Time Problems
Candystriper fluttered anxiously about the underground bunker. “Well, I don’t know, do I wear the dress with the poofy sleeves? I don’t like poofy sleeves, but I don’t want to wear the curtain ones, I mean really, curtain dresses are so-“
A dirty grey jacket flopped onto the floor in front of her. “We’re not going to a tea party!” the Malevolent Med-Student bellowed. “We’re going to infiltrate the Army of Northern Virginia! We’re going to be crawling around in the muck and the mire! This isn’t an occasion for white tie and tails! Or poofy sleeves!”
Candystriper sighed. That didn’t sound promising. “Why are we doing this again, sir?” She had an idea of the answer, of course, but she was setting him up for a monologue. He did not disappoint.
“We’re linking up with Confederate Connie to travel back in time and give laser rifles to General Robert E. Lee and his army, as they prepare to launch their second invasion of the North. With the help of the laser rifles, Lee will smash the Union army under Meade, march on Washington, capture President Lincoln, and win the Civil War for the South, thereby changing the very course of time!” The Malevolent Med-Student struck a very dramatic pose as he finished his speech. Unfortunately, Candystriper was so engrossed in the plan that she failed to turn on the background music. A moment of awkward silence ensued.
“Sir?” Candystriper ventured at last. “My great-grandparents got married after the Civil War. This won’t, like, stop them from meeting and keep me from being born?”
“Of course not,” the Malevolent Med-Student said grumpily. “The time machine’s got a causality-paradox inhibitor chip, hasn’t it? You’ll be fine.”
“Yay!” said Candystriper, and tugged on the grey jacket. It smelled badly, and was clearly not intended for someone of her gender. She glanced at her boss; he was in the process of donning an extremely neat grey uniform, complete with epaulets, sword, and a wide-brimmed hat with a jaunty feather in it. “Sir?” she asked. “Aren’t you, um, worried about the muck and mire?”
“I’m an officer,” he said. “I’ve got to look it.”
“Oh.” She said nothing else as they climbed out of the bunker, out into the deserted forest, and to the clump of trees where the Malevolent Med-Student had hidden the time machine. She had seen it once before. It looked like an old-fashioned phone booth, only with no windows. Now, however, as Candystriper approached the trees, she smelled a distinct crispiness to the air. “Sir?” she said again. “I think it’s broke.”
The Malevolent Med-Student rushed forward. Sure enough, all that remained off the time machine was a heap of slagged metal and smouldering circuitry. “It’s her.” he snarled. “Always her! But how could she possibly-“
It was just then that Candystripher’s invisible friend, Marcia the manatee, materialized over her shoulder. In a short burst of song, Marcia suggested that this was the time to make a quick getaway. “Right, Marcia!” Candystriper said, and started running. She stopped when a black Starfleet-style boot hit her face.
“Hi there,” Gaseous Girl said. The minion did not return her greeting, as she was passed out on the ground. The Malevolent Med-Student burst out with a torrent of inappropriate words.
“Confederate Connie says hello, by the way,” Gaseous Girl said, as she knocked the Malevolent Med-Student into the ruins of his own time machine. “Or she would, if she were conscious. That happens a lot to you guys. Go figure.”
