ellison. "Maria is extremely annoyed with you."

Alyssa squared her shoulders. "I'm not afraid. We are proud, strong women!"

"Maria has decreed that blacks should be the first to land on the Moon, not women," said John Cummings.

"Why can't we both do it?" said Alyssa, with a tone of pleading in her voice. "We could send Hillary. She fits in both categories!"

"No. It must be black men," said Cummings resolutely.

"Women!"

"Blacks!"

"Women!"

"Blacks!"

They continued to argue with each other. Buzz Aldrin, Neil Armstrong and Michael Collins sat on the sidelines, totally forgotten.

*********

"Maaaarshaaaaaa."

Marsha Kalinsky stiffened as she recognized Maria's musical tone. It was a soft tone, but one that always indicated that something unpleasant was about to happen to her. She was alone with him and Red Bull in the control room now. Anything could happen. Anything at all.

"You let the girls through the Corridor without my permission, didn't you Marsha?" said Maria softly, padding up to Marsha like a cat.

Marsha didn't know what to say. The girls had demanded she open the Corridor for them. She had dared not refuse.

Maria's gentle hands caressed her trembling hair. "Marsha, I asked you a question." He said each word slowly, deliberately, as if he were reciting a sonnet.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Yes... what?" Maria said, his hands moving lazily over her trembling body.

"Yes, I let them through... without permission." She fairly gasped.

Maria nodded. "Then I think you must be punished. Don't you agree?"

Marsha was in a bind. If she said no, then Maria would put her in the closet. Or worse. She had no choice. "Yes," she said, looking at him with pleading eyes.

Maria nodded again. "Prepare yourself."

He stepped back, and started to remove his clothes.

Marsha, still trembling, did the same. She avoided looking at Red Bull's smug grin as he watched her disrobe. Red Bull knew exactly what was going to happen next. They all did.

********

A few moments later, Marsha was bent over a console, while Maria stood behind her, with his hands on her hips, while he penetrated her from behind. As Maria pounded into her, Marsha whimpered, and her small breasts and ass cheeks shook. Marsha was not especially attractive, but what excited Maria was not the physicality of their lovemaking, but the expression of power. Each time Maria thrust inside of Marsha he was exerting control. With every thrust he was communicating with Marsha, shaping the relationship between them, letting her know in no uncertain terms that Maria was a powerful woman of color who could not be denied. As Maria's black feminine penis moved in and out of Marsha's tight vagina, Maria gritted his teeth and said, "Do you feel it, Marsha? Do you feel the power of my strongly empowered womanhood, buried deep inside of you?"

Suddenly Red Bull, who had been monitoring the controls, said, "Sir! We are detecting a temporal incursion!"

"Where?" Maria asked, even as he continued pumping in and out of Marsha's vagina.

Red Bull paused, checking the indicators. "Right here!" He looked up at Maria with shock and horror.

Suddenly, a gateway opened, and men came streaming out. Red Bull reached for his compression pistol, but he was shot in the chest. He fumbled and reached for his weapon again, and was shot twice more. He fell to the ground and was unmoving, with three steaming holes in his chest.

Maria pulled out of Marsha, reached for his compression pistol, and raised it--just as his head was blown clean off his body. It exploded like a watermelon that burst wide open.

Colonel Ted Strayker stood there, wearing a severe brown suit with tall collars, holding a smoking compression rifle. He looked at the headless body, and then he noticed the nude, cringing female body crouching under a console.

He bent down slightly, and made eye contact.

"Why, hello there, Marsha," said Strayker.

********

"William," Marsha said, smiling nervously as she sipped some tea even as her hands couldn't stop shaking. She was wearing a bathrobe with the CS logo on it. It would serve until she found some clothes of her own, but it also somehow made her feel vulnerable.

"Marsha," Strayker smiled. "It's so good to see you again."

"And you," said Marsha, looking apprehensively at him.

"That was quite a trick you pulled," said Strayker. "Directing a strong temporal signal, one we would notice, and then flicking it on and off, on and off, like old-style Morse Code. How long were you doing it before we noticed?"

"A few weeks," said Marsha.

"Well, it was very clever. Without your help, we might never have found the hideout of the Temporal Social Justice Warriors."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," said Strayker. He looked at her expectantly. "I understand you developed time travel technology for not just one but two groups, the Luddites and the Temporal Social Justice Warriors."

Marsha put down her teacup with a clank. "William, they made me do it. I was their prisoner."

Strayker nodded, but his facial expression was unreadable.

"You saw what he was doing to me when you found me, didn't you?" said Marsha.

"Yes, I did notice that," said Strayker, his neutral tone careful not to betray what he really thought.

"I hated him, William! I hated him with a vengeance! He locked me in a closet, and he gave me this," she said, touching the circlet around her neck.

"Yes, we'll have bomb disposal take a look at that later," said Strayker. He paused, and gave her a calculating stare. "You poor thing. You're probably exhausted. After all this, you probably want a nice break. We can arrange to have you retire, somewhere nice, and quiet, and out of the way."

"To retire?" said Marsha, her eyes getting wide.

"After all you've been through, I imagine you want some peace and quiet," said Strayker, staring at her intently.

"No!" Marsha cried. "Please, William, don't retire me!"

"Why not?" said Strayker. "As I recall, the last time we worked together, you ran off."

"Yes... well, that was years ago," said Marsha.

"What's changed?" Strayker asked skeptically.

"I... I have seen the other factions firsthand," said Marsha. "I've seen the danger the timeline faces. At the time I wasn't... exactly thrilled by what you planned to do, but I can see now that it is much, much better than what the others have attempted."

"So I'm the lesser of the evils, am I?" Strayker asked.

His words clearly stung her. "No, William," she said, sitting up abruptly. "Please! I'm begging you! I know more about the Time Shaft than anyone! Perhaps even you. I was the one who figured out how to send a signal to you through the Time Corridor. I was the one who sent a submarine through-"

"That was you?" said Strayker, his eyebrows lifting.

"Yes," said Marsha. "Please, William, give me another chance," she said, leaning forward. She put a hand over his. "Please."

Strayker frowned and pulled his hand away. He stared at her for a long moment, staring at her slightly trembling body. Finally, he nodded. "All right Marsha, we'll give it a try. Only..." His voice trailed off.

"What?"

"My name here is Colonel Ted Strayker. Not William."

Marsha nodded eagerly.

********

"Will that be all, sir?" said Ayesha, giving the Colonel a sly smile as she served him a cup of atomic coffee in his office.

"Not entirely," said Strayker. "I'd like you to take some dictation for me, Ayesha."

"Certainly, sir," said the Indian woman with the long dark hair and the well rounded buttocks. She promptly started to remove her uniform. In moments she was completely nude.

As for the Commander, all he had to do was drop his pants. And so he was still wearing his high collared suit jacket even as he pounded into Ayesha from behind. Very quickly his organ became almost as bright as his plum colored jacket.

Seeing Maria take Marsha in the same way had aroused Strayker, though he would never have admitted it, even to himself. And so, as he took Ayesha in the exact same way that Maria had taken Marsha, a sly grin formed on his face. He loved the way her large ass cheeks jiggled as he entered her from behind. He loved the way hers breast jiggled underneath her as he pounded into her. He loved how she gasped as he filled her with his commanding tool.

"You know, Ayesha, I know about you and Maria," said Strayker conversationally.

Ayesha froze, even as Strayker continued to pound into her.

"Sir?" She started to stand up, but Strayker's firm hand kept her back bent down.

"Don't bother to deny it," said Strayker. "You're the traitor. You're the one who fed the Temporal Social Justice Warriors information about our every move. You're the one who warned them when we set a trap for them. You're the one who arranged for Major Reynolds and three other good men to fall into an artificial black hole."

Ayesha paused. "How did you know?"

"Does it matter?" said Strayker, continuing to move in and out of her.

"I... I guess not." Ayesha paused. "What now?"

"Well, the way I see it, you have two choices," said Strayker. "You can answer questions while we use the Time Shaft on you, or you can answer my questions while I use my own... shaft on you."

Ayesha gulped. "I'll cooperate."

"I thought you might," said Strayker, smiling as he continued to work himself in and out of her. "But Ayesha, you not only have to answer my questions. You also have to give me the best orgasm I've had in months. Can you do that?"

"I'll... I'll try sir."

"I know you will," said Strayker, patting her large ass sympathetically. How he would miss those round ass cheeks!

And so Commander Strayker interrogated Ayesha Poshnipuripetalan, even while he continued to thrust in and out of her from behind. She answered all his questions--when she had started spying for the Temporal Social Justice Warriors, what she had done for them, how she had made contact with them--anything Strayker asked. At the same time she did her best to make sure the Commander got an excellent sexual experience, vigorously rubbing herself backwards into his organ, grinding her hips in a circular motion so his shaft would be intensely stimulated by her soft inner walls. When the Commander cried out, and released into her, she felt a wave of relief coursing through her.

"Was that... sufficient, sir?" she asked nervously, as she felt/watched him pull out of her.

Strayker, his wet penis deflating, nodded reluctantly. "Yes."

"And so... what will become of me?" Standing there, naked, with sperm dripping between her legs, Ayesha had never looked more vulnerable.

Or sexier. Strayker took in the view for a long moment, savoring it. Then he gave a gentle smile. "Well, Ayesha, you can't continue in your position here, of course. But I think you can be allowed to retire with dignity and honor."