The Time War

The Time War

By Gary LM Martin

Chapter 16: The Regrettable Scalping of Christopher Columbus

The Temporal Social Justice Warriors:

Once again, the girls of the Community were getting the worst jobs. Maria Jefferson was plotting something big, but the girls didn't know what it was. He was off with John Cummings and Elijah Ellison and Keith Ashanti and even Red Bull and Ahmed Ahmad, planning something big. And what were the girl's role in all this?

They were told to "plan a big party".

"It's sex discrimination, that's what it is," said Dana Slotkin, as she worked in the kitchen with the other women.

"How can you say that?" asked Alyssa Goldenfrau. Alyssa always took Maria's side, no badly how badly Maria treated them. "Maria is a girl, just like us. He looks out for us."

"Then why are we here in the kitchen, while the men are plotting the next big thing?" Dana asked.

Suddenly Maria poked his head into the kitchen. "Hey girls!"

"Maria!" the girls squealed, all racing to hug him like puppies welcoming their master.

Maria hugged them patiently, one by one, before he came to Dana. He started squeezing her tits. "Dana, I put you in charge. Has everyone been a good girl here?"

"Yes, Maria," said Dana, starting to feel warm and happy.

"Are you sure?" Maria asked, rubbing her rapidly hardening teats through her shirt.

"I'm sure," said Dana, lifting her chin up. Maria gave her a passionate kiss while the other women watched, totally envious.

When Dana pulled back, Maria said, "Girls, I want you all in the conference room. I have a big announcement to make."

********

When they had all gathered in the conference room, Maria made his announcement. "Girls, we are going to undiscover the New World."

The women looked puzzled.

Maria pressed a button on his Pad, and the image of an Italian appeared floating above them. "This man was one of the biggest genocidal murderers of the 15th century."

The man appearing above them was none other than Christopher Columbus.

"If not for this man, the North American continent wouldn't have been raped of its natural resources. If not for this man, Superior Americans wouldn't have been pushed from their lands by evil white Europeans. And if not for this man, millions of brothers of color wouldn't have been enslaved," said Maria. "I propose... to liquidate this man and his crew of pirates from the face of history."

There was a stunned silence from the women for a moment. The men, of course, already knew. Red Bull had the widest smile of them all. Finally, something was going to be done for his people.

But the white women weren't quite as excited.

"Maria," said Dana, "Wasn't Christopher Columbus merely looking for a pathway to China?"

"He was a capitalist exploiter!" Maria thundered. "He deserves everything he has coming to him, and more." He saw the doubt on Dana's face. He moved closer, so their bodies were touching. Maria's flat feminine chest pressed against Dana's, and his even more feminine penis pressed against Dana's groin. "Dana", he said softly, "Christopher Columbus was white, and whites are always guilty of something, aren't they, Dana?" He rubbed against her, causing her to gasp. "Aren't they?"

"Y-yes," Dana gasped again, looking into his eyes.

"Good," Maria smiled. He took a few steps back.

"Maria, I have a question, if I may," said Katie Lang.

"Yes, Katie?" Katie, like Maria, was a lesbian, only Katie didn't have a penis as Maria did.

Katie said, "Even if we liquidate Columbus, won't America still... eventually... be discovered by Europeans?"

"I had John working on that very issue," said Maria. "According to our calculations, America won't be discovered for at least another two hundred years. By that time the obnoxious white people of Europe will be so enmeshed in their petty wars, that they won't have the resources or inclination to invade the New World. The New World will eventually be inhabited, but by a much more... deserving race of peoples." He put an arm around Red Bull, who looked quite pleased.

"I like the idea," said Chloe Weatherly. "But I just have one question."

"And what is that, Chloe?" Maria asked.

"I thought the Time Shaft only had enough power to project us back to the early 18th century. How in the world are we going back to 1492?"

It was a very good question.

********

Marsha Kalinsky had been a most reluctant convert to the cause.

When Maria had arranged to have her rescued from the Luddites, who had held her hostage long enough to force her to create a Time Shaft for them, he had expected Marsha to be grateful.

And she was, at first. Until she learned she was also expected to build a Time Shaft for the Community.

"But that will take years!" she said.

"Nonsense!" Maria had told her. "You built the Time Shaft for the Luddites in only six years. Now that you know how to do it, you should be able to build it for us much more quickly."

"I won't do it," said Marsha.

"In my experience," said Maria, "the word 'won't' is simply another way of saying 'I will, but at a later time'".

Maria had tried his best to be gentle with her. He had introduced Marsha to the joys of lesbian penis. It had worked with Chloe Weatherly, Dana Slotkin, Alyssa Goldenfrau, and countless other women. But his charm didn't seem to work on Marsha. She didn't seem to enjoy lesbian scissoring with Maria, whether he had a penis or not.

And so Maria had been forced to introduce Marsha to the closet. At first, it was a standard walk-in closet, perhaps three feet long by three feet wide. But he quickly determined that it wasn't small enough, so he had a new one built, one that gave no option for sitting down, eighteen inches by twelve inches, and he let Marsha stand in the dark for hours at a time.

It worked. Quickly Marsha became a willing if not enthusiastic convert to his plan. And it only took two years of persistent effort to construct a Time Shaft, using Maria's generous allotment of funds from the grievance business which had made him a wealthy man, back when he had been a man. But Marsha always seemed to test Maria's generosity, and he found he had to put her back in the closet from time to time to help remind her that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Or the one.

And so when Maria had come to Marsha, and told her of his plan to go back to the year 1492, Marsha had flatly said that was impossible.

Impossible

was clearly a resistance word, and so Maria ordered Marsha to go into her closet. Maria had trained Marsha well. Even if Marsha hadn't been wearing the circlet around her neck containing four grams of a powerful explosive, she would still have obeyed him. Marsha, her head hung low, had obediently walked into the closet, closing the door behind her. Maria smiled as he heard the click of the lock closing. He always loved that sound.

He had intended to leave Marsha in there only a few hours, but then he had gotten distracted by Chloe, and then Alyssa, and it wasn't until the next morning that he remembered leaving something in the oven, so to speak, and he opened the door to the closet. Marsha collapsed to the ground, and told him, sobbing, that yes, it was possible to go back to 1492, but that it would be difficult.

Maria didn't like to hear the word

difficult

, as that was almost as strong a resistance word as

impossible

. So he asked a weeping Marsha if she wanted to rephrase that, and Marsha assured him that yes, it would be possible to go back to 1492, but it would take a little time.

Maria encouraged Marsha to take all the time she needed, as long as it wasn't longer than two weeks, the time he felt he needed to plan and prepare for this mission. Whenever the goal seemed in doubt, he would offer Marsha more closet time in the hopes it would inspire her to greatness. Marsha always declined, and redoubled her efforts.

And there it was. Maria looked at the holoscreen at the image of the Grand Bahamas Island, in the year 1492. At least, Marsha assured him it was the year 1492. If it wasn't, Marsha would end up being sorely disappointed.

It was time to go meet the Indians.

********

Maria brought Red Bull with him. He wasn't naïve enough to think that Red Bull would be able to speak the local dialect; both of them had been brainstamped with what they thought was the local language of the time. No, he brought Red Bull for another reason entirely. Maria, with his white skin and rubbery penis, realized that an uneducated person might mistake him for a white man. Maria wanted to meet the natives to meet him with a friendly face, a fellow Superior American they could relate to. Red Bull would be perfect in that role.

They stepped through the gateway and appeared on the desert sands of the Grand Bahamas Island; at least, Maria hoped it was the Grand Bahamas Island.

If not, Marsha would be enjoying some more quality time in the closet, real soon.

When they reached the native village, spears were quickly brandished.

Red Bull spoke in their guttural, native, tongue and quickly relations were established.

It seems the dialect they had been brainstamped with was not exactly how the locals spoke. But still, they managed to get across their meaning.

Red Bull and Maria claimed to be visitors from a faraway land, there to warn them that white men were coming to kill them and steal their women.

The concept of white men was difficult for the tribesmen to accept, as they had never seen white men before and therefore had no word for them. Maria and Red Bull struggled with this for a time, until Maria, in a moment of inspiration, simply told Red Bull to use the word "ugly enemy." That they understood. Sort of.

But while they understood (or seemed to), they didn't seem very moved by what Maria had to say. And they seemed to have a hard time understanding what Maria wanted them to do to these ugly enemies. He found himself reduced to making "chop chop" gestures around Red Bull's head, while the tribesmen watched with irritating smiles. Finally Maria picked up a rock and swung it at Red Bull's head, only stopping inches away, and they gave knowing nods.

That

they understood.

But understanding and agreeing were two different things. Either Red Bull wasn't translating properly, or these Indians... simply didn't care.

Maria slapped his hands on his thigh in frustration. "These people just don't get it. I think we'd have better luck talking to Seminoles."

"Sem-in-oles?" said one of the Indians, in a deep voice. Some of the Indians started to bang their spears into the ground.

Maria's eyebrows raised. So did Red Bull's.

Within moments, Maria had convinced the tribesmen that the newcomers would be allies of the Seminoles, and were best off liquidated.

********

Calle was driving home from the Continuity Service headquarters, and he was exhausted. The Luddites had indeed created a nuclear meltdown in Japanese nuclear reactors in the 21st century, and Calle and his fellow team members had worked tirelessly to reverse them. Calle was tired, but satisfied. It was missions like this, missions lacking in moral ambiguity, that he liked best.

Calle stopped in a convenience store on the way home. He noticed all the customers were Chinese. That was odd, as Calle didn't live in a Chinese suburb of Orlando. Even the cashier was a Chinese man Calle had never seen before. But when the man actually spoke Chinese to him, Calle just stared back at him. He paid, wordlessly and left.

He started to get an uneasy feeling. When he got home, he saw Mrs. Biddington, his landlady, sweeping leaves away from the front of the driveway.

But Mrs. Biddington was now Chinese.

"Ni Hao!" said Mrs. Biddington cheerfully.

It looked like Mrs. Biddington, but a Chinese version of her.

Sweating heavily, Calle went inside and started browsing holochannels. Sure enough, everyone was Chinese. And speaking in Chinese. He tried calling his parents...

And saw them on holo. They looked almost exactly like his parents.....

Except they were also Chinese.

"Ni Hao!" said Calle's mother cheerfully.

Calle broke the connection, and ran for his air car.

********

CS Headquarters was abuzz in activity. He saw Commander Strayker rapidly drain a cup of atomic coffee. "Another!" he barked at a black haired Indian woman with firm buttocks. He puffed on a nuclear cigarette as he watched her walking away from him.

"What's happened, sir?" Calle asked.

"What's happened?" Strayker said, as if the mere question offended him. "The United States has been taken over by the Chinese. That's what's happened, Captain." He glared at Calle, as if it were his fault. "Come with me."

They both fast walked to the control room. Sarah and Naomi looked very busy, studying dozens of holoscreens.

"I can see a progression of the Chinese colonization of America, starting in the late 19th century," said Sarah. "They started on the west coast, and built railroads heading east, using imported white chain gangs from Europe. But I found no signs of any European settlers. I searched back as far in the past as I could. There were no indications of British or Dutch colonies on the East Coast."

"As far back as you could tell," said Strayker. "And that would be the early 18th century, correct?"

"Correct," said Sarah.

"Well then," said Strayker, taking another puff of his nuclear cigarette. He flicked the ashes onto the floor. "What's the most obvious theory?"

"That Christopher Columbus never came to America," said Erica Green.

"Or never lived to tell the tale of it," said Daniel Acton.

"Which doesn't really matter to us, as we can't even get back to the 15th century," said Strayker. "But obviously, someone else could. If someone else can get to the 15th century, so can we. Sarah, call Doctor Vladek, and get on it."

"But sir-"

"I said, get on it." He puffed his nuclear cigarette furiously, and his blue eyes were ablaze.

"Yes, sir," said Sarah, turning away abruptly.

********

John Calle was seasick.

For the past 36 days, he had been posing as a member of Christopher Columbus's crew on his flagship, the

Santa Maria

. The crew subsided on food increasingly infested with maggots and spent their time drunk on rum. At least Calle had his own food, but the journey left him increasingly unwell.

And Christopher Columbus had been more than a bit of a disappointment. He expected the man to be a visionary, a brave and bold traveler. Here was a man who was sailing off into the unknown, all to prove a theory, unproven at this time, that the world was round.

But when he heard Columbus talking to his officers, his respect for the man dropped markedly.

Yes, Columbus was looking for a faster route to China. Yes, he wanted to get rich by invigorating the spice and silk trade. But Christopher Columbus's main obsession seemed to be with... Chinese women.

He would talk about them endlessly. "Julio, the women of the Far East are not to be believed!"

"But are they not slight of build?" asked his companion, gesturing with his hands.

"True," said Columbus. "But what they lack in figure they make up in eagerness to please. And tightness, Julio! I have never been inside a woman as tight as a Chinagirl."

"Not even an Englishwoman?" asked Pablo Neruda, the second mate.

"Not even an Englishwoman."

"Not even a Frenchwoman?" asked Gabriel Garcia Lorca, the third mate.

"Not even a Frenchwoman," said Columbus, smiling broadly.

"What about compared to a Dutch woman?" Julio demanded. "Do not stand there and tell me these Chinese women are better than Dutch whores? Dutch whores are the best in the world!"

"The known world, my friend," said Columbus. "These are like the exotic spices of the Far East. And yes, they are even tighter than the tightest Dutch whore."

The men gasped.

"It is my hope that if we can find a shorter route that we can bring some back and break the monopoly of the Dutch whores," said Columbus. "My friends, I have many plans for this-"

And he went on and on like that, day after day, talking of the joy of having sex with Chinese women. It changed the way Calle thought about Columbus. A bold explorer, yes. A leader of men also. But Columbus was flawed. Columbus... had a fetish for Chinese women.

And so it was a relief when they sighted land on the 36th day. Calle recognized it as the Grand Bahama Island. He went ashore with a landing party. Calle wish he could have gone with him but was not permitted.

He waited and fretted for nearly an hour before Columbus returned, most jubilantly.

This was not China, he said, but a new land, a new land rich with opportunities. The natives were friendly, so friendly, in fact, that they had invited the crew of his three ships to come ashore that night for a party in their honor.

No!

Calle instinctively knew what would happen. There would be no party. Even though he was just an ordinary crewman, he had to try and persuade Columbus not to go.

"Sir, don't go," he cried. "We know not these natives and their intent."

Columbus gave Calle a dismissive look, as if to say, 'Who are you?'. Then he said, "It is safe. And the women are beautiful."

"Beautiful?" said Julio.

"Gorgeous," said Columbus. "They look as if they may be as tight as Chinese women. Perhaps even tighter. We will all find out tonight!"

But they wouldn't. Calle knew better.

He followed them ashore, but hung out at the edge of the camp, waiting for the inevitable.

And sure enough, after Columbus and his men had eaten and drunk and were lured into complacency, the Indians attacked. Columbus and his half witted men never knew what hit them. Crewmembers had their heads chopped off, their skulls smashed, their bodies brutally broken.

Calle watched with horror as an Indian pranced around in the light of a bonfire, wearing the distinctive brown curls of Christopher Columbus on his head. Christopher Columbus, the great explorer and lover of Chinese women, had been scalped.

Suddenly, two warriors noticed Calle, standing at the edge of the village. Calle drew his compression pistol and shot them. But that attracted the attention of others, who started running towards him. He quickly pressed his recall device and called for the gateway.

**********

"So someone persuaded the Indians to slaughter Christopher Columbus," said Strayker, puffing furiously on a nuclear cigarette. "It sounds like the work of the TSJW's."

"I would agree," said Doctor Vladek.

"Now that we know what was done, how do we stop it?" Strayker asked.

"We could prevent him from discovering America," said Daniel.

They all looked at him like he was mad.

"No, I mean it," said Daniel. "Look, Columbus discovered America by landing at the Grand Bahama Island. Well... let's simply have him land somewhere else."

"How?" Erica Green asked.

"We'll replace his navigator. He'll go wherever we want him to. It could be as simple as sending him to a different island in the Bahamas. He'll never know the difference."

Everyone around the conference table slowly nodded.

Calle, after having spent a month riding the Santa Maria in 1492, was excused from further duty, and Daniel took his place. Daniel replaced Columbus's navigator shortly before the voyage began, and made sure to steer a course to a smaller island in the Bahamas, using technology not yet available in the 15th century.

But when they arrived at their destination, Daniel was disturbed to find a greeting party waiting for Columbus.

Once again, they had arrived at the same island.

Daniel gritted his teeth and tried again, redoing the voyage and spending another month pretending to be Columbus's navigator. This time he made sure Columbus got nowhere near the Bahamas. His goal was to have him land in Florida instead.