C
hapter 15: The Positronic Negro
A Continuity Service team was getting ready to go to Japan in the year 2011. There were reports of meltdowns at Japanese nuclear power plants in Fukushima, meltdowns that had never occurred in the main timeline. Luddite sabotage was suspected, and a team was preparing to check it out.
But as the team led by Major Roger Farley was about to head into the Binochi corridor, one of his men, Lieutenant Miles Ferris, started twitching uncontrollably.
"Miles, are you all right?" Sarah asked.
"The Corridor!" said Miles, pointing at it. "We can't go! We can't! The monster! The monster in the Corridor! It will get us! It will get us all!"
"Miles, get a grip on yourself," said Major Farley, grabbing him by the arms.
"No! Don't you hear it? Don't you hear it calling to us?" Miles pulled free, and with a scream, ran towards the Corridor, towards what he said he feared most. He was clearly insane.
A shot rang out, and Miles fell face down on the floor, two feet short of the gateway.
Everyone turned and saw Colonel Strayker standing there, holding a smoking compression pistol, He pointed at Miles with his weapon. "Have that man taken to sickbay." When no one moved, he said, "Well?"
People moved.
Calle had witnessed the entire scene. After the rest of Major Farley's team had gone through the Corridor, he asked Sarah about it in a low voice.
"It's temporal psychosis," said Sarah, pretending to work her console as she talked to Calle without looking at him.
"Has it happened before?"
"Sometimes," said Sarah, briefly looking up at him.
"What causes it?"
"We don't know," said Sarah. "Doctor Vladek thinks it may be a cumulative effect from going through the Binochi Corridor."
"Wonderful," said Calle.
"Afraid?" Sarah inquired.
"Why would I be afraid? It's just that I could go crazy at any moment, I suppose."
"Well, before you do that, why don't we have sex one more time, for old time's sake?"
Calle thought about it, and nodded. It made sense. "All right."
********
They both needed it. The horror of what they had experienced had unnerved them both. They both travelled through the Corridor. They realized it could happen to either of them, without warning. They needed to forget, and for an hour, as they enjoyed each others' bodies, they did.
Afterwards, when they lay side by side, Calle said, "You know, something odd happened to me today."
Sarah gave him a provocative stare. "I know. Something odd happened to me as well."
Calle said, "What?"
"You had sex with me."
Sarah laughed, and Calle tickled her for that. "Now, you've distracted my train of thought."
"Let me see if I can't help your train back on track," she said, fondling the head of his penis.
"Stop that," said Calle.
"Really?" Sarah asked.
"No," said Calle. "Anyway, where was I?"
"Your track," she said, fondling using her other hand to gently fondle his balls.
"Yes," said Calle, trying not to be distracted. "I was talking to Daniel today."
"Now that's odd."
"Quiet!" Calle grinned. "Anyway, I was talking to him about something, and somehow, the War of 1898 came up."
"I know. It comes up all the time in my conversations too," said Sarah.
"I'm being serious," said Calle. "While you're at it, can you pet my shaft, too?"
"Why not?" said Sarah, moving her hands upwards.
"Ah, like that. So nice, thank you. Anyway, I was talking to Daniel about the War of 1898, and he had never heard of it. Can you imagine that, a historian who never heard of the War of 1898?" He saw the puzzled look on Sarah's face. "The Spanish American War?"
"What war would that be, Senor?" Sarah giggled.
"Sarah, don't play games with me," said Calle, sitting up. "Are you telling me you never heard of the Spanish American War?"
"No," said Sarah. "Though 19th century American history was never my strongpoint."
"The Philippines. Cuba. Both got their independence after the war."
Sarah shook her head. "That's not what I learned in school. Spain simply let both of them go after the end of World War II."
"Are you serious?"
Sarah thought a moment. "Yes." She looked at him. "So you're remembering a war no one else does. That sounds like stage two Temporal Psychosis to me."
Calle was startled. He had never considered that possibility.
Was he crazy, or was something wrong with the world? Any answer would not be a good one.
And then he remembered what Miles had said. That he had heard voices, in the corridor. Voices of a "monster".
Calle always assumed that everyone heard the whispers from the Binochi corridor. Maybe he was the only one who could hear them.
Maybe he was the one who was going crazy.
********
The Black White Supremacists:
Ken Larson simply
adored
his cozy white book club.
It was one of the many things that white people did together that made them so fascinating as a race. To sit down, with other people, and discuss the merits of literature, while all of them were so...
white
... was just something that Larson loved to do. While followers of Laquinta were murdering each other over what kind of prayers they should do at the dinner table, while black Africans were robbing each other on dirt roads, while South Americans and many Asians were still living 500 years behind the times, White people were sitting together, sipping nuclear tea, and discussing holobooks. It was so tremendously
civilized
.
They were talking about
Ascension
, a book written by a preeminent white author named Oma DaSalla. Larson thought the author was Italian, but nationality didn't matter (as long as she was white). Ken was sitting with several of his new white friends, debating whether the themes of the novel had been articulated in a truly dramatic way. As he sipped a glass of sherry, he realized what a wonderful time he was having.
"I loved the way she described the trees and the mountains in Chapter Four," said Shari Warbutton. "I closed my eyes and practically felt like I was there."
"Didn't you just love the reunion Betsy had with her long lost child? I was in tears by the time I finished it!" said Masada Fielding.
"The book had such deep, nuanced characters," said Mark Waterston. "I haven't read anything like it in years."
Larson loved watching white people talk about books. He loved watching them have their bookgasms. It was so refreshing, so relaxing.
And then Velma had to come into the room and spoil it all. "Ken, you're late for your own meeting. Again."
Ken checked his chrono. Where had the time gone? He stood up and saved the program, and sadly watched his new white friends disappear. He turned and saw the look of disapproval in Velma's eyes. Velma didn't want to do any of this. All Velma wanted was to retire in Florida. But she stayed with him because she loved him, even if she wasn't as
ideologically driven
as he was.
********
Ken entered the conference room with a spring in his step, as he always did when he had been refreshed by the company of white people. "My friends, the time has come to abolish slavery!"
"We tried that already. Twice, Dad," said Jamal glumly. "Each time we try, the Continuity Service just reverses whatever we do."
"But this time we will put into play something which the Continuity Service cannot possibly counter."
"And what is that?" Jamal asked.
"Kevin, if you can do the honors?" said Ken.
Kevin Myrtle, who was the mechanical engineer of the group, pressed a button on his Pad.
They heard a whirring sound. And then, very slowly, a robot entered the room.
It was tall, nearly seven feet, and had a single glowing red eye. It had arms and legs like a man, but was clearly made of metal.
"This... this is the answer," said Ken, with a wide grin. "We are going to get plantation owners to replace their slave worker force with robots."
"Robots?" said Jamal. "They've never even seen robots in the 18th century."
"Well, we'll just explain that they're a new kind of... hoe."
"A hoe?" said Jamal, looking at the tall robot.
Mel Watts, who was their financier, spoke up. "Ken, not to be critical, but why don't we use humaniform robots? I think they would be much more easier for 17th century folk to accept."
"It's a money problem, Mel," said Ken. "We estimate we are going to need at least a fifty thousand robots to replace 600,000 slaves. You have generously funded our project here, but even you don't have the funds to try and buy 50,000 humaniform robots."
"We're getting them cheap, surplus, from the 29th century," said Kevin Myrtle.
"You're buying them from the future?" Mel asked.
Kevin nodded. "They're a lot cheaper in the 29th century."
"Why not go even farther into the future, and look for even cheaper robots? Maybe humaniform robots will be affordable then," Mel said.
Kevin shook his head. "After the 29th century, robots were phased out in favor of virtual assistants. That's why we were able to get these so cheaply. They're all surplus. We got them for scrap metal prices."
Mel looked at the tall robot with the single red glowing eye. "And you really think you can get farmers to accept this?"
"Sure," said Ken.
"What about changes to the timeline?" Velma asked. "Kenneth Larson, you're going to dump 50,000 robots into the 18th century. Don't tell me that isn't going to change the timeline a whole lot."
"So?" Ken shrugged. "It will only make America more advanced."
"And more white," said Jamal.
"And what could possibly be wrong with that?" Ken asked, with a goofy smile.
********
William Aiken ran one of the largest plantations in South Carolina, with nearly 700 slaves. He was skeptical, to say the least, about this stranger's assertion that his odd metal... thing... could replace all his slaves.
"But just let me demonstrate it. Please, sir," Ken Larson pleaded.
Aiken had to admit that he was curious. He gave a curt nod.
Ken Larson whispered into his hidden collar mike.
The red eyed robot stomped forward. "Greetings sir. My name is Robby, and I will be your cotton picking slave. Where is the cotton you would like me to pick?"
