I am uneasy as I realize i’m the only white man in the room and that they believed we started the war to kill them and that we believed a crazy nigger in the control room fell asleep. And I cannot stop laughing.
Hey Marshall, I say. While you’re at it why not go back and stop Kennedy’s murder?
They would’ve gotten him next stop. Besides, we don’t know who the other shooter was.
Flood the area with agents that look like old women. Vaporize anyone that even looks funny.
That’s the trouble with this, Chones. It would start a cascade that couldn’t be…
Hoisted on your own Picard, Marshall, I say. It wont work, I say quietly. Not with what we have now.
The Marshall stands up and says, If we wait any longer there wont be anything to save. That radiation could be here in as little as a hundred years.
IDC, I say.
Because you don’t have children, you son of a bitch?
Because it’s going to find a way to kill us anyway, I say respectfully.
Marshall Dillon of the Time Police gets on an archaic microphone and calls a mathist named Hoggins into the room. He starts talking fifth order integrals until Dillon shuts him up.
Explain it to me, Hoggins, I say. As he looks at me thru his Roy Orbison Glasses he gives a fair qualitative description that sounds plausible.
Hoggins, do we have any more certainty of success than the Dallas 63 scenario? I ask.
He looks down and says, no, Colonel. In fact there’s less.
Why this, then? Why now?
Because as I have been trying to explain to you Neanderthals that it’s the last decent chance we have. In a hundred years we’ll all be dead. We have to try.
That makes everything else immaterial. Thank you Hoggins, I say.