The Time War

Chapter 36: Pearl Harbor

The Temporal Social Justice Warriors:

"Faster, Craig, faster," Dana Slotkin whispered urgently, her voice heavy with need.

Craig Fuller pounded between Dana's legs, rapidly moving his stiff organ in and out of her nether lips.

There had been an unexpected meeting scheduled at the last minute, as was typically the case. Maria hewed to no schedule except his own. And so they had all gotten messages over their comms that Maria was holding a Community-wide meeting in ten minutes.

Which would not have been a problem, except for the fact that by the time they had gotten the message, Craig's penis was deep inside of Dana's vagina.

The logical thing to do, the

safest

thing to do, would have been for Craig to calmly pull out, the two of them get dressed, and make their separate ways to the conference room. But Dana wouldn't have it.

She had first tasted Craig's organ inside of her two weeks ago, and was hungry for more. His penis was the ultimate forbidden fruit. She knew the penalties if they were discovered together would be severe. Craig was supposed to be an inanimasexual white male, not a

heterosexual

white male. If Maria found out....

Craig wanted to stop. But Dana had put her arms around him and held him tightly and said, "A little more, Craig. Just a little more, I'm almost there, almost there!"

And so Craig moved in and out of her, poling back and forth rapidly in an effort to get Dana to climax. Dana hadn't made any inquiries about Craig's own progress towards his own cherished goal, and at the moment, she didn't care. Her clitoris felt like it was going to explode. She had to come,

now

.

"Harder, Craig, harder!" she whispered.

Craig bit his lip and started thrusting into her harder, so hard that Dana's expansive Sephardic breasts started bouncing in every direction. Dana's breasts were not pointy, but they were wide, like pancake batter. They jiggled as Craig pounded into her.

"Uh... uh... uh...." Dana cried, as her breasts jiggled with every vibration. She couldn't bear the thought of sitting in a meeting with Maria with this state of arousal. She would have a hand under the tablet the entire time. She had to get rid of it. Oh, there it comes! Thereitcomesthere itcomesthereitcomes-

"Uh... uh... aaaaaaaahhhhhh!" Dana cried, her back arching outwards, her chest flushing red, and her head jerking back. She sighed. A moment later, she looked up at Craig. "That was good!"

"I'm getting... getting closer...." said Craig, still pumping her.

"No time! Get dressed!" she cried, pushing him off her.

********

"Ah, nice to see the two of you joining us," said Maria.

Dana's blood ran cold as she saw that she and Craig were the last to enter the conference room. All eyes were on them. They were in such a rush that they hadn't even spaced out their arrival.

"Where were you?" Maria asked, with just a hint of malice in his voice.

"I was cataloging in the supply room," said Dana. She tried to keep her voice calm. "Butter. We are low on butter."

"Are we?" said Maria. He casually walked over to where Dana and Craig were sitting. They were sitting together because those were the only two seats left! Somehow it made their situation look all the more incriminating. As Maria walked over to them, the room full of people was so silent that one could hear a pin drop.

Maria put his hands on the back of Craig's chair. "And where were you, Craig?"

"Craig was with me," said Dana quickly. She knew that she was a better liar than Craig, that Maria would see right through him.

"Was he?" said Maria evenly, staring at Craig.

"Yes... he was helping me... with the inventory," said Dana, her voice faltering.

Maria gave Craig a hard stare, even though Craig hadn't said a word. "That's nice, Craig. That's really nice."

Dana felt her heart was about to burst. But then Maria stood tall, and walked back to his seat.

"I've called you all here to announce we are going to correct a tremendous historical wrong. A historical wrong called Pearl Harbor."

********

Everyone knew the story of the battle of Pearl Harbor. President Eleanor Roosevelt, who had become president in 1940 after her husband, Franklin had been poisoned by Eleanor's secret lover, Lorena Hickok, had slapped a trade embargo on the Japanese in response to their warlike aggression in the Far East. The Japanese had responded with a surprise attack on the naval base at Pearl Harbor, thinking they would destroy the American fleet.

They thought wrong.

The Americans had broken the Japanese naval code, and were fully prepared for the Japanese attack. The ambushers became the ambushees, and planes from the USS

Enterprise

, USS

Saratoga

, and USS

Lexington

ambushed six Japanese Carriers--the

Akagi, Kaga, Sōryū, Hiryū, Shōkaku, and Zuikaku

, while their planes were on deck, preparing to launch. All the carriers were wiped out in the span of 20 minutes, and with it, the better part of the Japanese fleet. America declared war on Japan after that, and without their carrier force, was at Toyko's doorstep in six months. Japan sued for peace after two atomic bombs were dropped on targets specially selected by Lorena Hickok.

But Maria wanted to change that. He wanted to intercept the decoded message warning the Americans of the Japanese attack. He wanted Pearl Harbor to be a slaughter, but a slaughter of American naval forces, not the Japanese.

"Just think of it!" said Maria. "American imperialism will get a bloody nose! A war that ended in six months will take years, costing more white male lives! And meanwhile we provide invaluable assistance to our fine yellow Japanese friends."

Chloe Weatherly raised her hand. "Yes, Chloe?"

"But weren't the Japanese themselves oppressors? Didn't they kill millions of people in China?"

Maria gritted his teeth. Why did no one understand? "Yes, Chloe, that's all true. But while yellow people killing yellow people is perhaps undesirable, it's not racist. When a white person kills a yellow person, that's ten times as bad as when a yellow person kills another yellow person. Don't you see?"

Chloe nodded fearfully, but it was clear that she didn't.

Maria was sensing more and more dissension in the Community lately, and he didn't like it. The black men--Elijah Ellison, John Cummings, and to a lesser extent Keith Ashanti--were unhappy that they weren't doing more to help black people. The women--Dana Slotkin, Katie Lang, Chloe, and Alyssa Goldenfrau--were constantly whining that they weren't doing enough to help feminist causes.

And what about the lesbians

? Katie Lang would always whine.

Meanwhile, Red Bull was unhappy that nothing was being done to help Superior Americans. He didn't appreciate all the efforts Maria had taken to try to assassinate Christopher Columbus. Red Bull considered the effort a

failure

. Maria didn't like the word

failure

, that was a resistance word.

But the one who worried him the most right now was Ahmed Ahmad. Ahmed had been totally ungrateful for Maria's effort to unite the Laquintan factions. So what if it didn't work? They could always try again! But Ahmed wanted action

now

, not tomorrow, not next month or next year, and he was increasingly giving Maria crazy eyes. Ahmed was one to watch closely.

So was Marsha Kalinsky, but in a different way. He came into the control room yesterday, and found the Binochi Corridor was active. She immediately shut it down the moment he entered, a clear sign she had been doing something wrong. Maria had asked for an explanation, but Marsha had only vaguely stated that she was performing maintenance on the Time Shaft. Her obvious duplicity had earned her a twelve hour shift in the closet. She emerged contrite, sobbing, but like Ahmed, Marsha needed to be closely supervised.

The only one who seemed content was Joy Montana. Ever since the untimely passing of her husband Pablo, she had been Maria's almost constant companion, an eager lover in bed, and always very keen to see that his physical needs were more than fulfilled. Sometimes Maria saw Joy staring at him with what more like fear in her eyes than love, but Maria didn't care; in his mind, the two were one and the same.

*********

John Calle and Sarah Chambers appeared in Honolulu on November 3rd, 1941, both dressed in civilian clothing. Their cover story was that they were reporters for

Stars and Stripes

, writing a story about the gallant ladies who worked in the Naval Cryptography Service. Their real assignment was to locate the undercover operative who had intercepted the message about the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. After extensive research they had narrowed the possibilities to three women, all of whom they were interviewing: Barbara Wilson, Marissa Fredericks, and Katie Covington.

John and Sarah were working closely together for the first time since... since they had ended their relationship. Since

he

had ended their relationship. Oh, they had been on the

Titanic

, but that had been a very brief assignment. Calle looked at Sarah now, with her hair made up in classic 1940's style curves, and wearing a beautiful dress which accentuated her legs and misleadingly gave the impression that she had breasts. She looked gorgeous.

Sarah noticed his looks and gave him a cool look in response. They were working together, but they were not

together

, in any other meaning of the word.

They began their interviews with Barbara Wilson.

Barbara Wilson was

quiet

. She was a young woman, perhaps 24 years of age, but looked even younger. It was clear she led a sheltered life and was quite shy. She answered their questions monosyllabically whenever she could.

Did she like her work?

Yes.

What did she like about her work?

It was important.

What did she do for fun?

Relax.

The only subject that she opened up about, a little, was her supervisor, a Mr. Jordan. She told them, with a guilty smile, that Jordan was a "dreamboat" who was a kind and wonderful man.

After they had thanked Miss Wilson and she had left, Calle turned to Sarah. Sarah shrugged.

"That's it?" said Calle. "You were selected for this mission because you're a Passive Observer. You're supposed to be able to spot small details."

Sarah shrugged. "There were no details worth noting here."

"She was very quiet. Evasive," said Calle.

"People who don't talk much aren't always evasive," said Sarah, raising an eyebrow. "They simply may not have much to say."

"I'm a little suspicious of her," said Calle.

"I can understand that," said Sarah. "Quiet girls seem to make you feel insecure."

They matched gazes for a long moment, and then Calle said, "Let's interview the next possibility, shall we?"

********

If Barbara Wilson was quiet, Marissa Fredericks was more talkative, but somehow she didn't say a whole lot.

What do you like about your job?

I don't know. I just do!

Where do you live?

Uh... in the northern part of Honolulu.

Where are you originally from?

Northern California.

Where in Northern California?

Near Oregon.

What's your favorite sports team?

I don't watch a lot of sports.

The only thing that Marissa Fredericks seemed to know was that her superior, a Mister Jordan, was a friendly man who would often buy the girls' lunches for them, and he had a smile which could "light up the room."

After Miss Fredericks had left, Sarah said, "Well, we're finding out more about Mister Jordan, at least."

"You don't think her answers were evasive?" said Calle. "She practically couldn't even tell us where she lived."

"You heard her. She's from Northern California," said Sarah. She made a blowing sound and gestured as if something went in one of her ears and came out the other.

"And what, she's dumb because she's from California?"

"I never said that," said Sarah.

Calle stood face to face with Sarah. "You think all women are dumb, compared to you."

"All women

are

dumb, compared to me," said Sarah.

"Is this about Marissa Fredericks, or something about us?"

"You tell me," Sarah said.

*********

If Barbara Wilson was quiet, and Marissa Fredericks was vapid, then Katie Covington was absolutely

charming

.

"It's so nice of you kind folks to be interested in little ole me," she said, with a cute-as-a-button Southern Accent. Katie was dark haired, with curls, but with her charming personality could easily have been a blonde.

Calle smiled at her. Katie smiled back. Sarah frowned.

After the awkward interviews with the other two cryptographers, talking to Katie Covington was positively wonderful.

She even put her hand over Calle's as she said, "Yes Mr. Callington, I do have a fiancée. She giggled. "His name is Greg, and he's the most handsome man you'll ever see... except maybe you, sir."

She was flirting with Calle.

And of course, she gave the obligatory shout out to her boss, the much talked about Mr. Jordan. "A darling man. He has such wonderful posture!"

Sarah frowned again, but seemed content to let Calle lead the conversation.

*********

"So?" Colonel Strayker barked. "Which one is it?" He shook his head as Ayesha, the Indian woman with the firm buttocks, offered him another cup of atomic coffee. Instead, he puffed like mad on his nuclear cigarette as he glared at Sarah and Calle.

"Marissa Fredericks," said Calle.

"Why?" Those hard blue eyes stared into him.

"She's evasive. And she doesn't even know basic things, like sports teams of the era. I'm almost sure it's her," said Calle.

Those hard blue eyes turned to Sarah. "And do you agree?'

Sarah stared at Calle for a moment. Then she simply said, "No."

"No?" said Calle. "Then who do you think it is?"

"Katie Covington," said Sarah promptly.

"Katie? She was the most real one of the bunch!" said Calle.

"To

your

eyes," said Sarah. "While you were staring at her breasts, John, did you happen to notice her fingernails?"

"Her fingernails?" said Calle, frowning.

"She had nail polish on," said Sarah.

"So?" said Calle.

"The pattern was perfect. A little too perfect. It wasn't painted by a human hand," said Sarah.

"You could tell that by looking?" Calle asked.

Sarah leaned towards him. "I don't know if you know this, John, but I am a Passive Observer."

"That's it, Sarah? The woman had suspicious nail polish?" Strayker asked.

"No sir," said Sarah. "The woman also referred to her superior, Mr. Jordan, in what was meant to be a lustful way. They all did. But Katie Covington raved about Mr. Jordan's posture."

"So?" said Calle.

"You have a lot to learn about women, John Calle," said Sarah. "A woman may like a man's eyes," she said, looking into his. "Or his arms, or his chest, or his hair, or the sound of his voice. But when she's attracted to a man, she doesn't think about his... posture."

Strayker leaned forward, as nuclear cigarette smoke wafted from his hand. "What are you saying, Sarah?"

"Only that while Miss Covington appeared to be so intent on seducing Captain Calle, all her attention in actuality was focused on me," said Sarah.

"No," said Calle, his eyebrows furling.

"Yes," said Sarah.

"Are you sure?" Calle asked.

"A woman always knows," Sarah said.

"A woman always knows?" Calle repeated.

"A Passive Observer woman always does," Sarah responded.

********

Colonel Strayker wanted Katie Covington taken alive. Not only would her capture restore the timeline and make Pearl Harbor the graveyard of the Japanese Navy, as it always did in the main timeline, but it would give the Continuity Service an incredible opportunity to capture and interrogate a Temporal Social Justice Warrior and find out their point of origin.

And so while Sarah stayed behind, Calle found himself part of a team of eight operatives, including Major Reynolds and Erica Green. Calle would identify Katie Covington, and Reynolds' men would grab her.

They had found out where Katie Covington lived, at a small cabin in a rural outskirts of Honolulu. The ambush would be conducted there. They arrived in the late afternoon, and set a trap for Covington.

But instead, they found a trap set for them. A half dozen armed men and women poured out of the forest around the cabin, brandishing compression rifles. "Get them!" one of the men yelled. They opened fire.

Major Reynold's team took cover behind trees on the other side of the narrow road.

A vigorous firefight began. Streams of compressed energy whizzed by Calle's head. "Maybe we should withdraw!" Calle shouted.

"No!" said Reynolds. "Keep firing!"

And then, the unexpected happen. While the two sides were firing at each other, a boy came peddling down the road, on a bicycle. The boy couldn't have been more than 12 years old.

"Get out, get back!" Calle screamed, trying to make himself heard over the roar of compression rifles.

The boy seemed to pay no heed, looking curiously at the battle even as he calmly peddled into the crossfire.

But then the boy stopped peddling and his feet touched the ground. And then he raised his arms over his head, and clapped his hands together.

"Oh no... no....." said Calle.

Time seemed to freeze as the boy grew big, tall, and muscular. In moments his skin and clothing were transparent. They could see his internal organs and enormous arm and leg muscles, backlit from an unseen orange light source. Seconds later they could see that familiar face, with the thick eye goggles and the flat mask over his lips.

The Bioman had returned.

The firefight was frozen, literally. Calle could see streaks of compressed energy in the air, like long white lines of snow. Everyone could see, and hear. They just couldn't move a muscle.

The Bioman walked over to each of them, not in any obvious hurry. He went face to face with each of them, staring at them, one by one, until he got to John Calle. When he stopped in front of John, he stared at Calle for a long moment.

Calle could see the sparkling orange energy deep inside the Bioman's goggles. He could see the air bubbles leaking out of the side of the Bioman's mouth mask. He imagined he could hear the raspy breathing of the Bioman each time he took a breath. All the Bioman's internal organs were on display. Calle watched the Bioman's heart beat, slowly but surely. He looked at his giant arm and leg muscles. And then his face. That expressionless face.

The Bioman stared at Calle another long moment, longer, it seemed, then he stared at the others. Another air bubble escaped from his mouth mask. Then the Bioman appeared to nod, ever so slightly, and he turned and went on to the next person.

The Bioman visited them all, one by one, first inspecting each Continuity Service operative, then crossing the road to look at each Temporal Social Justice Warrior. After looking at one such person and going on to the next, he quickly reversed course, going back to the person he had already looked at, and nodded slightly.

The Bioman picked the person, a tall man, up and slung him effortlessly over his shoulder. The man screamed.

The Bioman turned to face Calle, and then he pressed something in his hand. The outline of the Bioman turned into a brilliant beam of light, and then he, and his unwilling cargo, were gone.

And suddenly, liquid once again turned to air, and time returned to normal.

"Let's get out of here!" one of the TSJW's cried.

Suddenly, they saw a gateway forming. The Temporal Social Justice Warriors ran into it.

"After them!" Reynolds cried. His mission had been to capture one of the TSJW's. He knew Colonel Strayker didn't tolerate failure lightly. His only chance to redeem himself now was to follow them to their base and eliminate them.