POLITICALLY CORRECT
BY
MARK "ABDUL" TORRES
(WASHINGTON, D.C., FALL 1995 & SPRING 2295)

October 8, 1995.

Life stinks. OK maybe it doesn't stink. But it can sure smell real bad sometimes.

Today my teacher yelled at me for being "Insensitive to the feelings of those in the classroom community who come from an economically challenged environment." I don't even know what that means. All I wanted to know was what "welfare" was. I also got a 'D' on that stupid homework assignment about "Why daddy/mommy doesn't live with us anymore." I didn't know what to write. Is it my fault that my parents are still married?

Even at home I feel like an oddball. I'm not like the rest of my family. Everyone can do something neat and special. My Aunt Randi is a werewolf. It's cool to watch her eat raw meat. Uncle Russell is a snow vampire. He can't turn into a wolf like Aunt Randi but it's fun to play ball with him when he's a seal. My dad is undistruckable. I saw him get hit by a car once. He didn't have a scratch on him. The car wasn't so lucky. Mom has psychotic powers. She seems to be able to tell what I'm thinking. But she says that all moms can do that. My older brother Jeff can turn himself invisible. I don't play hide and seek with him anymore... he cheats. Heck! Even my little sister Christina can do neat things. When she wants to she can...

"Watcha writin'?"

Startled, Jason Michaels slammed shut his journal. Looking around, he found he was the only one in his bedroom. "Damn it, Jeff! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"I'm gonna to tell Mom you cursed." Jeff smirked as his freckled face slowly became visible.

Jason retaliated, "You do and I'll tell her you snuck into the girl's locker room at school."

Jeffrey quickly changed the subject, "Dad's home. Says he's got some good news for us." Jeffrey turned to leave and added, "I bet he's gonna tell us that you're adopted, you little twerp."

"You take that back, Dumbo!"

As soon as he said it, Jason knew he was in trouble. Jeff was extremely sensitive about his ears. To put it nicely, if his ears were lips he would be Mick Jagger. Their parents kept telling him he'd grow into them. How do you grow into ears?

It wasn't much of a fight. A nine year old boy versus an angry twelve year old didn't have much of a chance. By the time Christina passed by the door and spotted them, Jeffrey was holding Jason six inches above the ground... by his underwear.

The wide-eyed girl clutched her teddy bear fiercely. "Mom! Dad! They're fighting again!"

"Tattle-tale." Jeffrey sneered as he released the grip on his little brother.

"Mom!" Christina cried as she ran down the hall.

"Boy, is she a cry baby," Jeffrey declared in disgust.

"What do you want? She's only a girl." Jason tucked the excess fabric back into his pants.

"Yeah, but she's afraid of her own shadow."

Jason looked Jeff in the eye. "Would you rather she got mad at you?"

There was a momentary look of fear in his eyes before he turned away. He quietly muttered, "No... no I wouldn't."

"Jason... Jeffrey... get down here... now!" A stern voice echoed throughout the house.

The boys walked downstairs, heads hung low, ready for punishment. Waiting for them at the bottom, stood Detective Joshua Michaels of the Los Angeles police department and his wife, Judge Stephanie Michaels of the 3rd district criminal court. Clutched to her leg was their sobbing seven year old sister.

"Dad, he said...," both boys blurted out in stereo.

Joshua interrupted, "I don't want to hear it!" Continuing in a calmer voice, "We'll talk about this later." The boys sighed with relief for the temporary reprieve. "Right now I have some good news to share with you."

"What is it, Daddy?" asked Christina as she wiped away the last of the tears.

"Remember last month when I busted that black market arms dealer?" After everyone nodded he continued, "Well, I'm being presented with an award for it next week."

"Another award... how exciting," Jeffrey intoned in a sarcastic voice.

Detective Michael's stared at his oldest son, who immediately looked down, ashamed of what he'd just said. He couldn't blame him though. His unique ability did allow him to take more risks than the other officers, thus getting him more recognition.

"It's not just another award. It's a presidential award. We're going to Washington so the president can present it to me in person," Joshua informed them with pride.

Sheepishly Christina spoke up. "What's a president?"

Before Joshua could open his mouth, Jason volunteered, "A president is somebody who lies in order to get people to like him. And then, when enough people like him, they give him the job of running the country. And then, when he realizes that he doesn't have the ability to do the job, he let's his wife do it."

Suppressing a laugh, Stephanie Michaels attempted to scold her son. "Have you been listening to that man again?"

"Yes ma'am," Jason replied, knowing who she meant.

"Didn't I tell you I don't want you watching him anymore?" She used the tone that is genetically bred into all mothers.

"Yes ma'am."

"Then why did you?"

"You told me not to watch him. So I listened to his radio show instead," he said with a smile, as if that made all the difference in the world.

As if she was in her courtroom, she passed sentence. "From now on, I do not want you watching or listening to him. Do you understand, young man?"

"Yes ma'am," Jason replied in defeat... the perfect ending to an otherwise lousy day.

* * *

March 18, 2295.

Sometimes I wish that Time Travel had never been discovered. At first it seemed like a good idea. People could go back in time and correct injustices committed in the past. It was a noble idea, and if everyone had been as noble and idealistic as my cousin Sam was in his time travels, it would've worked. But it is was a mistake.

Soon, a few of the Time Travelers were corrupted by the power they wielded. Some stole the technology and built their own time machines. That's when history started to warp. These Time Bandits could go back in time and use the advanced technology for their own personal gain. Because of this, society has been in a state of disarray for the last three hundred years. Whenever the world seemed to take a turn for the better, some unexplainable event occurred to wipe out any trace of hope.

That's why the Time Patrol was created; to track down and eliminate the Time Bandits. It's a dangerous job. Many people have died... except me. Well, actually I did die... many times... but I've never stayed dead for very long. I'm immortal.

It's been three weeks since my last mission; three weeks since my last failure. Earl says it wasn't my fault. Part of me believes him. The other part still thinks there was something more I could've done. If only I'd recovered a little bit quicker. If only I'd gotten there a little bit sooner. If only...

"Captain Michaels, report to the control room."

Jason Michaels was retrieved from his downward spiral of self doubt. He looked around and found himself alone in his quarters. He shut off his personal log recorder. "What is it, Earl?"

"A Temporal Beacon has been activated. Someone is requesting reinforcements." The voice seemed to come from thin air.

Jason never could get used to the communication system. Whenever he heard a voice coming from out of nowhere, it reminded him of his brother. If only he could've gotten along better with him. But that was so long ago.

"There's nobody left to send," Jason replied in a defeated tone.

Aware of his friend's depression, Earl carefully asked, "What about Squad Nine?"

"They're all dead!" snapped Jason, more angry at himself than anything.

"Not all of them, Jason." With a little more confidence, Earl continued, "You're still alive."

"What's the use? Nothing I do ever seems to make a difference."

Earl had had enough. "Damn it, Jason! Will you quit feeling sorry for yourself! It wasn't your fault. Now get your sorry ass prepped for Time Warp... That's an order!"

Sometimes it took a slap in the face to wake someone. "I'm on my way." Captain Jason Michaels took a deep breath, stood up, tossed his log recorder on the bed, turned then headed off towards the control room.

* * *

It had been an uneventful day...

The sun flew high overhead while a cool breeze whistled through the trees. Along the path, pigeons ate popcorn fed to them by a portly man on a park bench. Across the way a ball was being shared by a dog and his boy.

...until now...

The sun flickered as if someone quickly turned a light switch off and on. The trees grew quiet. The pigeons scattered in all directions. The man looked at his watch. The dog barked once and was silent.

...now the fun begins.

The portly man stood up, casually threw his popcorn bag over his shoulder into the waiting trash can, and walked towards the trees. His once jovial expression was now replaced by a look of grim determination. For years he'd been fighting a war; a war only a select few knew existed. A war fought through non-physical battles in the political arena. He did the best any one man could do. But things had gotten out of hand. The response from headquarters indicated that reinforcements were being sent. It was about time. Their enemies' plans for mass destruction were going to be fulfilled unless something was done... Now!

When he arrived at the clearing it was only a moment before he heard the low humming which always preceded a Time Warp. As the noise subsided, the light show began. At first, only a spark could be seen floating four feet above the ground. Gradually, the spark grew into a pulsating orb of red light with lightning crackling across the surface. With every beat, the globe increased in size. As its size changed, so did the color. All the hues of the rainbow were represented. Upon reaching violet the pulsing ceased.

Everything was deathly silent as if time stopped... and, for just a moment... it had.

The orb shattered... Time resumed.

Where there once was an optical display, now stood a tall red-haired man.

"Colonel?" queried the disoriented Time Traveler.

With a Pillsbury Dough-Boy smile he answered, "My friends call me Rusty."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir!" the red-haired man said in awe, amazed that the only other remaining member of the Time Patrol was none other than the famous Colonel Rusty Sharp.

"Of course," responded the Colonel matter-of-factly. "And you are...?"

"Oh, sorry." Regaining his composure, " I'm Captain Jason Michaels of Temporal Squad Nine. It's an honor working with you, Colonel."

"I know." After scanning the clearing, he returned his gaze back to Captain Michaels. "Where's the rest of your Squad?"

"I'm it, Sir." Jason's voice held an edge.

In disbelief and anger the Colonel lashed out. "A mission of such importance and they send me one man! You go back right now and tell HQ to send me at least three full squads! Pronto!"

"I can't, Sir."

Unable to comprehend somebody would actually disagree with him, the Colonel forgot to raise his voice. "What do you mean, 'You can't?'"

"Like I said... I'm it." Jason took a deep breath. "I'm the last of the Time Patrol." Another breath. "All other agents have been..." Unable to finish the sentence, Captain Michaels continued, "Well... I'm the last."

"The last?" the Colonel stammered in disbelief.

"Yes, Sir. Except for you," Jason clarified. "Before you contacted HQ, I thought there was nobody else alive."

Accepting the situation, the Colonel regained his confidence. "Well, it looks like we've got our work cut out for us."

"Yes, Sir." Jason's response was not as confident as the other Time Traveler.

"Call me Rusty," the Colonel said with a teddy-bear smile.

"Yes, Sir. I mean, Rusty."

Colonel Sharp looked Captain Michaels over, taking in every detail through the trained eye of a seasoned soldier. "I see you're carrying the standard issue Temporal Distorter and Phase Inducer, but what's that around your neck?"

Jason fingered the oversized necklace. "It's a Graviton Disrupter."

The Colonel nodded in recognition. "That was still being developed in my day. When did they perfect it?"

"Well...," Jason hesitated, "It hasn't really been perfected yet."

Alarmed, the hardened veteran took a step back.

"Don't worry. It's safe," Jason assured him, adding under his breath, "Most of the time."

The Colonel categorized it as a potential advantage. "Safe or not, we may need it where we're going."

"Where's that?" Jason asked.

With a glazed look, he responded as if he were on a quest for the Holy Grail. "The White House."

* * *

It was a shock to everyone when, in the middle of the award presentation, thirty armed men appeared in a rainbow of pulsating lights. The first lady immediately began barking orders to the troops, who quickly sealed off the area. The Michaels family huddled together in the middle of one of the many rooms in the White House, Joshua and Stephanie trying their best to stay between the soldiers and their children.

"You Idiot!" yelled the first lady, as she back-handed her husband. "You gave them the wrong coordinates! They were supposed to arrive in a secured sector!"

"I'm sorry, dear," whimpered the president.

"Now my plans are ruined!" she screamed as she slapped him in the back of the head. "You always do something stupid to mess up everything!"

"Yes, dear," he meekly replied.

"Mr. President! Mr. President! What do you know about this? Is this some kind of terrorist attack?" asked one of the reporters.

With a look of contempt, the first lady calmly grabbed a gun from one of the soldiers, and shot the reporter three times in the chest. "Does anybody have any other questions?" She waved the gun around menacingly.

The room became deathly silent. The only sound made was that of people hitting the floor after fainting.

"Now that that's settled." She handed the weapon back. "Listen up! If you all behave yourselves, you may survive this."

She turned toward the guard who appeared to be in charge of the unit. "Captain, I need to get to the bunker so I can inform the rest of the troops about the change in the situation. Select your ten best men. You will pretend to take me and my husband hostage. This should allow us to get by the secret service agents."

"Permission to speak, General?" asked the Captain.

"Go ahead," she said, her manner impatient.

"It might be more to our advantage if we had additional prisoners." The Captain pointed to the Michaels children.

"Good idea. Gather them up and let's go," she ordered.

Two of the men reached for the children. Joshua Michaels broke one man's jaw with a round-house elbow to the face. He kicked the other one in the chest sending him crashing into two others. The Captain fired a couple of rounds at Joshua. He staggered back a couple of feet, but was not injured at all. Detective Michaels took out another soldier before anyone realized he wasn't wounded.

"Stop! Or your family dies!"

Joshua turned around and saw Stephanie, Jason and Christina with guns to each of their heads. Jeffrey was nowhere to be seen.

"If you don't surrender now, my men will shoot them," the first lady calmly explained.

Detective Michaels, with rage still burning inside, allowed himself to be tied.

The General walked over to Joshua, and began fingering the bullet holes in his shirt. "I've seen your kind before. Once this is all over, I think I'll take you back with me and perform some wonderful experiments on you." She lifted his chin with her finger. "What do you think of that?"

"If you harm my family, I'll...," Joshua began to threaten.

"You'll what?" she interrupted. "If you try anything... they're dead! You got that?"

Joshua remained silent, hatred in his eyes.

"Sir," the Captain said, getting the General's attention, "the men you requested are ready."

"Good." The first lady scanned the room. "Captain, you're in charge while I'm gone. If anyone so much as sneezes... kill them."

"Yes, Sir."

"Let's move out!" barked the General.

"Daddy, Daddy... help me!" Christina cried as she and Jason were taken away.

"I will, honey! Don't be afraid!" Joshua promised his daughter as they were taken from the room. He'd never a broken a promise to her. And he wasn't going to start now.

* * *

"Goooood morning DC!" squelched a voice from the taxi's radio. "It looks like it's going to be a sloooow trip into work today." In an annoying voice, the DJ added, "For you at least... I'm already here."

"I can't believe the talentless garbage they allow on the airwaves these days," the Colonel remarked in a disgusted tone.

"Forget him," Jason said. "Let's talk about the mission."

As if speaking to an audience, the Colonel began the briefing. "I've been tracking these two for years. I would have had them before, if it wasn't for that damn bunker explosion. People thought they'd died, but I knew better. It took me a while before I could trace their Time Warp to this temporal zone."

"By the time I arrived, they had already established themselves politically," said the Colonel. "I couldn't do anything directly, so I started to build my own forces. It took years before I gathered enough influence myself to directly confront them. Now that I have, they're beginning to panic. They don't seem to be as confident as they were in the past."

In a worried voice, he added, "It seems that I may have misjudged the situation this time. I thought that if I could ruin them politically, it would prevent them from causing the Collapse of 1996. It appears that my constant pressure has just accelerated it."

"Either we stop them now, or the world will be doomed to three hundred years of misery," the Colonel stated with an air of finality.

Jason remained silent, remembering the first time it happened. He was one of the few who'd remained to see the aftermath. The "lucky" ones didn't survive. Family... friends... all gone. He couldn't bare to witness it a second time.

"Heeeeyyyy DC!"

The shriek of the DJ jolted Jason back to the present.

"Incredible news! It seems that terrorists have taken over the White House. Among the hostages is a family from Los Angeles, as well as a bunch of reporters... no great loss there. No word on the status of the First Family." The DJ continued, "And nooowwww for our next hit... YMCA, by the Village People!"

The Colonel closed his eyes. "It's begun."

* * *

The small group of soldiers and hostages stopped in one of the hallways of the west wing. Getting by the secret service was easy. Nobody wanted to risk getting a couple of children hurt, let alone the president and first lady. Each end was guarded by two men, while the first lady was searching for something along one of the walls. Jason was trying to comfort Christina, who'd been crying the whole time.

"I found it." The first lady slowly opened the secret door before her.

Without a second thought, the president rushed through it.

"Keep watch while we're gone. And somebody shut that brat up!" the General yelled as the secret door closed behind her.

One of the soldiers grabbed Christina by the arm and began shaking her. "Will you shut up!" This only made her cry all the more. Tired of the constant whining, he pointed his gun towards her and pulled back the hammer. Thinking only of his sister, Jason jumped at her assailant. Years of training caused the mercenary to instinctively react. He whipped around and shot Jason. His lifeless body hit the floor like a discarded doll.

Christina stopped crying. She looked at her brother, a single tear sliding down her cheek. She slowly turned towards his killer. A low growl could be heard coming from the seven year old. Before the man could react, the little girl had transformed into an eight foot grizzly bear. The man's scream was cut short as a giant claw ripped across his face.

The remaining troops gathered their courage to face the frenzied beast. It did them no good.

* * *

When Jason and the Colonel finally arrived at the White House, all they could see was a mass of people. The half of the crowd with camouflage and M-16s were holding back the other half with press badges and video recorders. It was impossible to get close. That is, impossible without the aid of future technology.

The two Time Patrolmen activated their Phase Inducers. They shifted slightly out of phase with the rest of the world. All the surrounding people faded from their perception and, unhindered by the crowd, Jason and the Colonel walked inside the White House.

"I detected a multiple Time Warp in the vicinity of the press room," stated the Colonel.

"Lead the way."

The place was a mess. Chairs were scattered all around, indicating some kind of struggle.

"Prepare yourself," the Colonel advised Jason. "It looks like we're going to be in the thick of it here. At least we have surprise on our side."

Jason pulled out what looked like a tiny gun. "Ready."

As soon as they phased in, Jason and the Colonel started shooting. The tiny weapons were Temporal Distorters. Each target struck was surrounded by a Stasis Field and they simply slowed down so much they couldn't move.

Once the surprise was over, the soldiers began to regroup. It now looked like the typical bar room shoot out where both sides took cover behind overturned tables. In one corner cowered the hostages. Stephanie Michaels was trying frantically to untie her husband.

In shock, Jason noticed who two of the prisoners were, "Mom? Dad?" He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He hadn't seen them for nearly three hundred years. Without thinking he stood up, and was immediately hit in the shoulder with a bullet. As he sunk to the ground, his Temporal Distorter was knocked from his hand.

Across the room, one of the captors noticed Joshua was almost loose. He couldn't allow that one to be set free, so he aimed at the woman untying him.

As the man took aim, Jason screamed, "Noooo!" He grasped the Graviton Disrupter and activated it. Bodies flew in all directions. Some hit the ceiling, some hit the walls. Where the gravity was actually pointing down, the force was increased tenfold, causing some people to crash to the floor. The direction of the force was constantly changing. Only Jason was unaffected. Joshua, free enough to protect his wife, was keeping himself between her and the walls.

Jason deactivated the Disrupter. Everyone fell to the floor unconscious, except the Michaels family. After helping his wife to her feet, Joshua headed towards Jason.

"I want to thank you for saving my wife's life." Joshua extended his hand. "I'm Joshua Michaels and this is my wife, Stephanie."

Shaking hands with his father left Jason speechless.

"And you are...?" queried Joshua.

Stephanie's eyes glazed over for a moment. "Jason?" A look of recognition registered on her face. "Jason, is that really you?"

"Yes, Mom. It's me?" Jason replied.

"'Jason?' 'Mom?' What's this all about?" stammered Joshua, as he glanced between the two.

In that patronizing tone that all women seem to master, "I'll tell you later, dear." In a more urgent voice, "Right now, you two have to go save Jeffrey and Christina and...."

Jason retrieved his Temporal Distorter, and Joshua grabbed a gun from one of the unconscious troopers. They immediately left the room in search of the children.

Stephanie went to assist the Colonel, who was just now regaining consciousness. "Thank you for helping us."

The Colonel nodded, holding his arm in pain.

With a little smile, she said, "I just might let my son watch your show after all."

* * *

The hall ended in a tee. Jason and Joshua headed down the right hallway.

"Dad! Dad! This way!"

They turned around and saw Jeffrey waving them towards the opposite direction.

Joshua ran to his son, grasping him in his arms, "Are you all right, Son?"

"Yeah, Dad. I'm okay." Jeffrey replied. "I followed them down here. I couldn't see what happened, but I think they made Christina mad."

"You did good, Son." Joshua gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Now, go back to the other room and look after your mother... Okay?"

"You got it, Dad." Jeffrey ran back towards the press room.

Jason and Joshua followed Jeffrey's directions. After a few twists and turns, they came across a scene that looked straight out of a horror movie. Dead gunmen were scattered everywhere.

In the middle of the blood bath kneeled Christina, crying over her brother's body. "Wake up, Jason! Wake up!"

Joshua ran to his children. He quickly checked Christina, and with relief, found that the blood she was covered in was not her own. It was not so with little Jason. He grasped his son's body in his arms, trying to squeeze the life back into him. "Oh God, no! Not him! Why did it have to be him!" Joshua wailed.

"Dad. Can you ease up. I can't breathe," young Jason gasped.

Joshua looked at his son in shock.

"Where did the first lady go?" asked the Time Traveler.

Maneuvering his arm free from his father's grasp, the boy pointed towards the wall. "They went through a secret passage."

It took only a second before the older Jason had the door open. "I'll be back," he said in a strangely familiar, monotone voice as he went through the door.

He cautiously ran down the passage way, wary of an ambush. Jason arrived in the secret bunker just in time to see the president and first lady disappear in a kaleidoscope of colors. The room grew quiet

except for a computerized voice, "... Five... Four... Three..." Jason bolted back the way he'd come.

"... Two... One." The explosion propelled him through the secret entrance, slamming him against the opposite wall. With a glazed look on his face, Jason said, "I'm back," then lost consciousness.

* * *

By the time Joshua, Christina and the two Jasons returned to the press room, everyone was secured in a stasis field, even the reporters.

"Did you get them?" asked the Colonel.

"No, Sir. They got away," replied a disappointed Captain Michaels.

"It's okay, kid. You did good," the Colonel said with a smile. "We'll get them next time. We better be going now."

"But, Sir, can't I stay a little bit longer," Captain Michaels pleaded.

"You can come back and visit. But right now we have to take these soldiers back to HQ," the Colonel ordered with authority.

"Mom! It's him!" yelled young Jason, as he pointed to the Colonel.

"Yes, dear. I know." Stephanie gave her son a smile.

"Sorry about the mess." The Colonel waved good-bye as they started to exit.

After a spectacular light show, the room was occupied by fewer people. The two Time Travelers and the couple dozen soldiers were now gone.

"Would somebody mind telling me what happened here?" yelled Joshua.

"I'll tell you later, dear," Stephanie Michaels said as she gathered her family for a group hug, "I'll tell you later."